Crossroads (Crossroads Academy #1)

by J. J. Bonds

  I’m not a big fan of the Dewey Decimal System, but I fare alright with the aid of the signs posted on each of the library stacks. I had hoped, naively it turns out, that the books on my list would be confined to one section of the library. Much to my chagrin, they’re scattered all over the place. With the exception of one book which is not on the shelf, I collect everything on my list.

  I pile the books on my table and get to work. The first book is titled ‘The Glorious Transfiguration.” How cliché, I think rolling my eyes. I scan the Table of Contents and decide it’s worth a look. Twenty minutes later it’s clear I’m wasting my time. The book doesn’t get beyond the basics. Get bitten, toxins are excreted from the fangs, blah, blah, infection spreads, body mutates becoming stronger, faster, virtually indestructible, blah, blah, blah, live forever and experience the world to its fullest as a superior being. It’s propaganda. It hits all the highlights but skips the down and dirty details. There’s nothing of the hellish pain of transfiguration or the never-ending thirst that will rule your life. No mention of the agony of watching everyone around you wither and die. I’m half convinced the book was written to sell the idea of vampirism to humans; as if most of them would need convincing. There are scores of humans who would trade anything to be like us.

  Refusing to be discouraged I fan out the remaining books, determined to find one that has the information I need. The relationship between the sire and those they’ve transfigured has to be documented somewhere. I strike out with the next two books as well. I learn some interesting facts that help solidify my understanding of our bloodlines and the factors that contribute to a vampires’ strength such as age and purity of blood. It’s educational, but it’s not what I’m looking for.

  I hit the pay-dirt on the fourth book. I almost pass it over due to the technical content, but I ultimately decide that it’s better to be thorough. There’s a lot of scientific stuff I don’t fully understand, but I get the gist of it all. At least I think I do. As it turns out, Keegan was right. Years of clinical trials have shown evidence that a complex psychic connection does exist between a pureblood sire and the vampires that he or she has turned. Although there is sufficient statistical evidence to prove that the connection is real, explaining how it works is more difficult. The book leaves a lot of room for interpretation of this phenomenon dubbed the Vampiric Nexus.

  I read several theories which I don’t really buy into, despite my own ability to see the life-force of those I taste. It all seems far-fetched, and I want something fact based. Hypothesizing that consanguinity stems from the exchange of blood seems unlikely. Could it really be the result of sharing the same virus? Could the toxins really put each brain they touch on the same wavelength? That would mean the virus is not the same for each vampire. Each strain would be a little different like human DNA. That might also explain some of the differences in how our bodies function. Why isn’t there more conclusive data? It’s so damn frustrating that I want to rip my hair out. I decide to move on. It’s more important to understand how it works and why Aldo’s kept it from me than it is to understand the cause.

  Further reading reveals that the Nexus has been tested in innumerable ways since its discovery. Apparently it’s just another way for the purebloods to hold the transfigured captive. Like Gabriel, many have exploited the Nexus for personal gain. If the data is accurate, the Nexus is strongest at the beginning when a new vampire has just been transfigured. If fostered the bond can grow to be iron tight, with the sire having complete control over the mind of the mixed-blood. The Nexus is a means of reciprocity, allowing the sire to communicate psychically and invade the mind stealing thoughts and feelings. Some have proven capable of overcoming the Nexus with extreme discipline and mind strengthening exercises, but the only way to completely sever the bond is death. It’s not a particularly comforting discovery.

  I lean back in my chair contemplating what I’ve read. The sun is setting, and I’m running out of time. Might as well pack up for the day. I’ve gotten what I came for, and I doubt I’ll find better information in the remaining books. Not wanting to leave any signs of my presence or my research, I gather up the books so that I can return them to their respective homes on the shelf.

