Cold Blood

by Heather Hildenbrand

  He shrugged. “A rogue Werewolf pack is all they know. One of the families had a kid who goes to school here. He was flown out the day before you got here.”

  “You think the assembly has something to do with that?” I asked.

  “Maybe. Headmaster made it sound serious and all the teachers are here. Not just our grade level.”

  He pointed to the stage where over two dozen teachers sat in rows behind a podium. Headmaster Whitfield was on the end, closest to the podium. Next to him sat Professor Kane. From here, his face looked almost normal. You couldn’t even make out the scars. On his other side was a woman that could only be Professor Flaherty. Her red hair gleamed under the stage lights, looking like a ball of flames hovering over her face. She was leaning over and talking with a woman that looked vaguely familiar to me. I tried to place her but couldn’t make out her features well enough.

  “Who is that?” I asked Logan, pointing at the woman.

  He shrugged. “Don’t know.”

  I looked over at Cambria and caught her craning her neck and scanning the crowd.

  “Is he here?” I asked.

  “I don’t see him.”

  Her lip stuck out in a pout and all the energy seemed to have finally contained itself. She slumped back in her seat, looking bored with the whole thing. Then Headmaster Whitfield stepped to the podium and tapped on the microphone.

  “Good evening, Wood Point student body. I’m sure you are all wondering why you’ve been called here. It seems there has been a tragedy that involves two of our own. As some of you may have heard, a few days ago we received word that the Hilson family and the Romano family had been killed or taken from their homes by an unidentified Werewolf pack. Brendon Romano, a sophomore, was flown out to attend the funeral of his brother and sisters. Tonight we have learned that Brendan has also been reported missing, along with his escorts.”

  A rumbling of murmurs and not-so-hushed whispers went up around the room. I sat in silence. So did Cambria and Logan. Both of them looked as surprised as I was. Most of the kids did. I took that to mean this wasn’t normal news for the Hunter world.

  Headmaster Whitfield cleared his throat a few times and the room fell quiet. “The motive is not yet clear, though there will be a full investigation. In the meantime, the rules regarding student curfew remain in place and will be heavily enforced. Brendan was one of ours and even though he did not disappear from school grounds, every precaution will be taken. Security will be at a maximum and we have extra units on their way to help fill in until we’re sure the danger has passed.

  “I understand that many of you were friends with Brendan and this may be a shock or hard to handle, especially with so little information about the guilty party. The teachers seated behind me have agreed to stay after and speak to any students who feel emotionally affected by this tragedy. If you need someone to talk to, please see one of them. Otherwise you are free to go.”

  Headmaster Whitfield stepped back, signaling the end of the assembly, and everyone around us rose. I stayed where I was, still watching the woman seated next to Professor Flaherty. She was facing forward now, and I had a clear view of her face. It looked like… but, it couldn’t be.

  “You coming?” Cambria asked.

  I kept my eyes on the woman on stage. “I need to talk to… someone,” I said, moving against the stream of exiting bodies.

  I made my way up to the stage and stopped. The woman had noticed me now, too, and watched me with equal interest. I waited until the crowd thinned, both on and off stage, and then stepped up to the edge of the dais.

  “Vera.”

  She rose from her chair and descended the stairs. Her willowy frame and polished gray suit made her appear regal and cold. “Tara. It’s good to see you.” She smiled a tight smile that could have been a polite formality or evidence that it was, in fact, not good to see me. I wasn’t sure which.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked. I couldn’t stand to beat around the bush and I knew enough about Vera to know she wouldn’t tell me unless I came right out with it. Maybe not even then.

  “Vernon asked me to come. I’m going to strengthen the wards around campus.”

  “Because of the attack on that student.”

  It wasn’t a question, but she nodded anyway. An awkward silence fell and I regretted coming up here. When I’d recognized her from my seat in the crowd, I’d felt a connection and a need to speak to her. Now I realized it was only because she’d been a familiar face in unfamiliar territory. I wanted to ask her about Wes, but I couldn’t.

