by J. J. Bonds
“I’m a terrible friend,” I blurt out. “I’ve been so focused on my own problems that I haven’t been there for you.” I know I’ve been selfish. Sure, I didn’t want to burden her with my troubles, but I also didn’t want to share them. “How are you doing Shaye?”
“I’m fine. Really. What about you?” She resumes sucking on her straw. I watch as the red fluid climbs to the top and disappears beyond her lips.
“I don’t know. I feel like I’m losing my mind. This thing in Rutland has me worried.” I toy with my own straw, swirling the blood in my glass.
“Tell me about it. They’d better get it figured out quickly. It’s bad for us, but it’s also going to be bad for summer tourism if it gets much worse.”
“Do you think it could really be someone here?”
“Why not? It probably wouldn’t be the first time someone at Crossroads has killed, and there are a lot of students with off-campus privileges. Plus, there’s always the faculty and staff to consider,” she whispers leaning closer. “Keegan’s worried the staff is going to bear the blame if this is traced back to the school.”
“You mean as scapegoats?” I ask cautiously.
“Think about it.” She shrugs and pushes her glass aside. “If a student did this, someone from money, you don’t think innocence could be bought? No disrespect to your Uncle, but I have no doubt the New York coven would much rather place blame on a mixed-blood than one of their own golden children given the opportunity. Any of the covens would.”
She’s not wrong there.
“What do you think happened to the boy? To Damian?”
“Isn’t it obvious? Damian is dead.” Even as I say the words, I know they’re true. There will be two more grieving parents gathering at the Angel of Hope for the candle lighting ceremony next December. This realization weighs heavily on me as I mourn silently for a young life snuffed out too soon. “I saved his life once,” I continue, wanting to get this burden off my chest.
“What? When?” She’s confused. Of course she is. This is no small thing, and she can’t believe I haven’t mentioned it sooner.
“Remember when we went Christmas shopping?” She nods but doesn’t say a word. She’s probably afraid I’ll change my mind and won’t finish the story. “You were in the book store, Amy’s, when it happened. I was sitting on the bench, and he came running by. He was so full of life, laughing and carrying on. Anyway, he slipped on the ice and fell in front of oncoming traffic. I pulled him out of the street. It was no big deal, so I didn’t mention it before.” I know I’m downplaying the intensity of the whole thing, but I don’t want her to get weirded out.
“Oh, wow. I’m so sorry. That must make this whole thing even more difficult for you.” She chews on her bottom lip, unsure of what to say next.
“It’s upsetting either way,” I tell her. “I don’t know. Maybe we’re rushing to judgment. Maybe the body in the woods was attacked by a bear, and who knows where Damian is? It’s terrible to say, but bad things happen all the time. Not all of them at the hands of vampires.”
“There’s only one way we’re going to know for sure,” she agrees quietly.
We both know the only way to get conclusive evidence, and it’s something neither of us wants to voice: more bodies.
Chapter Twenty-One
The following week brings further bad news. Two more mangled bodies have been found in Rutland, this time closer to town. It’s getting increasingly difficult for the faculty to maintain order. Rumors fly that the Linkuri will be coming from the New York coven, as they’re closest and will have jurisdiction here. Others still say the school will be closed early for the summer and that we’ll all be sent home.
According to the newspaper, the Rutland P.D. is treating Damian’s disappearance as a separate case from the others, since they still have no body and no leads. The optimism surrounding his safe return diminishes every day. The task force assigned to the known deaths still isn’t sure if they’re dealing with a serial killer or bear attacks, but they’re calling for reinforcements. They need more experienced investigators and a real forensics team to wade through the evidence. Pratt assures the student body that there’s still no convincing evidence that the deaths are in any way related to Crossroads.
I’m sitting in Lynch’s class mulling all of this over and listening to my classmates debating the social norms of vampires when there’s a knock on the door. Pratt’s secretary lets herself in without waiting for an invitation. From where I sit in the front row, I can see that she’s not alone. There’s a guardian waiting in the hall. Why would she be accompanied by one of the Pazitor?
