Red Dawn

by Bonds, J. J.

  Red Dawn

  A Crossroads Academy Novel

  J.J. Bonds

  Table of Contents

  Table of Contents

  Red Dawn

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Epilogue

  Glossary

  About the Author

  Also by J.J. Bonds

  Credits

  Red Dawn

  A Crossroads Academy Novel

  J.J. Bonds

  First edition published as an eBook August 2012.

  Copyright © 2012 by J.J. Bonds

  All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Dedication

  For my husband, whose unwavering support and endless patience has allowed me to make my dreams a reality.

  Prologue

  Hell’s bells! There have to be fifty rooms in the manor and I’m about to be caught snooping in the one place that’s off limits: Aldo’s office. So much for having the place to myself. The Elder’s Council must have decided to call it an early night. Why else would Aldo be home so soon? I quickly scan the office for a hiding place and lunge for the closet. I yank the heavy oak door open and survey the room for any sign of my intrusion. Aldo’s office looks just as one might expect. It’s dark, masculine, and intimidating. Not the kind of place you want to be if you’re in trouble or a nosy teenage vamp.

  Satisfied everything is in its proper place, I hastily pull the door shut sealing myself inside. It clicks softly into place as the main door to the office slides open. I stand silently in the dark, my heart racing. I don’t dare breathe; not even to curse my stupid curiosity. The last thing I want to do is give Aldo a reason not to trust me. Sneaking a peek at Aldo’s copy of the Vampire Chronicles, the Elder’s complete history of vampirism, is so not worth it. What was I thinking?

  “I take it the council meeting didn’t go well?” Viktor. Aldo’s most trusted Linkuri guard and my martial arts instructor. I’d recognize his voice anywhere.

  “That, my friend, would be a gross understatement,” returns Aldo. He sounds tired. And… bitter? Not a good sign. “Rumors of unrest persist among the covens and I grow weary of their incessant squabbling.”

  Rumors of unrest persist? How long has this been going on? And what does it mean? I can’t believe what I’m hearing. I have a million questions, but apparently Viktor’s a better listener than I am because he remains silent, waiting for Aldo to continue. Unlike me, he’s got that whole ‘patience is a virtue’ thing figured out. I’m still working on it. Sort of.

  “I fear we have greater challenges on the horizon than internal power struggles. Dark days are upon us. Of this I am certain.”

  “You’re worried about Katia?” Viktor asks gently, expressing Aldo’s unspoken thought. At least that’s how it seems to my prying ears.

  “Always,” Aldo sighs. “Her proximity to me will make her a target. That’s why I’ve asked Anya to continue working with Katia when she returns to Crossroads. Now more than ever it is imperative that Katia learn to harness all of her abilities for her own safety.”

  “Be that as it may, she isn’t going to like it.” Viktor laughs heartily. I make a mental note of his amusement and tuck it away as motivation for our next sparring session.

  “Agreed. And that is why I’m not going to tell her.”

  Chapter One

  I slide into one of the smooth leather chairs in the middle of the plane and fasten my seatbelt as the captain prepares for takeoff. The seatbelt seems pointless given my sturdy vampire form, but it’s a force of habit that lingers from my human upbringing. The engines roar to life and it’s only a matter of minutes until we’re cleared for takeoff. As the plane taxis down the runway, I stare absently out the window and let my thoughts drift to Crossroads. I’ve spent the summer dodging my personal demons and anything else that might resemble introspective thought. It’s not exactly my strong suit, but with summer drawing to a close, I can’t hide any longer. By this time tomorrow I’ll be at Crossroads. It’s a bittersweet realization.

  I’m excited to see Shaye and Anya. I’ve missed them more than I want to admit, but there are other things- other people- to think about as well. Like Blaine. I promise myself that I’m going to stay out of his way and avoid trouble. The last thing I need to do is start the year off with more verbal sparring. I know Aldo had words with him, and that those words were little more than a thinly veiled threat, but as a result Blaine’s agreed to keep the secret of my mixed-blood heritage. Still, that doesn’t exactly make us friends and I don’t want to press my luck where’s he’s concerned.

  Who am I kidding? Fear of Blaine, of exposure, isn’t the reason I’ve tried to keep my thoughts preoccupied all summer. No, the real reason I’ve avoided thinking about Crossroads is Nik. “Nikolai Petrov.” His name rolls off my tongue effortlessly and I feel a warm blush flood my cheeks as I think about the last time I saw him. “Stop acting like a lovesick fool,” I mutter. As if self-reproach is going to change anything. Things between Nik and I are complicated at best. And so are my feelings for him.

  We haven’t really spoken all summer and I wonder what that means. The mere thought of him has my stomach twisting in anxious knots. Nik knows that Aldo isn’t really my Great Uncle and that I’m not a pureblood vampire. He knows I’m de sange amestecat. I trust him to keep that secret, but I wonder how it affects his view of me. He says it doesn’t change anything, but how can it not? There aren’t a whole lot of pureblood vamps who want to hook up with a mixed-blood. We’re pretty much second class citizens. Is that why I haven’t heard from him all summer? Maybe he’s had a change of heart? I mean, I know the phone works both ways, but how hard is it to send a freaking text message? Not very, judging by the number I got from Shaye.

