Crossroads (Crossroads Academy #1)
Page 6
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Professor Moore is not at all what I’d expected. I had assumed that anyone who taught Vampir history would’ve been around to experience most of it firsthand. Apparently I was wrong. Moore is relatively young. I know because he doesn’t look a day over 30 by human standards. I figure he’s probably got a few (maybe three?) centuries under his belt. I like him immediately.
He doesn’t give me a hard time for being late, and he’s got a bounce in his step that suggests he doesn’t take himself too seriously, although he’s pretty intense about the subject he teaches. Moore’s sporting rumpled khakis and a Hawaiian shirt, which he’s left open at the collar. He’s got a roguish vibe, with his sloppy clothes and shaggy brown hair, which makes him more endearing than most teachers could ever hope to be. A quick glance at his feet reveals leather flip-flops that complete his seasonally inspired ensemble. I doubt my others teachers will be half as cool.
I settle into my desk and furtively scan the room wondering if it’s apparent to my classmates that I don’t belong in this beginner’s course. The others seem a little younger, but no one’s paying any attention to me. They’re all too wrapped up in their own thoughts and experiences here at Crossroads to bother. The guy sitting next to me is twitching like a junkie. His leg bounces furiously which leads me to the obvious conclusion that he’s craving. Either he missed breakfast or he didn’t feed enough. The girl on my right is compulsively straightening her hair and skirt alternately.
I’m pleased to discover that at least in this classroom my reputation has not preceded me. I smile, enjoying the anonymity, and focus my attention back on Professor Moore, who’s strolling the aisles explaining his expectations for the course. Sounds fair enough. Work load will be heavy, but I’m prepared.
“It’s important that each of you actively participate,” Moore says quietly. “In order to be successful in this course, it will be necessary for each of you to develop your critical thinking skills and your understanding of your heritage. There is nothing as important as knowing where you come from. Knowing our past and understanding the events that have shaped our lives helps us chart a course for the future. It gives us purpose. It gives us guidance. It gives us understanding.”
I consider his words carefully. I can’t help but think they ring true after everything I read last night. The Vampir society has survived a great deal. And still, after thousands of years, our existence is not recognized by the outside world. We are the stuff of nightmares, myths, and science fiction. I know much of the mystery has been inspired and proliferated by our own kind as a means of misdirection. Much of the lure stems from the early ages, when bloodlust and indiscriminate transfigurations ran rampant.
The survival of our society and the Covens is a tightly knit web held together by the Elders Council. With their guidance it would seem that we’ve flourished. We’ve beaten persecution, wars, foamea. For better or worse, we’ve become a wealthy society full of talent and privilege.
The Council has even created balance among the purebloods and mixed-bloods, which might have seemed impossible at one time. The Linkuri nearly wiped out all de sange amestecat in an effort to stop unbridled conversion and internal power struggles during the middle ages. The transfigured were hunted relentlessly and slaughtered mercilessly. The mixed-bloods have since repopulated, but they will never join the ruling class. And, though the peace among us is tenuous at best, it is there.
Now, it seems we face our greatest challenge: a blood disease known as otrava de sange that threatens to wipe out the born vampires. It’s a scary thought since we don’t conceive and procreate easily. The questions persist in my mind, as Moore dives into the early days of vampirism and the spread of our race through the old countries.
I do my best to stay focused as Moore lectures but find my mind wandering. I think of Aldo and Lissette and wonder if my presence will be missed at the manor. I try to imagine how Viktor, Aldo’s most loyal member of the Linkuri and my Jujutsu instructor, will spend his evenings now that I am gone. I remember the sense of peace I felt during my last swim in the lake, the soft waves lapping at my skin as my naked body cut across the water.
When Moore dismisses the class I’m surprised to discover that, not only have I missed much of the subject matter, but also there are no bells at Crossroads. Apparently the students are thought too civilized to be herded by such a déclassé tactic. I promise myself that I’ll be more focused as the day progresses even though I know it’s unlikely. I’ve never minded school but have always had difficulty staying attentive.
The rest of the day is a blur of uptight professors, syllabi, and whispers. I finally make it to the dining hall over the lunch hour and grab a lukewarm mug of horse blood. I sit in the corner and make no attempt to join the other students. I’m not as lucky as I was in my history class. It seems that word of my presence has spread since this morning, and I have no doubt whom I can thank. I ignore the whispers, thinking the ludicrous rumors might be comical if they weren’t about me.
Three o’clock can’t roll around fast enough so that I’ll have the freedom to retreat to the seclusion of my room. It’s exhausting trying to bite my tongue and control my temper. I thought the academics were going to be the difficult part of Crossroads, but I’m starting to think I severely misjudged the situation. The highlight of my afternoon is that I manage to avoid Lexie and Jade, which I deem a small blessing in and of itself.