Secret Shifter

by Louise Cypress

  “My dad makes the best potato salad,” said Cassandra as we stood in line for the buffet. “He adds extra pickles.”

  “Sounds delicious.” I clutched my plate and utensils. “So, Al and Natalie are your parents then?”

  Cassandra nodded. “And Van’s my brother.”

  “That’s what I thought. This silverware is something else.” I inspected the ornate pattern. “Why is it so heavy?”

  “Because it’s sterling silver,” said the guy standing behind me. It was Kellogg, whom I recognized from the run. He was five inches taller than me and had dark-brown skin and broad shoulders. “You should see the tricks Cassandra can do with a fork. She’s deadly.” Kellogg looked at her admiringly.

  Cassandra shrugged. “I’ve been practicing since I was little. The problem is that most silverware is made of stainless steel. In the olden days, slayers used to be able to take out vampires at dinner parties using the flatware in front of them, but these days fork throwing is just a cool party trick.”

  “I’d love to see it sometime.” We’d reached the food now, and I loaded up my plate with watermelon and coleslaw. I skipped the hamburger bun, preferring to eat my burger caveman-style. “There was a kid in one of my foster homes who threw forks too, but he ended up in juvie.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I regretted them. Why had I said that? I never talked about personal stuff with strangers.

  “I saw that when I did your background check.” Cassandra added a cluster of grapes to her plate. “But that kid gouged someone’s eyes out. For slaying purposes, it’s always better to aim for the heart.”

  “My veggie burger is burnt,” Gretchen whined from farther down the buffet line. Her mousy, brown hair was flat-ironed pin-straight, and she wore platform heels that made her look like she might tip over at any moment.

  “Sorry,” said Van. “I can grill you up another one.”

  “She’s my Uncle Jared’s stepdaughter,” Cassandra said under her breath. “Or almost his stepdaughter. He hasn’t married her mother yet, but they’re engaged.”

  I gave Gretchen a closer look. I didn’t approve of body-shaming, but Gretchen wore a tank top that exposed her arms as she held her plate of food. She didn’t look like she had the upper body strength to ward off vampires, let alone slay them.

  “Gretchen’s been my roommate for the past two months.” Cassandra grimaced. “But Leah said I could move into her and Sarah’s room and make it a triple.” Her eyes brightened. “You get my old bed. I hope you brought earplugs. Gretchen snores.”

  “I can sleep through anything.” I added corn on the cob to my potato salad.

  “Burger or chicken?” Van asked me when I reached the barbecue.

  “Burger, please.”

  He slid a patty onto my plate. “No hamburger bun? Are you paleo or something?”

  I shook my head. “No. I had baked potatoes for lunch. I just like meat better without the extra carbs.”

  “Makes sense to me,” Van said as he offered Cassandra a chicken thigh.

  “I hope you cooked that all the way through.” Cassandra peered down at the poultry. “Did you test it with a meat thermometer?”

  “Yes, Cass. I did.” Van rolled his eyes.

  Cassandra and I wandered away to a table and chairs by the side of the pool, where Leah, Max, Kellogg, and Gretchen sat. “Van’s girlfriend is a Puritan,” Cassandra told me. “That means a vampire who forsakes human blood.”

  “Yeah.” I pulled out a chair. “He and your mom explained that to me.”

  “Oh. So, then you already know about the paleo thing.” Cassandra sat down next to Max.

  “What paleo thing?” I asked.

  “Puritans throw up if they eat carbs,” said Leah. She had shiny, black hair and a flawless complexion. “They can only eat meat, fish, nuts, or vegetables.”

  “Fruit, too,” said Max. “In limited quantities.” His tanned skin made the orange yellow shirt he wore appear extra bright.

  “I’m so sick of hearing about Puritans.” Gretchen blew her bangs out of her face. “They’re all a bunch of liars if you ask me.”

  “They’re not liars.” Cassandra’s cheeks turned pink. “Some of my best friends are Puritans.”

  “And your ex-boyfriend.” Max poked her in the ribs.

  “Stop that.” Cassandra glared at him. “Unless you want your finger snapped off?”