“Headmaster Pratt would like to speak with one of your students,” she announces. I’m really starting to hate this class. I brace myself, waiting for her to call my name, as she scans the list on her notepad.
“Blaine Westbrook.”
I’m awash in relief. I was so sure it was going to be me, not that I have any interest in another one-on-one meeting with Pratt.
“What’s this about?” Blaine asks unmoving. As usual, his respect for authority is less than impressive. He wants her to know he’s not budging unless it’s on his own terms.
“Headmaster Pratt will explain it to you when we get to his office. Please get your things and follow me.”
Blaine still doesn’t move.
The guardian enters the room and barks a single word at Blaine: “Now.” He’s not screwing around. His tone is enough to stir Blaine to action.
“Move along then, Blaine,” chimes in Lynch. He probably wants to get this scene over with quickly. Whatever Blaine’s being called away for, it looks bad. Lynch knows the class is going to be distracted and the debate on social norms has come to an end.
I catch Nik’s eye. He looks worried. So does Blaine. I wonder what he’s done to warrant the trip to Pratt’s office and the presence of the Pazitor. I don’t know what to make of it all, so I go see Anya as soon as we’re dismissed. I know she won’t be happy that I’m ditching class, but I don’t think I can wait until the end of the day to talk to her.
**********
Anya’s on the phone again. She has her back to the door and doesn’t see me peek in through the opening. I decide to wait in the hall to give her some privacy, but it doesn’t prevent me from overhearing her call. Truth be told, I’m listening hard this time trying to make out as much of the conversation as possible.
“Yes. The students are being questioned now. Faculty and staff as well.” She pauses, listening. “I told you. Anyone who went off campus that day is going to be questioned. No exceptions.” Another short pause. “No, she’s safe. Pratt is putting the school on lockdown today. It will be announced at dinner. No one gets in or out.”
There’s a long break in the conversation before Anya speaks again.
“My contact is sure. The only good news is that none of them will be waking up. It hasn’t been in the news, but all of the heads were removed. He’s cleaning up after. I haven’t told Pratt anything, but if this goes on much longer he will call the Linkuri, and no amount of reasoning from me will be able to stop him. You know how he is about this school. Hell, it’s a wonder New York hasn’t sent anyone yet, with all the press this is getting. Keep stalling them. I need more time.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Is Anya complicit in all of this? And why is she keeping information from Pratt? If these really are vampire attacks, why wouldn’t she want the Linkuri here? This is what they do. They hunt and they kill. They’re professionals.
“I don’t think this is a secret that should be kept,” she says vehemently to the mysterious party on the other end of the line. I wish I knew whom she was talking to. “It’s going to come out eventually and then what? How are you going to explain it away?” Anya pounds her fist on the desk. I jump in the hall, startled by the sound. It’s so rare for her to display overt anger. “She has a right to know.”
She lowers her voice so that I can barely make out her next words. “I
am trying to do the right thing. People are dying every day. This is an unnecessary risk. You’re too involved. You don’t see things clearly when it comes to her.”
I turn and run. I don’t need to hear any more. I don’t stop until I’m locked safely in my room. It had to be Aldo on the phone. What is going on? What doesn’t he want me to know? I think back to my last real conversation with Anya. She was trying to tell me something, but I wouldn’t listen. The dreams stopped, and I didn’t think about it anymore. That was right before Damian disappeared. Right before the killing started.
It can’t be a coincidence. I refuse to believe it. I pace the room trying to put the pieces together in my mind. Both Anya and Aldo are always interested in my dreams. Wanting details, wanting to know how I interpret them. Why? Because, I reason, the dreams have significance to them, even if the meaning is unclear to me. What do they know that I don’t? If what Anya insinuates is true, then my dreams must be connected to the deaths in Rutland. Could I have stopped this, I wonder?
