shoreline as they poke at some poor creature washed ashore. “It’s time,” I call. Measuring my tone has made it overly harsh. I don’t care. On this island, shows of kindness are deadly. “Class. Now.”
As the Initiates stand and stalk up the beach toward me, the difference between them and their fallen classmates is clear. Lithe and catsuited, they have the grace of predators. They are savagery and hunger, weapons in female form. They are a sight to behold—and their attention is zeroed in on me.
There are men who’d envy my position. Those men are fools.
This time next year, there will be even fewer survivors from this class. While a small fraction of male students successfully transition from Trainees to Vampire, even fewer of the females endure the ascension from Acari to Initiate to Guidon to finally become the cream of the cream, the most elite, a Watcher.
Annelise could make it, I think, and as I do, I feel her appear by my side. “You’re back,” she says under her breath as we wait for the rest of the girls.
“Aye,” I manage. I want to turn, to stand closer, but force myself to ignore her.
I feel her smirk as she says, “You’re doing the secretive thing again.”
“Aye,” I repeat blandly, knowing it’ll coax a laugh from her. It’s unwise, like a stupid, sodding schoolboy, but her laugh warms me even more than her smile.
“Okay, be that way.” She pauses. “I worried you left me,” she says, her tone uneasy. Earlier this term, Carden left her for weeks. She must’ve thought it was my turn.
I let myself look at her, finally. “I’m here,” I say, infusing my voice with a gravity I hope she hears. “I’m not leaving.”
Something eases around her eyes, setting them alight, and I have to look away.
“Good,” she says, perky once more. “They had Otto subbing this Wilderness Workshop of yours”—she shoots me a challenging grin, unable to resist teasing the name of my class—“and it just wasn’t the same. He’s way too metrosexual to be teaching us how to, like, find and treat water. He strikes me as more a how-to-find-and-treat-your-espresso-while-in-Berlin kinda guy.”
I shoot her a scolding look. I didn’t time this right at all. I should’ve slowed my pace sooner than I did. This is way too much time alone with her. Way too much biting my cheek not to smile.
She sidles closer. “I need to talk to you.”
I stiffen. She’s too close. Her hair carries a sweet, clean scent, like pears, and it startles me.
I shift away, but we’ve moved at the same time, and her arm brushes mine. The warmth of her, so near to me, prickles my skin with goose bumps. My muscles seize, my back stiffening. I cup a hand around my mouth to yell down the beach. “Party’s over, ladies. Double time it. Let’s get to work.”
“Seriously, Ronan.” She sounds so urgent, so alone and needy.
I can’t resist it, can’t resist her.
“I heard you,” I say quietly. “Later. We’ll talk in the dining hall.”
“No, it needs to be private.” She edges closer. “Can we walk back together?”
Together. How that would be…
I edge away. “That’s no good.” Too many eyes are watching us.
“Tonight?”
“There’s something I need to do tonight.” Stake out Dagursson. Maybe even stake Dagursson. I need to get this mission over with. I need to focus. Survive. Make sure I can stay here. Near her.
“Then when, Ronan?” The others are getting closer, and she’s spoken to me in a whisper, her husky voice a quiet murmur at my side. “There’s something I have to tell you.”
Ten thousand scenarios shoot through my head, each one a fiery comet of possibility.
“Tomorrow.” My voice has grown cold, but I don’t know any other way. I don’t know how to do this. “Catch me after breakfast tomorrow.”
She shrugs. I feel how tense she is, how anxious and preoccupied, but I can’t let it get to me. Can’t let her get to me, not when I have this suicide mission ahead
As the Initiates stand and stalk up the beach toward me, the difference between them and their fallen classmates is clear. Lithe and catsuited, they have the grace of predators. They are savagery and hunger, weapons in female form. They are a sight to behold—and their attention is zeroed in on me.
There are men who’d envy my position. Those men are fools.
This time next year, there will be even fewer survivors from this class. While a small fraction of male students successfully transition from Trainees to Vampire, even fewer of the females endure the ascension from Acari to Initiate to Guidon to finally become the cream of the cream, the most elite, a Watcher.
Annelise could make it, I think, and as I do, I feel her appear by my side. “You’re back,” she says under her breath as we wait for the rest of the girls.
“Aye,” I manage. I want to turn, to stand closer, but force myself to ignore her.
I feel her smirk as she says, “You’re doing the secretive thing again.”
“Aye,” I repeat blandly, knowing it’ll coax a laugh from her. It’s unwise, like a stupid, sodding schoolboy, but her laugh warms me even more than her smile.
“Okay, be that way.” She pauses. “I worried you left me,” she says, her tone uneasy. Earlier this term, Carden left her for weeks. She must’ve thought it was my turn.
I let myself look at her, finally. “I’m here,” I say, infusing my voice with a gravity I hope she hears. “I’m not leaving.”
Something eases around her eyes, setting them alight, and I have to look away.
“Good,” she says, perky once more. “They had Otto subbing this Wilderness Workshop of yours”—she shoots me a challenging grin, unable to resist teasing the name of my class—“and it just wasn’t the same. He’s way too metrosexual to be teaching us how to, like, find and treat water. He strikes me as more a how-to-find-and-treat-your-espresso-while-in-Berlin kinda guy.”
I shoot her a scolding look. I didn’t time this right at all. I should’ve slowed my pace sooner than I did. This is way too much time alone with her. Way too much biting my cheek not to smile.
She sidles closer. “I need to talk to you.”
I stiffen. She’s too close. Her hair carries a sweet, clean scent, like pears, and it startles me.
I shift away, but we’ve moved at the same time, and her arm brushes mine. The warmth of her, so near to me, prickles my skin with goose bumps. My muscles seize, my back stiffening. I cup a hand around my mouth to yell down the beach. “Party’s over, ladies. Double time it. Let’s get to work.”
“Seriously, Ronan.” She sounds so urgent, so alone and needy.
I can’t resist it, can’t resist her.
“I heard you,” I say quietly. “Later. We’ll talk in the dining hall.”
“No, it needs to be private.” She edges closer. “Can we walk back together?”
Together. How that would be…
I edge away. “That’s no good.” Too many eyes are watching us.
“Tonight?”
“There’s something I need to do tonight.” Stake out Dagursson. Maybe even stake Dagursson. I need to get this mission over with. I need to focus. Survive. Make sure I can stay here. Near her.
“Then when, Ronan?” The others are getting closer, and she’s spoken to me in a whisper, her husky voice a quiet murmur at my side. “There’s something I have to tell you.”
Ten thousand scenarios shoot through my head, each one a fiery comet of possibility.
“Tomorrow.” My voice has grown cold, but I don’t know any other way. I don’t know how to do this. “Catch me after breakfast tomorrow.”
She shrugs. I feel how tense she is, how anxious and preoccupied, but I can’t let it get to me. Can’t let her get to me, not when I have this suicide mission ahead
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