  “How is Jack doing?” I asked instead.

  “He’s recovering well. Fee is doing what she can to speed it up. We’re waiting to see how far her healing ability can take him.”

  “And the rest of the group?”

  “Everyone is fine. They say hello.”

  “They know you’re here?”

  For some reason it bothered me that they’d sent only Vera. She was in charge, basically, until Wes could finish training and take over for Jack, and she’d managed to get away for a day or two. Why couldn’t Wes have come with her?

  “Of course they know. My trip was voted on, like all decisions that affect the group. They send their regards. How are things here?”

  “Um, fine I guess.”

  “You’re training is going well?”

  “Yes. Did something happen at home?” I blurted. “Is that why no one came with you?”

  “Tara.” Vera’s expression softened slightly and I knew that she knew who I meant. “Everything at home is fine. You can’t let yourself worry about that. Being here and learning how to fight properly is very important to your future. So is learning Hunter history and culture.”

  “Being with Wes is important to my future too, though, right?” We both knew I was baiting her.

  “There are steps,” was all she would say. “It’s good to see you. I’ll tell everyone you said hello.” She turned to walk away and then stopped, a strange look on her face. It reminded me of the night she’d stopped me on the way out of Benny’s house. “Tara?”

  “Yes?”

  “Your Lineage project. Have you started that yet?”

  “No.” I shook my head, completely confused as to why she would ask me about that.

  “You should get started. It’s an important assignment.”

  “Okaay.” I walked away, still confused, and a little homesick.

  Cambria and Logan were waiting for me at our seats. The rest of the auditorium was empty.

  “Who was that?” asked Cambria as we walked out.

  “Vera.”

  t="0" wWho’s that?” Logan asked.

  “She’s a member of the Cause. She’s more in charge of it, actually. And she sort of sees the future.”

  “Seriously?” Logan asked. He looked impressed.

  “What’s she doing here?” Cambria asked, looking back at where Vera now stood talking to Professor Kane.

  “Strengthening the wards around the school. Headmaster Whitfield asked her to come.”

  “She creates wards?” Logan looked even more impressed. “Do you think she’d let me–”

  “No,” I said. “She wouldn’t. She’s sort of…” I tried to find a word that fit Vera but I couldn’t find one. “Irritable,” I finished, knowing that wasn’t really accurate. Vera was stern and proper but under all that she seemed serious, to the point of unhappy, and I had no idea why. “Anyway, she was being her usual cryptic self and said something about my Lineage project and how important it was to get started.”

  “And you think she’s fortune telling?” Logan asked. His eyebrows were raised, and I knew he thought I was being dramatic.

  “Maybe. She said it in the same way she talks about her other vision of me; all ‘mysterious, the-future’s-coming’ kind of thing.

  “What other vision?” That was Logan again, and I realized I hadn’t brought him up to speed.

  “Vera had a vision of my future. I’m the next lead
er of the Cause, along with Wes, and we basically single-handedly bring peace to the two races.” Logan stared at me. “Yeah, I know, right?”

  “Do you think she’s right?” he asked.

  “Do you?” I shot back, only because I had no idea how to answer that.

  He shrugged. “If anyone could do it, a hybrid could.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that. We were back inside Lexington Hall now and climbing the stairs for dinner.

  “I’ll help you with your Lineage project,” Logan offered as we got in line for food. “I can help you with the research. Did you bring your family’s Draven?”

  I nodded. “Grandma gave it to me right before I left.”

  “That’ll make it easier. When is your project due?”

  “Sometime before the end of the semester.”

  “Cool. We’ve got time. When do you want to meet?” Logan asked.

  I grabbed a huge plate of Lo Mein and veggies and set it on my tray. “Good question. I have training ‘til dinner basically every day.”

  “We can do after dinner. We can start on Friday. We get an extra two hours before curfew. That should give us enough time to get the research going.”

  “Sounds good,” I agreed. “You want to tag along?” I asked, turning to Cambria.

