Secret Shifter

by Louise Cypress

  “I can teach you,” said Gretchen, interrupting my thoughts. “My dad’s an executive at BMW. I practically grew up behind the wheel.”

  “Really?” I asked. “That would be amazing. Thank you. But what about insurance? I don’t have any.”

  “I have insurance. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Wow. Thank you so much!” Maybe Gretchen wasn’t as bad as I thought.

  “The problem will be finding time.” She yawned. “Thursday nights are free, though. G’night.”

  “Night.” I burrowed underneath my covers. Would I still be here Thursday night? I hoped so.

  The next morning dawned bright and early. Dudley took us up to the Mount Soledad Veterans Memorial at sunrise before tourists had arrived, and we all practiced whip techniques at the top of the mountain. By the end of the first hour, Cassandra allowed me to graduate from the rope and tennis ball to the bullwhip, and I only sliced my arm one time. I even managed to make the whip crack.

  “It’s all in the arm,” Cassandra told me as she practiced with the nine-section chain whip. “You’re doing great.”

  “Thanks.” I dropped my elbow for a few seconds and watched Cassandra hook the metal chain around her neck and flick it off into another direction. Dudley gave her pointers, and she was a fast learner.

  After the first-years finished our whip workshop, we walked back down the hill to the Academy for brunch. Seagulls buzzed over us, soaring in the wind, and the sunshine warmed my skin. It was a beautiful day in La Jolla, and I was headed home to a mansion.

  Home. Would Slayer Academy really be my new home? Van hadn’t said anything yet about how I was doing, and neither had Natalie. I redoubled my efforts to listen carefully and follow every instruction to the letter.

  “Pick up the pace, people,” said Van. “We’ve got a lot to do today.” He marched us in a line across the intersection for the turnoff to the memorial, then over to the sidewalk. When we walked past the iron gates of the Siban mansion, I got chills, despite the warming temperature. The enormous cat snarled at us and pounced against the bars.

  “Hey there, Dukey.” Van waved at the feline, who was leashed to a long line running from the house to the gate.

  “Don’t call him ‘Dukey,’” said Cassandra. “His name is Hayduke.” She bit her lip and looked at the animal. “Savannahs shouldn’t be leashed like that.”

  “At least he gets some outside time,” said Max. His tanned skin seemed even browner after our morning practice.

  “Hayduke wouldn’t run away if Susan were out there with him.” Cassandra folded her arms in front of her chest.

  “It’s none of our business,” Van said in a warning tone. “And it’s just a cat.”

  “‘Just a cat’?” Cassandra’s voice raised. “I can’t believe you said that.”

  “Leave it,” Van commanded.

  “That cat creeps me out,” said Gretchen. “I’ve never seen a house cat that big before.”

  “Hayduke’s not a house cat,” said Cassandra. “He’s part serval, a wildcat from Africa.”

  Gretchen raised her eyebrows. “Like I said, creepy.”

  We arrived at the Academy and Van punched in the code to the gate. As soon as we stepped onto the porch, I smelled cinnamon rolls and fresh coffee. When we opened the front door, it was like walking into a bakery.

  “Oh, my goodness.” Leah clasped her hands together. “We’ve entered heaven.”

  “Get ’em while they’re hot,” called Al from the kitchen.

  We descended on the brunch buffet like wolves. Al had outdone himself by not only making cinnamon rolls, but also an egg and veggie casserole, fruit salad, fresh orange juice, and homemade granola.

  “What comes after brunch?” I licked frosting off my fingertips.

  “Stalking,” said Van. “The rest of the first-years have been studying for two months, so you’ll just have to do the best you can to keep up.”

  “Okay.” I wiped my mouth with a napkin. I couldn’t say so, but stalking was something I thought I’d be good at because I had a natural advantage. Of course, my senses were best when I was a bloodhound, but even as a human, my sense of smell was better than most. Three years of living in the foster care system had made me alert and observant. Plus, I was smart. If there were clues, I would find them. I was a journalism major, after all.