  As I slot the books, I find myself wondering about the studies I’ve just read. I wonder how many of the participants were willing subjects. Were they slaves like Keegan, or did they do it for another reason? What would motivate them to go through such rigorous testing? It couldn’t have been pleasant. I ponder these things and more until my thoughts are interrupted by the sound of falling books. I’m positive I was alone in the library when I entered the stacks, but now it sounds like I have company.

  Should I call out and announce my presence or should I try to sneak out unseen? I’ve gotten rid of all of the books so there’s no evidence of my research. It’s probably best to be forthright. If it’s a professor I don’t want to be accused of sneaking around, although that’s exactly what I’m doing. Not wanting to arouse suspicion, I elect to make my presence know.

  “Hello?”

  No reply. I try again.

  “Hello? Who’s there?”

  Still no answer. I emerge from the stacks to discover that I am alone. The pile of books laying on the floor to my right proves that someone else was here just moments ago. I didn’t imagine the crash of books. They were knocked from the overflowing return cart. Something isn’t right. It’s time to go.

  I turn to collect my things and stop dead in my tracks when I realize that my laptop is gone. It’s been stolen. I can hardly believe my eyes. I can’t believe this is happening. How could I be so careless? Blind panic sets in. I don’t know how I get back to my room. I don’t remember the walk. Or dialing Aldo’s number. His cool voice comes on the line, and it takes me a minute to realize it’s a recording. Voice mail. I leave a short message demanding that he call me as soon as possible. I disconnect and throw the phone on the bed. With nowhere else to turn, it’s time to find out if Anya can really be trusted.

  I find her working in her office. No surprise there. I rudely let myself in not bothering to knock or wait for an invitation to enter.

  “We need to talk.”

  “What is it? What’s wrong Katia?” She closes the file she’s working on and gives me her full attention as she stands and comes around the desk.

  “My computer was stolen today. In the library.”

  “Are you sure? You couldn’t have lost it?”

  Is she for real? “No. I didn’t lose it. Someone took it. I was in the stacks and when I came back, it was gone.”

  “Okay. Well, I’ll take it up with Headmaster Pratt tomorrow. Theft will not be tolerated.” She doesn’t get it. It’s painfully obvious that she doesn’t comprehend the seriousness of the situation. She sits down on the edge of her desk looking relieved. “You really scared me, Katia. I thought something terrible happened. It’s just a computer. It can be replaced if we don’t recover it.”

  “You don’t understand. There are things on that computer that can’t be seen. Things I can’t explain. Things that would jeopardize Aldo. And you.” It’s a stretch, but it’s no secret how much time Anya and I spend together. They’d never believe she didn’t know. Or at least suspect. She is a Psychologist after all. She’s trained to observe and analyze.

  “Don’t threaten me, Katia.” Her voice is edgy, her anger thinly veiled. I’ve violated her trust. Funny, I always thought it would be the other way around. Still, I don’t have time for guilt.

  “It’s not a threat. I am just trying to make you understand. It was so stupid. So careless. How could I let this happen?” I drop into one of the visitors’ chairs and bury my face in my hands, my dark hair spilling over my fact like a curtain.

  “Let’s not panic. Who was there with you? Did you see anyone?”

  “No one. The library was deserted.”

  “Okay. What about your computer. You had security on it, right? Encryption? A pass code?”

  �
�Of course. But I’m sure it can be hacked. It happens all the time, doesn’t it?” I’m appalled by the hysteria in my own voice. It’s not me I’m worried about. It’s Aldo and Anya. “What are we going to do?”

  “We aren’t going to do anything. You are going to go back to your room and get some rest. All we can do is wait it out. We cannot panic, and we cannot jump to conclusions.”

  “But—”

  “No.” She cuts me off forcefully. “Do as I say Katia. If anything changes, if I have any reason to believe you’re in danger, I’ll get you out of here. Until then, you act normally. You go to class and follow your routine. Got it?”

  Anya is taking control, and, for once, I’m glad to let someone else take the lead. I’ve already made enough of a mess with my carelessness. For the first time, I truly see Anya as an ally not an adversary. She’s willing to assume even more risk to protect us. Aldo was right to trust her. Too bad I didn’t see it sooner. Things could have been much easier for both of us.

