Dark Craving: A Watchers Novella by Veronica Wolff Read Free Book Online Page A

of me.
    I dive into my lecture.
    “Orienteering,” I say loudly. “Who knows what it is?” Annelise begins to speak, and I cut her off. “Someone else. Isabella?” I turn to the auburn-haired Initiate who’s been on my blacklist since she and her friend tried to drown Annelise in the surf.
    The girl gapes at me with a look of profound boredom. “Isn’t that what you do, like, on the first day of something?”
    “You can’t be serious,” Annelise mutters.
    “You’re thinking of the word orientation ,” I say quickly, before the two have a chance to get into it. “Technically, orienteering is a sport, though it began as a military exercise. Think of it as navigation. How to find your way through rough countryside quickly.”
    I spent months turning Annelise into a strong swimmer. I taught her how to use a grappling hook, how to land a fall. I drilled her through one-armed push-ups, wind sprints, and endless kip-ups. And now, if she ever needs to make a quick escape off the island, I want to make sure she’ll know how to find her way.
    “Can’t the vamps just give us a GPS like the rest of civilization?” someone asks.
    “No GPS,” I say with exaggerated patience. “And what’s more, for our purposes, you won’t have a map or compass either.”
    Annelise gives Isabella a broad smile. “Seeing as you have no moral compass, that shouldn’t be a stretch.”
    “Acari Drew,” I snap. My affection for her runs deep, but in class I have to treat her as I would any other student…even if the joke was a good one. “I appreciate your wordplay, but please let me do the lecturing.”
    She tips her head, hiding a grin. “Yes, Tracer Ronan.”
    Isabella’s eyes narrow on us. The red-haired Acari isn’t exactly the vampires’ pet, but I have seen her chatty with one of Headmaster Fournier’s staff. It’d be the death of me and Annelise both if we presented anything other than the picture of propriety…and I fear we’re not succeeding.
    I turn from Annelise. I need to get my head in the game. If I’m going to assassinate a member of the Directorate and live to see the next day, I need total focus.
    Which means I need Annelise someplace where she can’t give me her smile.
    A solution hits me. I tell the girls, “Tonight you’ll be driven to the far end of the island. You’ll navigate your way home using the stars.”
    I feel Annelise’s reaction the instant the words are out of my mouth. Bloody hell. I catch her eye, sending her a flash of sympathy so brief only she’d notice. The assignment would rake up painful memories for her, being so similar to a punishment she’d endured when she’d first arrived on the island. It’d been the thing that bonded her to Emma, her best friend…Emma, whose death she blames on herself.
    Our eyes meet, and she gives me the hint of a nod. She’s okay, and of course she is. She’s got a spine of steel. She is resolved. She’s a survivor. She’s my Ann.
    I continue my lecture on autopilot. It’s one I’ve given before. And the discussion goes much as it has before. The same questions—some thoughtful, some inane. I can tell by a student’s question whether or not she’ll make it. Whether she’ll survive in a fundamental way. It takes more than savagery to be a skilled Watcher. A Watcher is clever and smart, cool under pressure. She can assemble a homemade weapon as easily as making an omelet. She knows what to say and how to say it—in a variety of languages.
    “Take a heading,” I tell them.
    “What’s a heading?”
    “Find a distant spot in the landscape—a certain rock, there are all kinds of options on this island—and head toward it.”
    “Why do you need a heading?”
    “You might wander in circles without one.”
    “How do you know what direction you’re going?”
    “Look at the sun to orient yourself.” I find the sun in the sky and point to it. “The sun rises in the east and sets in the west. People have used sundials for centuries.