  Half an hour later, the first-years sat in the media room, only this time the lights were on. Everyone had paper and pencils but me. “Here,” said Leah as she ripped out a page from her spiral-bound notebook. “Use this.”

  “Thanks.” I stared down at the lined paper. “Do I have time to go up to my room and grab a pencil?”

  “No need.” Kellogg tapped me on the shoulder and offered me a pen. “I brought extras. Would you like a fountain pen or ballpoint?”

  “Ballpoint. Thanks.” I couldn’t believe I was embarrassing myself already. “I didn’t realize we were going to take notes, or I would have come prepared.” I printed my name and the date at the top of the paper.

  “Stalking and vampire lore are the only two first-year classes that aren’t hands on,” said Max. He took off his baseball cap and raked his fingers through his sandy blond hair.

  “Oh.” I gulped. Maybe I wouldn’t be as good at this class as I’d anticipated. I was counting on it being practical, not theoretical.

  Van came into the classroom and plugged his computer into the projector at the front of the classroom. A PowerPoint presentation glowed to life. Gretchen yawned and I didn’t blame her. The early morning whip workshop, combined with a carb-loaded meal and comfy chairs, made it hard to stay awake. My eyelids grew heavy and I fought the urge to doze.

  But once Van began flashing dead bodies on the screen, I woke up fast.

  “Corpse identification is one of the most important skills a slayer needs to effectively do their job.” Van clicked the remote three times and dead bodies splashed across the screen. There was a girl with braided hair slumped on concrete, a man lying on a park bench with a needle in his arm, and a woman sprawled in an office chair with a rip in her nylons. Van pushed the clicker again, and the screen went black. “One of those bodies was a vampire. Which was it?” he asked.

  I thought fast. The girl on the concrete was at the bottom of stairs, so maybe she’d tripped and broken her neck. The man in the park looked like he was shooting up heroin. He might not even have been dead. The woman in her office chair with the run in her stockings could have been napping—or had a migraine or something. I didn’t see obvious signs that any of them were vampires.

  “The junkie in the park,” said Kellogg. “Maybe the drugs were a cover to feed on unsuspecting users.”

  “Could be.” Van’s eyes scanned the classroom. “Any other suggestions?”

  “The girl on the ground?” asked Leah.

  “Because…” Van prompted.

  “I don’t know.” Leah shrugged. “Her neck was turned to the side. Maybe we couldn’t see the bite marks?”

  “I think it was the secretary,” said Gretchen. “It’s always the secretary.”

  “Spoken like the daughter of the secretary who’s marrying my uncle.” Cassandra wrinkled her nose. “Talk about sleeping—”

  “My mom’s not Jared’s secretary!” Gretchen slammed her fist on her desk. “She’s his administrative assistant.”

  “That’s a vote for the office worker,” said Van. “Any other guesses?”

  My canine senses couldn’t help me now. It was only me and my human instincts doing the best they could. I turned my attention to Van and saw his jaw twitch, like he was trying not to laugh. I raised my hand.

  “Kate?” Van pointed at me. “What’s your guess?”

  “The vampire is in the fourth screen.”

  “There is no fourth screen,” said Cassandra. “We only saw three dead bodies.”

  I felt stupid as soon as she said it. Humiliation was what I deserved for taking an unnecessary risk, but I forged on anyway with my gues
s. “Natalie told us Friday night that some vampires could become invisible. Maybe the blank screen is really a picture of a vampire whom we can’t see.”

  Van grinned and rubbed his chin. “Clever,” he said. “But that’s actually too clever.” Van clicked the remote control and the screen glowed to life. However…” He reversed the slideshow and pulled the presentation back to the second screen. “Did anyone notice something special about this picture?”

  I leaned forward in my seat, peering at the image. At first my eyes lingered on the drug abuser, his ratty pants and torn shoes catching my attention. Then my gaze drifted up and inspected the oak tree above him. Tiny hairs on the back of my neck stood up. “There’s a bat.” I pointed at the branches. “Right there in the corner.”

  Van clapped his hands. “Bingo!”