  “Yes.” I agree because I have no other choice. I know she’s right. All we can do it wait and hope for the best. My throat is dry. I’m thirsty. I’ll go back to my room and feed. Then I’ll sleep. I’ll do exactly as Anya tells me. Tomorrow, I’ll get up and go to class. Everything will be normal. Routine is good.

  **********

  I’m running through the woods again. It’s different this time. The sky is an inky black and there is no moon to light my way tonight. These woods are more familiar to me; not full of stark skeletal trees like before. These trees are less foreboding. Pines and firs abound; their branches thick with needle-like leaves and prickly cones. I plunge forward, swatting errant branches from my path. I know he’s behind me and probably gaining ground. The hunter.

  He’s driving me uphill. With every step I take, my escape routes become fewer. I need to turn and head back, even if it means temporarily closing the gap between us. But I have to be smart about it. I have to be controlled. Every noise I make, every snapping branch, is a song calling him to me.

  I catch the scent of smoke before I see the thick plumes reaching for the sky. Could this get any worse? The smoke billows around me spreading at an alarming rate. The heat of the flames is right on my heels, tearing through the forest and scorching everything in its path. This is another of his tricks. Another means of terrorizing me.

  I crest the top of the mountain and make a sharp ninety degree turn marking the start of my descent. It’s risky. This path will take me right along the perimeter of the fire, but I don’t see any other choice. If I continue straight down the other side, he’ll find me for sure. This is my best chance to evade him assuming I can withstand the flames.

  I am able to cover the terrain more quickly moving downhill. I hug the tree line staying as close to the fire as I dare, hoping it will mask my scent and the sounds of my retreat. The thought of his fangs on my neck gives me a burst of energy, and I surge forward. I have to get out of here.

  The smoke is becoming thicker, making it difficult to see more than a few feet ahead. I am forced to slow my pace to a steady jog. It’s impossible to tell which direction I’m going now. I’ve completely lost my bearings, not that it matters much since I don’t really know where I am. I drop to a fast walk and rub my eyes with the backs of my hands. They come away black. I’m covered in ash that has rained down from the dark sky.

  As I stand there trying to wipe the soot from my face, he speaks. “I knew I’d find you eventually.” His voice is disturbing to say the least. It has the lilt of someone who’s about to come completely unhinged, of someone who has only the slightest grasp on reality. I still don’t know what he wants, but I’m not about to ask. Instead I crouch into a fighting stance and prepare myself for the inevitable.

  Like before, his hand emerges first. It’s just as chalky and white as I remember. Oddly, the dream smoke does not soil his skin as it has mine. I try not to let my fear show when he steps forth, his beady red eyes fixed on me. He still wears the hood so I can’t see much of his face, a small thing for which I am grateful. I know with certainty that I am in the presence of a monster. Sickness radiates from him enveloping both of us. I find myself backing away from him in an attempt to put more distance between us. It feeds his excitement. Those deranged eyes are dancing with thirst.

  Before I know what’s happening, several pairs of hands descend upon me. They catch me by surprise, tearing at my clothes, my hair, my face. Scratching, clawing, biting. Blood pours down my shoulder. I break free and whip around to face my attackers. Their arms protrude from the oily black smoke; it doesn’t faze them in the least. They emerge from the smoldering flames and recognition hits me.

  I know each and every last one of them. Not their names, but their faces. I remember every sad story, every damaged spirit, every broken body. I can hardly bear it. I’d rather die than face them. I crash to the ground screaming with delirium. They descend on me like vultures. Their hollow eyes say what their lips cannot. They want what I took from them. They want revenge.

  Chapter Eighteen

  I oversleep in the morning, courtesy of the snooze button. When I finally wake up, it’s all I can do to get myself out of bed I’m so tired. Last night’s dream was especially draining. The dreams are getting worse. I have to figure out how to control them, but I’ll have to worry about that later. Right now I need to get to class. Anya’s right. Maintaining normalcy is important. Besides, she won’t be happy if she thinks I intentionally disobeyed her instructions.