  “Geesh!” Max held up his hands in defeat. “Sorry. I was just teasing.”

  “Never tease Cassandra,” said Kellogg. “She has a black belt in Tae Kwon Do.”

  I wasn’t sure whom Kellogg was talking to, but I answered anyway. “Duly noted,” I said as I sliced up my hamburger.

  “My little brother has a black belt in Tae Kwon Do.” Gretchen spread mayonnaise on her veggie burger. “It’s not a big deal.”

  “Your little brother?” Cassandra’s fist curled around her fork. “The twelve-year-old?”

  Gretchen nodded and licked mayonnaise off her fingers. “My mom says Tae Kwon Do is a huge racket. You basically buy your way to black belt.”

  Cassandra gripped her fork so tight that the metal would have bent if it were made of cheaper material. “I have a seventh-degree black belt.”

  Gretchen snickered. “That must have cost your parents a lot of money.”

  Quick as a flash, Cassandra pulled back her arm and released the fork at a deadly angle. It sliced through the top of Gretchen’s veggie burger, skewering the bun to the wooden picnic table.

  Gretchen screamed. “Crazy bitch! You could’ve killed me!”

  “Yeah.” Cassandra smiled coolly. “I could have—if I’d wanted to.” She stalked across the patio and into the house, right when her brother came over to investigate.

  “Okay, first-years. What’s going on?” Van stared at the dismembered sandwich.

  “Your sister’s a lunatic, that’s what’s going on.” Gretchen wiped splattered mayonnaise off her shirt. She added something in German that I couldn’t understand, but which made Van scowl.

  Van looked around the group. “Does anyone remember what I told you the first day of training?”

  Leah raised her hand. “We’re not here to fight each other. We’re here to slay vampires.”

  Van nodded. “That’s right.” He pried the fork out of the table and pointed it at us. “I expect better from all of you, especially with a prospective student here witnessing your behavior.”

  “It’s not our fault your sister is a whack-job.” Gretchen sneered.

  Van clenched his jaw. “Cassandra’s just easily triggered at the moment because of her breakup.”

  “Maybe Gretchen should move into my room instead of Cassandra,” offered Leah.

  Van set down the fork and rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s not a bad idea.” He turned toward me. “What do you think, Kate? Would you rather room with Gretchen or Cassandra?”

  I froze. “Is Leah an option?” I asked.

  Kellogg and Max busted out laughing, and Leah and Van joined in. “Good one,” said Van, giving me a fist bump.

  Across the table, Gretchen glared at me with what could only be called malicious intent. If looks could kill, I’d be dead right now.

  Chapter 11

  It turns out I didn’t have a choice in roommates. By the time I took my bag upstairs, Cassandra had already packed up her things and moved into the room Leah shared with a second-year student named Sarah. Cassandra came back for one last load of clothing, which she removed from the closet in a giant clump of hangers. “Have fun living with Gretchen,” said Cassandra, kicking the door open with her foot so she could squeeze through with the things she carried.

  “Thanks.” I kept a firm grip on my backpack and surveyed the space. It was smaller than my dorm room in Tioga Hall. There were metal bunkbeds on one side and two dressers pushed against the opposing wall. Instead of desks, there were lapboards on the beds. A tangled heap of sheets spilled out of the bottom bunk, but the top bed was neatly made. On th
e wall were posters of European cathedrals. I didn’t know which ones because I’d never taken art history. Or traveled, obviously.

  I set my backpack on top of the empty dresser. The one beside it had two dozen types of lotions, creams, and serums all scattered across the top. Gretchen’s dresser drawers were open, and I saw wads of clothing stuffed inside in a way guaranteed to produce wrinkles.

  “Where’s your suitcase?” Gretchen asked, standing in the doorway. “Aren’t you going to unpack?”

  “This is my suitcase.” I unzipped my backpack and pulled out my toiletries bag. “I’m only here for two nights unless it works out for good.”

  “Oh, it’ll work out, all right.” Gretchen flopped on her bed. “They love orphans.”

  “What?” I dropped my hairbrush on the carpet and reached down to pick it up. “And don’t call me an orphan.”