  “Puh-lease.” Cassandra glared at her brother. “Only one percent of vampires can transfigure into other creatures. You’re going to make people think that every vampire can transform into a bat, and that every bat is really a vampire.”

  “Yeah,” said Max. “I thought that most bats ate harmful bugs and were good for the environment.”

  “That’s true.” Van nodded. “But look closely at that bat in particular. Does it look like it belongs in California?” He tapped the touchpad on his computer and blew up the image.

  The bat was a foot long, and black—totally unlike the tiny brown fruit bats I’d seen around La Jolla.

  “That was just a warm-up exercise to make sure you were paying attention.” Van tapped the remote and a new slide popped up. “Let’s continue where we left off last week with our lecture on skin-tone identification.”

  I remembered the victim on North Torrey Pines Road and how the campus security officer had said her skin had looked like blue cheese. I tried to stop myself, but the next thing I pictured was Mom’s clammy cheek on the kitchen floor. Pale as fat free milk and drained of color.

  “As soon as vampiritis hits a victim’s system, they become paler.” Van forwarded to a slide that showed every skin color on Earth, only paler. “Notice the vein transparency. That only lasts for the first 48 hours after infection. After that—”

  Yeaow! A giant furry blob smashed against the window and slid down the screen.

  “Hayduke?” Cassandra asked.

  “Holy crap!” Van shouted. “What’s Dukey doing in our yard?”

  I wasn’t sure why a lost cat warranted an interruption in our slayer training, but apparently this was a big deal. Cassandra and Van raced out of the room while the rest of us gathered by the window to watch what was going on. Meanwhile, the savannah scratched and clawed at the screen, tearing it to shreds.

  “This isn’t good,” Kellogg muttered.

  “Why not?” I asked.

  “That cat has a sixth sense when it comes to vampires,” he explained. “We learned about it in vampire lore.”

  “Shoot,” said Leah. “You don’t think this means there’s a vampire in the building right now?” She looked to the left and right of her.

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” Gretchen rolled her eyes. “How could a vampire get inside Slayer Academy?”

  “Look!” Max pointed outside. “They’re trying to catch it.”

  “Here, Hayduke,” Cassandra crooned, holding out her hand, palm down. “Remember me? I’m Kyle’s friend?”

  “Who’s Kyle?” I asked.

  “Her ex-boyfriend,” said Leah.

  “Dukey, Dukey, Dukey,” Van called in a singsong voice. “What’s going on?”

  “Maybe he senses something paranormal.” Max took off his baseball cap and stared at the brim. “I got splashed with holy water a few days ago. Maybe it leaves a chemtrail.”

  “Can savannah cats do that?” I tugged my collar. “Sense the paranormal?”

  “I don’t know about all savannah cats,” said Kellogg. “But Dukey can.”

  The cat’s golden eyes stared right at me, even as Cassandra attempted to lure him away. Van took out his phone and called someone.

  “Do you remember Lex Gable? That celebrity businessman from Florida with the fake tan who was murdered five years ago at his hotel?” Leah asked.

  I nodded, my eyes not looking away from the savannah. “Lex Gamble was orange-colored, like a Cheeto. What does he have to do with anything?”

  “He wasn’t murdered, he was slain.” Kellogg tapped on the glass. “This savannah led Natalie and Jared right to him.”

  “Wow.” I widened my stance and curled my fists as my staring contest with Hayduke continued. The cat hissed at me and snarled.

  “Dukey!” A middle-aged woman charged through the yard full throttle, barefoot but wearing slacks. “Come to Mama!”

  “That’s Susan Taylor,” said Max. “She’s Lucas Siban’s wife. He’s a Puritan, but she’s human. Hayduke despises paranormal creatures, but he’s completely okay with every true Puritan vampire he’s ever encountered. It’s one of the ways we know they’re staying sober.”

  “That sounds handy.” I crossed my fingers as Susan approached the savannah and attempted to pick him up. At first, the cat snarled, but then when he realized who she was, he allowed her to touch him. Susan offered Hayduke a treat and he ate it delicately from her hand. She wrapped her arms around him and carried the massive cat away from the house.