“Focus!” I order myself. “Think it through. What do they know that I don’t?” I stop and lean on the desk, placing my hands on it palms down. “What do they know that I don’t?” I repeat it like a mantra as I try to work through all of the ill-fitting pieces of this puzzle.
My desk is a mess. There’s a dirty mug which is actually pretty gross, some laundry that hasn’t been put away and a pile of homework assignments. On top of the stack of papers is a steno notebook. I haven’t opened it in weeks. It’s the one I took to the library when my computer was stolen. I reach for it slowly, my hand shaking.
“What do they know that I don’t?” I flip the cover back warily. I make myself read over the notes I took that day. The truth hits me hard. Its crushing weight drives me to the floor. I sit there numbly for a while, allowing it to suck the remaining life out of me. It takes some time for me to accept the truth. Eventually I reach for the phone. Aldo answers on the first ring. Maybe he’s been expecting my call.
“You knew, didn’t you?” My tone is bitter, accusing. I refuse to feel guilty about it though. There are many things on my conscience, but my anger won’t be one of them.
“Katia. It’s not what you think. Please calm down, child.”
“Child? You want to talk about children? Let’s talk about Damian Thomas!” I scream. “What about him?” I wonder if Aldo even knows his name. If he even cares.
“This is just like before! That boy is feasting his way through the local population. It’s not a coincidence, and we both know it.”
“I didn’t know until today,” he tells me. “I suspected, but I couldn’t be sure. I was trying to protect you. I didn’t want you living in fear, always looking over your shoulder. I will not apologize for that.”
“I can’t stay here! These people are in danger as long as I’m here. I have to go.”
“NO!” Aldo is upset. I imagine him sitting in his study at home frustrated at his inability to control this situation as it unravels thousands of miles away. “Katia, you must stay at Crossroads. You are secure there. The Pazitor will keep you safe.”
“I can’t in good conscience sit here and do nothing!” My protests fall on deaf ears. “Innocent people are dying. More will die if I stay.”
“You will stay put. That is an order!” he barks, letting his emotion get the best of him.
“I appreciate your concern, but I have to be able to look myself in the mirror.”
I end the call and take a deep breath. I’m done taking orders, and I’m scared to death. But I know I have to get out of here. I go to the closet and grab a duffle bag. I quickly stuff it with the essentials: my computer, some clothing, toiletries, and my wallet. I don’t know where I’ll go, but anywhere is better than here. I have to get away.
I check the hall and see that it’s empty. Classes have let out for the day, and everyone is probably in the dining hall for dinner. I must’ve sat on that floor much longer than I realized collecting my courage. I head straight for the garage.
**********
I skip the lights as I let myself into the garage. I don’t plan to be here long, and I don’t need them anyway. I can see well enough. I turn into the row where the Audi is parked and stop short. Blaine is sitting on the hood of my car.
“I knew you’d run,” he says simply, crossing his arms.
“Get the hell off my car,” I demand, refusing to let him impede my escape. I approach slowly and unlock the doors. I open the drivers’ side and throw my bag on the passenger seat.
“Where are you going to go, Kate? He’ll never stop searching for you.”
My blood runs cold. It was Blaine. He’s the one who stole my computer. I’ve heard he’s a computer whiz. He could’ve easily hacked my security. It wouldn’t have taken him long. He probably only returned it to avoid being caught with the evidence. It’s a sickening feeling, but I can’t deny that my situation has just gone from bad to worse.
“What’s wrong, Kate?” He spits my name with contempt. Just hearing it roll off his lips pisses me off. “Cat got your tongue? Did you really think you could fool everyone? Did you really think you could fool him?”
“Is that what this is really about?” I ask icily. “Your stupid little crush on Nikolai? This is so much bigger than you or me or Nik. People are dying!”