  “Excuse me for trying to make conversation.” Gretchen pulled out a nail file from underneath her pillow and began sawing it across her fingernails.

  “Why did you say that about me being an orphan?”

  “Because it’s true, isn’t it?” Gretchen inspected her thumbnail. “Waise. That’s how we say it in German.”

  “No, I mean about slayers wanting orphans?”

  “Oh. That.” Gretchen stretched out her legs and curled her toes. “Orphans make the best candidates because nobody misses them if they die.”

  “Die?” My shoulders tensed.

  “Killed by vampires, freak accident in training, whatever.” Gretchen shrugged. “There’s a memorial garden for dead slayers in the front yard. Did you see the fountain? Anyhow, once we graduate, slayers move to a new location every six months, completing assignments. It’s not the best lifestyle for families.”

  “But I thought that the Xanders were a family?”

  “They are.” Gretchen looked at me like I was stupid. “And Natalie’s brother, Jared Helsing, is director of Helsing Incorporated and president of the Slayer Council.”

  “So?”

  “So the rules don’t apply to the Xanders, do they?” Gretchen blew on her fingertips. “Or to me, either. My mom’s marrying Jared next month on Christmas Eve.”

  That was it, then. The Xanders wanted me because I was expendable, not because they thought I was a diamond in the rough with untapped potential for slaying vampires. I was stupid to have thought otherwise. I kept my face neutral, trying to mask my disappointment.

  “What time do we get up in the morning?” I asked, taking out my phone to program the alarm.

  Gretchen groaned. “Crack of dawn. Can you believe they want us to wake up at 6 a.m. on a Saturday? This place is the worst. At least it’s Friday. The movie will start in twenty minutes and that’ll give me a chance to take a long shower and use as much hot water as I want.”

  “A movie sounds fun.” I tapped on my phone, double-checking that the alarm was synced for six.

  “Yeah,” said Gretchen. “Every Friday night they show a movie downstairs, but it’s optional.”

  “Great.” I zipped up my backpack. “I love movies, especially old ones. My grandpa used to let me stay up late to watch them when he babysat me.”

  Gretchen snorted. “Well, then you’ll adore movie night. They only show classics. It’s one werewolf and vampire flick after another. Some of them don’t even have sound.” She rolled over and faced the wall, effectively ending our conversation.

  There was a light tap on the door. It was Leah, who pushed it open a few seconds later. “How’s it going in here?” she asked with a forced smile. “Everything okay?”

  “Just peachy,” I answered in a deadpan tone.

  Leah waved me over. “Natalie asked me to give you a quick tour before the movie starts.”

  “Great.” I bit my lip and looked at my backpack. I didn’t want to leave it unattended in the room where Gretchen could paw through it, but it wasn’t like there was anything valuable inside except my junky old Acer computer. Still, value was relative for someone like me. I only owned two pairs of pajamas, and one of them was inside that bag.

  “Are you ready?” Leah asked.

  I nodded. “Yup.” I took my phone and said a silent prayer that my things would be okay while I was gone. I’d know if anything was messed with because everything was folded in a way that would have made Marie Kondo proud.

  “Okay, let’s go.” Leah led me into the hallway. “We have twenty minutes before the movie starts. They’re showing Buffy the Vampire Slayer tonight—the movie, not the TV series.”

  “Cool. I love Luke Perry. It’s sad he died so young.”

  Leah nodded. “He was great in Riverdale. My mom and I used to binge watch it while my dad practiced his sermons.” Leah pulled a strand of hair behind her ear. “My dad’s a bishop in the Methodist church and an important contact for corpse removal. That was how I found out about Slayer Academy. Once I learned about vampires, I wanted to become a slayer.”

  “Yeah. Me too.”

  Leah paused when we got to the end of the hallway and stood by a large window with open blinds, revealing an orange sunset. “Back to the tour,” she said. “Here’s the deal. Originally, this house was a 10,000-square-foot mansion owned by Lucas Siban, one of the most prominent Puritans on the No Slay list. He still lives three doors up the street with his wife and her out-of-control savannah cat. It’s fifty percent African serval.” Leah lowered her voice. “Don’t mention the cat to Cassandra or she’ll start crying.”