  I dress quickly in jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt and throw my hair up in a knot. There isn’t time for much else. I’m dying of thirst and feel the beginnings of hunger pains. I hurriedly pour two pouches of blood into a thermos and head for class. Feeding in the hallways is discouraged, but I haven’t got a lot of options since I’m already late. Breaking such an insignificant rule is the least of my worries right now.

  It looks like I might actually be on time when Anya grabs my arm roughly and leads me into an empty classroom. My first thought is that I’ve been exposed. But if that were the case, she would have come to my dorm, wouldn’t she? I go with my second best guess.

  “I’m sorry,” I begin defensively. “I know I’m not supposed to be feeding in the hall, but I overslept.”

  She waves me off. She’s smiling. Now I’m really confused. If I’m not in trouble, then what is so urgent?

  “It’s your lucky day!” She pulls my laptop from her shoulder bag and hands it to me. “The librarian found it.”

  That can’t be right. It doesn’t even make sense. “What do you mean the librarian found it? I told you, someone took it.”

  “Then they must’ve brought it back.” She shrugs as if this is a perfectly reasonable explanation. “I went to the library to see Professor Toddy thinking I would warn her about the theft and notify her of your missing laptop. The next thing I know, she tells me that she found it on her desk this morning. It was just lying there when she showed up. She had no idea where it came from or who it belonged to.”

  “Why would someone steal it and then bring it back the very next day?” I’m not convinced this is as straight forward as it seems.

  “I don’t know, Katia. Guilt? Fear? Inability to actually break the pass code and use it? Who cares why they returned it? I thought you’d just be thrilled to have it back.”

  I turn the case over in my hands inspecting it for signs of damage. It looks perfectly sound, just as I left it, but I still don’t have a good feeling about this. It will be impossible to tell if the security codes have been broken. All I can do is assume that they haven’t been compromised until I have evidence to suggest otherwise.

  **********

  I’m nervous as I enter the training center. I’m glad to see Nik, and I won’t be sparring alone today. There are several other students working out. It’s our first session of the new semester. I haven’t seen Nik since New Year’s Eve when he kissed me. I haven’t really thought about it much since then either. I haven
’t had the time, and, in the grand scheme of things, a kiss is pretty insignificant. It was, after all, just one little kiss.

  Mostly, I’m annoyed that Nik seems hell-bent on screwing things up between us. I just want to train and become the best fighter that he can make me. Why can’t he accept that? We were just starting to find our rhythm, and I’m hoping that nothing has changed. I’m anxious to continue with the aggressive training schedule. I won’t let my nightmares or anything else get in the way.

  “Hey, Katia.” His greeting is friendly. His attitude relaxed. Maybe I don’t have anything to worry about. Maybe New Year’s was a fluke. Perhaps he just got caught up in the moment.

  Yeah, right. Who am I kidding? I don’t believe that for a second. I’ve seen the intensity with which he approaches his training, his studies, everything in his life. He’s not one to get swept up in the moment. I’ll just have to ignore it. I won’t give him any encouragement. It’ll be fine. Probably.

  “Hi.” It’s as much of a greeting as I can muster with my mind in turmoil.

  “Good news,” he tells me as he stands. “I spoke to Garcia about getting you moved up to a more advanced class. He’s agreed.”

  “Really?” It’s difficult to hide my excitement. This is something I really wanted, and I was starting to get anxious about Garcia’s decision. I figured if I didn’t hear anything before classes started up again then it was a no-go.

  “He’s working it out with Pratt. It will mean some minor changes to your schedule, but you’ll be far more challenged.” He pauses, smiling playfully. “Of course, Garcia’s other assistants aren’t nearly as skilled, but you’ll have to make do. Just don’t let them screw up all of my hard work.”