“Don’t you dare try to put this on me!” he shouts jumping to his feet. We stand toe to toe. I will not back down. Not to him. “This is your fault! You’re the liar! You brought this mess down on all of us.”
“No, Blaine. It was you. You led him here, didn’t you?” Rage boils up within me. I can’t believe this is happening.
“That was never my intent. I just wanted to get the truth. To expose you for what you really are: a half-breed.”
The lights burst on and we both freeze. Nik and Anya have come to join the party. Great, just what I need.
“What the hell is going on?” Nik demands as he storms toward us. He’s got confusion written all over his face. Anya, on the other hand, looks relieved. She’s probably gotten orders from Aldo to keep me at the school.
“Why don’t you ask your half-breed girlfriend?” Blaine snickers. “I’m sure she’d love to tell you all about it.”
“What is he talking about?” Nik asks, turning to me. Anya puts her hand on his arm. I shake my head in disbelief. She can try all she wants, but there’s no amount of comfort in the world that’s going to soften this blow.
“It’s true,” I tell him. There’s no point in denying it anymore. Blaine has the evidence.
“What’s true?” He looks at Blaine and then back at me. He’s not following. It sucks being the last one to know.
“I’m de sange amestecat,” I tell him simply. “I’m of mixed-blood.”
“I don’t believe you,” he argues shaking off Anya’s touch. God, he’s stubborn. I’m pretty sure there’s not a vampire on the planet that would lie about being of impure blood. It’s not exactly a desirable status.
“Believe it or don’t. It doesn’t matter to me, but I have no reason to lie.” I might as well show him the proof. I have nothing left to lose. I push up my sleeves and remove the cuff bracelets on my wrists, revealing my scars. They’re faint, but I know he’ll see them. No pureblood would have such marks. “I was born a human.”
“I don’t understand. None of this is making sense.” Anya touches his arm again, trying to console the brother she loves so much. It backfires though and Nik turns on her. “You knew? You knew, and you didn’t tell me?”
I empathize with him. I know what it’s like to have your whole world wrenched out from under you and turned upside down.
“Don’t be angry with Anya,” I tell him quietly. “It wasn’t her secret to tell.”
“But Aldo vouched for you. You’re his niece.”
“No,” I say shaking my head sadly. “My name was Kate Osborne. I grew up in White Plains, New York. I had two wonderful parents and played forward on my high school soccer team. I w
as on the Homecoming court. I was the girl next door. Then my parents died, and I threw it all away.” I hold up my wrists again to make my point. I can’t say the words. They’re too painful.
“I didn’t ask for this, to be a vampire, to be part of this world,” I tell him honestly. “It was forced upon me. I’ve never even seen my sire’s face. But he’s here now looking for me. Thanks to Blaine.”
Blaine snarls at the mention of his name.
Anya steps forward. “You can’t leave, Katia.” Does she really think she’ll be able to keep me here against my will? I won’t let that happen.
“I have to go,” I tell her heatedly. “More people will die if I stay.”
“You don’t know that,” she argues. “Stay. We can help.”
“No, Anya, you can’t. No one was there to help when he did this to me. No one was there to help when he haunted my dreams using the Vampiric Nexus. He was stalking me, and you knew it. You and Aldo both knew, and you didn’t tell me.” I’m on a roll now. It’s all coming together, and I don’t care who knows. I feel as light as air. Getting the weight of this secret off my chest is liberating. I’m tired of hiding, of lying.
“He took Damian because of me. He saw Damian in my dreams and he knew it would hurt me. He turned that boy and let him loose on Rutland to draw me out from behind the gates of the school. It’s exactly what he did with me. And still you did nothing.”
“We didn’t know at first,” she pleads. “I’ve been trying to track him. Just give me more time.” It’s the same argument she gave Aldo earlier, but it holds no sway over me.
“I’ve made up my mind.”
“Pratt has the school on lock down. You’ll never get past the gate.” I know she’s telling the truth. It’s the only card she has left to play.