  Hell’s bells! The more I allow myself to think about Nik, the more I fear I’ll be overwhelmed by my own emotions and by questions for which I have no answers. Will Nikolai still feel the same? Will things be normal when I see him or will it be totally awkward? I really don’t want to do awkward. We did that dance last year and I’d rather not go back.

  I fidget nervously in my seat as my brain shifts into overdrive. Can we really just pick up where we left off? Maybe he’s dating someone else now? A summer fling? Is that why he hasn’t called? It’s not that unlikely. Nik, with all his charm and smoldering intensity, is my polar opposite. One flash of his gorgeous smile is all it would take. He can have any girl he wants. And he knows it. No wonder he’s always brimming with confidence.

  He’s the one who pursued me, I remind myself. But even as I clutch at self-reassurance, a nasty little voice in the back of my head counters that Nik’s pursuit began long before he knew the truth. And that I haven’t heard from him all summer. Determined to beat that little voice of self-doubt into submission, I square my shoulders and promise myself tha
t I will not be one of those pathetic girls who needs a guy to define her. I am stronger than that. And definitely more independent. I don’t need anyone, especially Nik. Even so, I can’t deny that it would be nice to feel the warmth of his arms wrapped around me again. Too bad wanting Nik might be just as dangerous as needing him.

  **********

  “What did I get myself into?” I ask, dropping my bags on the floor unceremoniously. I briefly contemplate making a run for it, but I doubt it would do any good. I have to remind myself that I agreed to this as I take in the scene before me. That I chose it.

  “Hi roomie!” Shaye coos in an unnaturally sweet voice. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she were up to something. But that’s just my suspicious nature. Shaye’s not like me. She’s always upbeat. In fact, she’s kind of like the postal service that way. Rain or shine, Shaye will always be smiling. I’d bet there aren’t many people who’d take us for being friends, but she kind of worked her way into my good graces, and my heart, last year. And that’s what got me into my current predicament, I think, as Shaye rushes over to hug me.

  “Looks like you’ve had plenty of time to unpack,” I greet her. I can’t help but cringe as I peer over Shaye’s shoulder and note an ungodly number of stuffed animals. It’s going to be a long year.

  “Yeah. Almost done!” she giggles. Shaye releases her grip on me and returns to the bed where a mountain of clothes is obscuring my view of one fugly floral bedspread. Ugh! I’d forgotten how girly Shaye’s dorm was last year. Even if I had remembered, I’m not sure I’d have had the strength to withstand her continual pleading to room together this year. I’m not ashamed to admit that she more or less wore me down. Something about how it would be good for me to spend more time with other people and how much fun we’d have together, like an ongoing slumber party. Shaye can be quite persistent when she wants to be. And while I’m not crazy about giving up my privacy or the prospect of a never ending sleepover, I figured that sharing a room would make it easier to keep an eye on Shaye’s health. If she has a relapse of otrava de sange, I’ll be here for her.

  I know that I can’t really protect Shaye from the blood disease that courses through her body, but it’s hard not to try. Despite her larger than life personality, she still seems small and fragile to me. I glance at her as she wades through the grungy thrift store clothes strewn around her side of the room. She looks good. Her hair has grown out and now falls past her shoulders. It creates a dark curtain which partially obscures her face, but I can see that she’s smiling behind it and that her gray eyes are bright. Even so, I can’t forget that she’s sick, maybe dying. The blood disease can be deceptive. One day she’s fine and the next, not so much.

  “What’s up?” Shaye asks, shoving the heap of clothes off of the bed and flopping down on top of the unsightly comforter.

  “Huh?” I respond turning my gaze from Shaye to my side of the room. By comparison it’s far less… vomit inducing. Okay. Maybe that’s harsh. We just have different tastes and mine tends to be less Martha Stewart.

  “You were staring.”

  “Oh. Just wondering how I let you talk me into this,” I tease, grabbing one of her stuffed animals and throwing it across the room. Shaye ducks and the stuffed bunny bounces off of her headboard and onto the floor with the pile of discarded clothes.

  “My powers of persuasion are unmatched, obviously!” She lets out a huff of indignity that blows her bangs up in the air.

  “Yeah, well, let’s hope the same is true of your cleaning skills because I do not want to have to wade through dirty laundry to get to class. I have enough trouble being on time as it is.”

  “Babe, you have way bigger problems than my dirty laundry,” she snickers.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “See for yourself. Page eleven.” Shaye tosses me a handbook bearing the Crossroads Academy insignia. It looks disturbingly new.

  “What’s this?” I quickly skim page eleven of the new Crossroads Academy handbook. “Bloody hell! Is this a test?” I ask, eyeing her doubtfully.

  “Check your closet. This is not a drill.” Shaye’s stopped laughing and the grim look on her face tells me I’m not going to like what I find. I stomp over to my closet and throw the door open. No sense prolonging the inevitable.