  “Eww. You guys are talking about the library aren’t you?”

  “Yeah.” I smiled.

  She wrinkled her nose. “No thanks. I’m allergic.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Defensive Maneuvers was definitely my hardest class. I’d managed to get Professor Flaherty to let me hang back again on Monday, to watch. By Tuesday she wasn’t having it.

  “You come from such a strong line, and Alex says you’re a fast learner. I think you’ll do fine to jump right in,” she said.

  To argue would’ve basically been to call myself stupid, so I nodded, wondering how I was supposed to jump in and pick up the crazy dance-kung-fu moves that were a part of her drills. After stumbling through warm-ups, I got partnered with a girl named Iris, who wasn’t nearly as fragile as her name implied. I spent more time on the ground than I did on my feet. I kept looking to Professor Flaherty for mercy, but she would either smile encouragingly like I wasn’t getting my ass kicked or ignore me altogether. Iris didn’t say much, either. She let her hands and feet do the talking, I guess. When it ended, she smiled down at me lying on my back in the grass and walked away.

  Logan appeared and offered a hand, looking sympathetic.

  “Don’t say anything,” I said, brushing myself off, and swiping my hair out of my eyes.

  “Wouldn’t dream of it.” He settled his hat on his head and picked up both our bags. We headed for lunch.

  “I really am a good fighter,” I insisted.

  “I’m sure you are.”

  I sighed. At least the week was progressing without incident from the Wicked Witch of the blonds. At lunch, she sat smug in her corner by the window and only sent me the evil eye like fifty or so times. I could handle that. Maybe what I’d said to her the day before had some effect and she’d decided to leave me alone. I could hope.

  The school day finished and rolled right into training. It was basically a repeat of the day before. Running, running, and more running. Not much speaking in between. Me trying not to puke at the end. I wasn’t sure why we hadn’t done any more sparring. Maybe Alex was trying to avoid it turning into a kindergarten brawl again. I hoped it changed soon. Running could kill a person.

  Alex had tossed me a water bottle, and I knew he was about to make his exit, so I decided to speak up and ask the question that had been on my mind all day.

  “Hey, do you know anywhere around here that gets cell reception?” I hated, hated, hated having to ask him for anything, including this, but he knew the mountain better than anyone and he would know if there was a good spot.

  Alex capped his water and looked into the trees, like he was thinking. “It doesn’t get clear until you get about halfway down the mountain, but you could try the roof.”

  “The roof? Of Lexington Hall? It works up there?”

  “Griffin’s roof is better, but students aren’t supposed to be up there.”

  “Oh.”

  “Cell phones aren’t allowed, you know.”

  “Um…” I trailed off, sure I’d made a gigantic mistake.

  He let me stew for several seconds and then shrugged. “Just keep it off when you’re not using it.”

  “Right. Okay.” I stopped short of “thank you.” Instead I said, “See you tomorrow.”

  He saluted me and then headed for the trail. I was pretty sure we’d just had our first non-antagonistic conversation.

  I showered and changed and hurried through dinner. Logan had an essay to write on something called Rodgers Roundup, which I thought sounded like a bad western novel, but he said was something I’d learn in Hunter History next year; privileged information, courtesy of him being in honors classes. Cambria had something going with Phillipe that I purposely didn’t ask for details on. We parted ways, and I headed for Griffin Hall.

  Outside, the light was waning and throwing shadows on everything. Filtered sunlight trickled through here and there, throwing beams across the stone courtyard and glinting off the waterfall in the center. It was really pretty out here when I wasn’t being stared at like it was the Salem witch trials. A couple of kids whispered and looked over. They looked a year or two younger, and I figured the rumor mill was making its way down the line. They had plenty to choose from, between my awkward tumble and the paper bag incident. Or my DNA.

  I made it to the back entrance of Griffin Hall and slipped inside. The elevator dinged softly at regular intervals so I knew that was not the way to go. I slipped into the stairwell and prayed no one passed me on the way up.