  “Weird.” Max looked at his baseball cap one more time. “I better wash this thing, just in case.”

  “Good idea.” I gulped.

  As for me, I needed to stay as far away from that hellcat as possible.

  Chapter 15

  I felt like shit. There was no other way to say it. I wanted to find a place where I belonged, and for a couple of days at least, I thought that I had. But if the neighbor’s cat saw through me, then how could I expect Natalie to offer me an official spot at Slayer Academy? As much as I wanted to slay vampires, I was part of the paranormal universe. If Hayduke could sense that, it was only a matter of time before the Xanders and Helsing Incorporated figured it out too.

  As soon as our afternoon lesson on silver-plating basic objects finished up, I snuck into the wine cellar and swiped a bottle of holy water. When I got to my room, I dripped a drop on my arm to see if I would sizzle. Thankfully, nothing happened. Hayduke might have known I was a paranormal creature, but the holy water thought I was A-okay. I stashed the bottle in my backpack as a souvenir and continued packing. I wanted to be prepared for when Natalie asked me to leave. One thing I learned from foster care is to always be ready to go.

  “I guess you’ve made your decision then.” Gretchen walked into the room with a towel twisted around her head like a turban. She’d once again managed to secure the premium spot on the shower schedule. “Too bad you’re leaving. I liked you.” Gretchen reached into her messy dresser and pulled out socks. “You’re much more human than Cassandra.”

  “Human? Um… What do you mean?”

  “Cassandra’s such a machine. She lives and breathes slaying. If it weren’t for her taking classes at UCSD, I’d never get any peace and quiet.” Gretchen flopped on her bed. “But if you’re not staying, I guess she’ll move back in with me.”

  “Who said I’m not staying? Did Natalie say that? Is it official?” I put my head in my hands and tried to remain calm. I took deep breaths, but my heart pounded hard.

  “You’re packing, aren’t you?” Gretchen cleaned her ear with a swab. “I thought you were crazy for wanting to come here in the first place.”

  “Of course I want to be here,” I said, gulping air. “A vampire killed my mother. I want justice.” The delicious aroma of spaghetti sauce wafted through the air. “The home-cooked meals aren’t bad, either.” I picked at the zipper on my backpack. “And you were going to teach me to drive.”

  “I can still teach you to drive.” Gretchen dumped her ear swab in the trash. “Look, when I’m not trapped in slayer-hell, I have a part-time job at Food Without a Face. You know, the smoothie place down by Whole Foods?”

  “I’ve seen i
t.” It was way too expensive for me, but I didn’t mention that.

  “Natalie lets me borrow a car to drive to work. One day I’ll swing by campus and give you a driving lesson, okay?”

  “Really? Why are you being so nice to me?”

  “Did you or did you not cheer for me all the way up Mt. Soledad Road yesterday when I felt like I was going to die?”

  “I couldn’t leave you behind. Slayers work in pairs.”

  Gretchen slathered on hand lotion. “But you did it in a kind way, without mocking me. Cassandra always yelled at me to move my ‘lazy ass.’”

  “She’s a tough one, all right.” I didn’t want to excuse Cassandra’s mean-girl ways, but I didn’t want to badmouth her, either.

  “I don’t think Cassandra and I will ever get along.” Gretchen wrinkled her nose. “Anyhow, Kate, no matter what happens with you and Slayer Academy, I think you’re going to be all right. I can tell that about you.”

  “Resilience is my strong suit,” I said. “At least that was what my coach used to say.”

  “Nobody ever says that about me.” Gretchen flopped down on her bed. “I’m more known for complaining.” A sharp knock at the door made Gretchen pull her bathrobe tighter.

  “Who is it?” I asked.

  “It’s Van,” said the voice on the other side of the door. “My mom wants you to come down to her office in three minutes.”

  I looked at my backpack and sighed. “Be right there.”

  “Good luck,” said Gretchen. “It’s fine if you’re not accepted.”

  “Thanks.” I brought my things with me downstairs and dropped them by the front door. Squaring my shoulders, I walked up to Natalie’s office and knocked on the closed door. “Come in,” she said a moment later.