  “Cassandra? Crying?” I found that hard to believe.

  “Cassandra’s ex-boyfriend was the original owner of the cat, and the savannah brings back bad memories.”

  “My lips are sealed.” I pulled an imaginary zipper across my mouth.

  Leah continued her story. “Four years ago, Helsing Incorporated purchased this property from Lucas Siban and remodeled it to become Slayer Academy. The bonus room upstairs was converted into extra bedrooms. Downstairs, the wine room, morning room, and media room became classrooms and lecture halls. The library, of course, is still a library.” Leah pointed to the door two doors to her right. “This wing is the boys’ dormitory. That means Max and Kellogg, who are first-years, and Dereck, James, and Bao, who are second-years.”

  Leah spun on her heel and walked back toward the room I shared with Gretchen. “The girls’ bedrooms are smaller. Cassandra, Gretchen, and I are first-years, and Sarah, Kassie, Abeer, and Eliza are second-years.”

  “There are only twelve students total?”

  Leah pulled a lock of hair behind her ear. “Thirteen, if you join us.”

  “Lucky me.” I wasn’t superstitious, but I didn’t like the idea of being thirteenth.

  “Now listen,” said Leah, widening her stance. “This is really important. See those double doors through there?”

  I looked down the hallway to the other wing of the house. “Yeah.”

  “That’s Natalie and Al’s private residence and none of us are allowed to go in there. Got it?”

  I nodded. “What about Van or the instructors? Where do they stay?” Come to think of it, I didn’t know if there were instructors. Did Natalie and Van handle everything?

  “Faculty lives downstairs.” Leah poked her head through an open doorway. “The guys have their own bathroom. The girls have a sign-up for the showers so you don’t have to wait in line.”

  I saw a whiteboard on the wall. Gretchen’s name was in bold letters across three lines for Friday evening. Most of the Saturday spots were already taken. “Should I write down my name?”

  “You better.” She handed me a marker. “Good luck with the hot water. The second-years have been campaigning for a tankless hot water heater for a year and a half, but it doesn’t look like that will ever happen.”

  After I’d secured the worst shower spot on the schedule, Leah took me downstairs to see the classrooms.

  “The media room’s our main lecture hall,” said Leah as we walked past two doors pushed wide open. Inside, I saw Al setting up for t
he movie. A giant screen descended from the ceiling, and a projector hummed at the other side of the room.

  “Popcorn or candy?” Al asked when he caught me staring at him.

  “What?” I jerked back, ashamed that I was spying.

  “Do you prefer popcorn or candy when you go to the movies?” he asked again.

  “I don’t go to the movies.” My hands sweated. “At least, not since I was little.”

  “Well, I guess you get some of both, then.” Al poured kettle corn from an enormous bag into a red cup. “You need to make up for lost time.” He looked at Leah and winked. “And I suppose you don’t want any, am I right?”

  “Please keep the Junior Mints away from me.” Leah wagged her finger at him. “You promised.”

  Al laughed and shook out a few more kernels into a cup. “You look tiny, but boy, can you pack away sugar.”

  “I’m trying to cut back.” Leah groaned and squeezed her eyes shut. “But it’s so addicting.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to be giving Kate a tour?” Natalie walked past us, sorting through junk mail.

  “Almost done,” Leah answered in a perky voice. “Come on, Kate. I’ll show you the other classrooms.”

  We didn’t take very long because there were only two classrooms left. One was a large multipurpose room with no furniture and padded floors.

  “This is where we do self-defense and weapons training.” Leah tried to open a cabinet next to the window, but it was locked. “The knives are in here,” she said. “But the whips and chains are in the garage.”

  “Um… Okay.” I’d never fought with a weapon in my life. Maybe I was in over my head. I blinked my eyes rapidly as doubt overwhelmed me. But then I remembered crushing through that vampire’s throat last night and stood up straighter. I needed to give myself more credit. I wasn’t just a runner—I was also a fighter. There was more to me than met the eye.