  At the very top was a heavy door marked ‘Roof Access.’ I slipped out and wandered forward. This part of the roof was flat and easy to navigate; lots of empty space broken up by large heating and cooling units and various chimneys. But that wasn’t what got my attention.

  I wandered closer to the edge, staring at the view. It was gorgeous. Every shade of green you could imagine covered the treetops for miles and miles. Beyond that, so distant they wore a ring of haze or clouds, were more tree-covered peaks. I stared until the line between land and sky blurred. Even then, I blinked and then watched some more.

  The light faded, sending long shadows across the roof. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and powered it on. Three new voicemails and one text registered. I hit the button and pressed the phone to my ear, listening to the messages. The first was from Grandma, wishing me luck with my “social dilemma” and telling me to call when I could. The second was a hang up. I waited while the last message loaded, tapping my foot and hoping it was Wes.

  The voice that came over the line was breathy and unrecognizable at first. “Tara. How are you?” Whoever it was seemed to be in the middle of a workout or struggling to lift something heavy. Or maybe they’d gone running with Alex. Then the voice leveled out and I realized who it was.

  “Hope you’re settling in alright at Wood Point Academy. I hear great things about that school. Very prestigious.” I tried to swallow, but my throat was stuck. “Anyway, I’ve got a little project going now so my plans to reunite have been put on hold. As soon as I wrap this up, I’ll come and show you what I mean. I only wanted to say Buongiorno. See you soon.”

  The message ended and I disconnected the call, not bothering to erase it. I finally managed to swallow, but it felt like there was a grapefruit in my windpipe. These messages from Miles were creepy. Miles himself was creepy, but his cryptic voicemails weren’t helping. What project was he talking about? Whatever it was couldn’t be good.

  And how did he know where I was?

  Had someone else in the group been turned? How else was he getting his information? If he knew where I was, wards or not, I knew he’d find a way to get to me. It was only a matter of time. Fear buzzed in the back of my mind
. I clamped down on the feeling, refusing to let it get to me. I had to keep calm so I could figure out how to deal with this.

  The phone rang, and I almost dropped it. I forced myself to breathe deep and checked the screen; not who I was expecting, but at least it wasn’t Miles.

  I answered it. “Hello?”

  “Tara?”

  “Hey, George.”

  “Oh, wow, you finally answered. How are you? Did you get to school okay?”

  “Yes, I got to school okay. I’m fine,” I said, and for some reason, my voice broke on the last word.

  “Tay, talk to me,” he said, quietly.

  I wanted to. In that moment, I really, really wanted to. George had been my best friend until not so long ago, and part of me wanted that again; probably because life had been simpler then. But I couldn’t tell him anything without putting him in danger. Or making him think I’d gone completely insane. “I miss home,” I said, finally.

  “Home misses you, Tay. Did you get my note from Ang and Sam?”

  “Yes, thank you,” I said, smiling and tearing up all at the same time as I remembered his Bon Jovi love letter. “It was sweet.”

  “I’ve been known to emit that quality.” His voice was light, and I knew he was trying to cheer me up. “I’ve been bugging your mom about visiting you but she says they wouldn’t let me in unless it’s an official Friends and Family Day. Something about a list.”

  “That’s okay, George. I’m fine.”

  “You don’t sound fine. You can talk to me, you know.”

  “I know. I….” I trailed off, again searching for words that could be said out loud. “It takes a while to adjust, that’s all.”

  “Are you sure that’s all?”

  “I’m sure.” I swiped my eyes and forced my voice to be lighter. “I’ve gotta go, George, but I’m glad you called.”

  “Okay, well, call me if you need to talk. I’m here for you, Tay.”

  “Thanks. Bye.”

  “Bye.”

  I clicked the phone off and sat on a nearby vent, propping my chin in my hands. I blinked hard against the wetness in my eyes until I knew I wouldn’t completely lose it. I picked up the phone again and wandered to the edge of the roof, looking down over the courtyard.