  “Uniforms? I can’t believe it,” I say, shaking my head in dismay. “Headmaster Prick strikes again.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “Red? Really?” I grumble, holding up the watch plaid skirt to emphasize my point. It looks like something that belongs in a Catholic school… on a twelve year old.

  “I know, right? Could it be more cliché? Every vamp school with a uniform probably wears red. Besides, when am I going to wear all of these awesome clothes?” she asks gesturing broadly.

  “On second thought, maybe Pratt is on to something!” I tease her.

  “Very funny!”

  I almost feel bad as I watch Shaye cross her arms over her chest and pout, but I know she’s faking. After all, you can’t dress like she does and actually care what people think.

  “I guess we should try these things on,” I say, wriggling into the hideous plaid skirt. Shaye follows my lead and pulls a uniform from her own closet. It appears she’s been taking out her hostility on the vile thing. Her skirt is wadded up in a ball and full of wrinkles. It needs an iron stat.

  Dressed, Shaye and I stand side by side in front of the mirror to examine our new uniforms. We’re as different as night and day. Shaye is petite and edgy with ink black hair and faded gray eyes that are set off by her fair skin. I’m tall and lithe with an olive complexion, wavy chestnut hair and emerald green eyes. As I study our reflections, I decide that even a well wrinkled uniform can’t scrub away Shaye’s over-the-top sense of fashion. She’s rolled up the sleeves of her black blouse to reveal an unseemly number of jelly bracelets, added funky knee-high argyle socks, and a headband that smacks of Cyndi Lauper circa the 80’s. I look downright boring by comparison with my messy ponytail and understated jewelry. I’m not big on accessories, but I have to wear gold cuff bracelets to hide my human scars and I’m never without the bloodstone amulet Aldo gave me.

  “Disturbing,” Shaye says, wrinkling her nose and making a face in the mirror.

  “Might as well get used to it. They’re kind of a done deal now. Hungry?” I ask, changing the subject.

  “Starving!” she replies.

  “Let’s hit the dining hall. I can unpack after. It won’t take long anyway.” Like last year, Aldo shipped most of my things ahead so I have the good fortune of travelling light. Of course, in retrospect, it might have been so he didn’t have to tell me about the uniforms. He probably didn’t want to hear a whole bunch of complaining. I can’t say I blame him. Pleats? Yep. There would have been a lot of bitching.

  Chapter Two

  Shaye and I take an empty table at the back of the dining hall. No great surprise, the place is packed as everyone tries to catch up on the latest gossip before classes start tomorrow. I swirl the blood in my glass and try to look casual as I scan the hall for familiar faces. Well, for one familiar face.

  “Looking for Nikolai?” Shaye asks. Before I can deny it, she continues. “Don’t lie. You suck at subtlety. Besides, we both know you can’t lie to me anyway.” She’s got a point. Shaye can see through even the best lie.

  “Remind me again why I’m friends with you?” I ask, tearing my attention from the crowd and focusing on the coppery warm goodness in front of me. The blood is thick, smooth and deeply satisfying.

  “Because no one else will claim you,” she responds before sticking her tongue out at me.

  “Oh, I don’t know about that.” Nikolai. Hell’s bells! How long has he been standing there? He’s right behind me and even though I can’t see or touch him, my body is humming with energy at the sound of his voice. “Mind if I join?”

  “Not at all! We could use the company,” Shaye tells him a bit too eagerly. I try to stomp on her fo
ot under the table, but she’s too fast so I settle for shooting her a dirty look instead. Like any good friend, she pretends not to notice.

  “You’re looking well Katia.” Nik slides into the empty chair next to me and his scent teases my senses. Lavender and spice. I have no idea if it’s soap or cologne, but to me it’s heavenly. Given the choice between small talk and snuggling up in his arms, I’d choose the latter. But since we have an audience and I don’t really know where we stand, small talk it is.

  “Thanks. You don’t look too bad yourself,” I return after eyeing his uniform. Big surprise; he wears it well. On Nik it looks more like a fashion statement than an attempt to repress self-expression and personal style. He should be on the cover of GQ. Open blazer, untucked shirt, loose tie. I’m pretty sure that’s not how Pratt meant it to be worn, but he’ll have a hard time enforcing it judging by the look of the student body.

  “So how was your break?” Nik asks. The question is harmless enough, but his stare is intense. Everything else fades away and for a moment it feels as if we’re the only two vamps in the room. Nik’s crystalline blue eyes are focused intently on mine, but I refuse to wilt under the gaze of any guy, no matter how hot he might be. And Nik is hot. I’ve memorized all the lines of his face, his killer smile, the dimple on his left cheek and the way his dark curls spill over his forehead when he’s gone too long without a haircut.

  “Mine was pretty boring,” Shaye cuts in, filling the awkward silence as I shamelessly undress Nik with my eyes. “What about yours Katia?”

  “Uneventful,” I say, trying to beat down my deviant thoughts. “But I did get to spend a lot of time training with Viktor.”

  “Which means you’ve undoubtedly learned some new and inventive ways to kick my ass,” Nik says playfully, a mischievous sparkle lighting his eyes. I catch a flash of his sexy dimple and my palms begin to itch with the desire to reach out and touch him.