Since the end of the war, life at Windham had changed, for better or worse. Gone were most of Mike’s magic classes. He had discarded everything but Telekinesis and Pyrokinesis, unfortunately replacing them with wonderfully boring subjects such as Math, Bio, and English. He almost wished for earlier times, although he had fifty seven reminders on the front lawn to help him quickly discard that notion.
Sepulchra had moved into Windham full time, which was both endearing and terribly restricting. Like the time she found Mike and a couple friends sending in magically-motorized stinkbombs into the girls’ wing, or when Mike missed curfew after the Guardians were allowed to borrow the cars and head into town for a Friday evening… or like when Mike slept through a test in English because he had stayed up the previous night, talking with Steph on the roof while enjoying the aerial show put on by Jakkus and the crew. That one she had given him the most grief for, which was a little odd, but also slightly comforting in an I’m-your-mom-and-I-care-about-your-grades kind of way.
Steph took a week away from everything, in a vacation spot that she wouldn’t reveal to Mike. Which was fine by him, considering she had endured the craziest month of anybody in Windham, being a triple agent and funneling information to many interested parties, all the while retracing her steps to ensure no one would catch her. That, plus the death of her father, and Mike figured she had earned at least a week off. Or a year.
The two of them spent a lot of time together in the weeks that followed, but things were nowhere near the point where Mike would have to make a decision between her and Laura. Which was good, because as of now, Mike still had no idea what he wanted. He was spending more time with Steph, that was true, but Laura had visited Windham three times since the battle, as emissary for the Slayers, and Mike had basically hung out with her the entire time. Stockton had said something like, “To hell with the other clans,” in terms of an alliance with the Slayers, and seeing as the Slayers were probably the ones who’d saved the Skyfire clan in the first place, Mike was all too happy to agree with the new Headmage about his new foreign affairs policy.
Steph did tell Mike that her father had married Cassandra two years after Steph’s birth. Steph didn’t know much about her real mother – apparently she died soon after Steph was born – but she did know that the Headmage was initially unaware that Cassandra was a Slayer. After finding this out, Garzan had divorced Cassandra, for fear of the other clans’ wrath. This led to even more animosity when Cassandra was elected queen, and it might have been the reason Cassandra sided with Dementae upon his return.
There was no news about Aaron Caulderon from any of Stockton’s sources, which was more than a little unsettling. Mike was still upset how one of his friends – probably his best friend for the two weeks he was at Windham – was really a spy. He was even more frustrated about how good a spy he’d been – endearing himself to Mike, avoiding all the security measures at Windham, even fooling Garzan when he’d used the Ubiquitor on him (Mike had no idea how Aaron did that, that was insane)… Stockton said it was only a matter of time before something turned up, and when it did, the Skyfire clan would exact revenge for the deaths of its family members, which were very much tied to Aaron’s spying.
That didn’t make Mike feel any better; he wasn’t sure he wanted to kill Aaron, even after he’d murdered Jason Minor in cold blood. Especially because it felt like there was more to his story. He’d clearly been working for someone other than Dementae; that much was obvious from what he’d said in the Chateau de Vincennes dungeon. Who was he working for? Was he also a triple agent, like Steph, working the Guardians and Brethren for someone else? That thought, plus the fact that the Book of Lineage was still missing, made Mike want to solve that mystery sooner rather than later.
And so the month was a slow one, right up until Mike received the note in his hands the previous night. He took one more look at the note, another look at the clock, and decided it was time.
When he arrived at the Greeting Hall, it was deserted. Windham was quiet nowadays, even more so at this time of night, a stark departure from when there were over a hundred teens roaming its halls. Now with thirty-some-odd kids in the school… the place just felt empty.
A noise from the girls’ staircase made Mike turn his head.
And so it begins, Mike thought to himself grimly. When Stockton finds out about this, he’s going to kill me.
Annabella headed down the steps, dressed in khakis and a white tank-top. She was carrying a large backpack, like the ones used for camping. Her hair was pulled into a pony, and there was a slight hint of makeup on her cheeks.
But what Mike really noticed was the necklace around her neck.
It was the Amp that Mike had stolen from Garzan’s office a few hours ago.
Please, Mike thought. If you’re watching this from above… know that I only have good intentions here.
Annabella approached him with a gleam in her eye. “Thank you for doing this, Mike.”
Mike felt himself blush slightly. The two of them had grown pretty close over the past month, but not in an attraction sort of way. They’d been through the entire war together, and, well, it was just easier to share thoughts and comforts with Annabella than, say, JB.
“You know Stockton’s going to kill me, right.”
Annabella shook her head. “I don’t think he will.”
“You clearly don’t know the guy.”
Annabella laughed softly. “Then I owe you even more.” She pecked Mike on the cheek.
Mike smelled her perfume as she pulled away. He felt his skin burn. “Don’t tell him about that little kiss when you find him, okay?”
Annabella laughed again. “I won’t, don’t worry.”
She was pretty when she laughed, Mike decided. In a not-attractive sort of way. Maybe the way Mike would’ve looked at his sister, if he’d had one.
The two Guardians walked in silence out of the manor and into the August night, which was humid but breezy. There were no gargoyles wrestling on the front lawn, nobody swooping around above the Manor. Which was just as well. The gargoyles rarely played with each other these days.
They walked around to the back and into the open garage. Annabella grabbed a set of keys off the wall and headed over to one of the small convertibles.
She tossed her pack in the back seat, and the two Guardians embraced.
“You know you might not like what you find,” Mike warned as he let her go.
Annabella nodded at the ground. “I know. But I have to go. I have to find him.”
“He might not even be out there.”
Annabella nodded again, but didn’t say anything. She rubbed the bottom of her eye.
“But if he is,” Mike said quickly, “Then tell him to get the hell back to Windham. On the double. Even if he is a vampire.” The last word hung between them like a fly caught in a spider’s web. “We’ll fix him, if that’s the case. There’s got to be a way.”
Annabella smiled through silent tears. “Thank you, Mike. You’re a good friend. Zachariah and I are lucky to have you.”
Then she got into the car and turned the ignition. She gave Mike one more smile, and then pulled out of the garage.
Mike watched her go, arms crossed, a hopeful smile creeping into the corner of his mouth. And as she peeled around the corner and out of sight, Mike got the profound sense that the changes to the Guardian lineage had only begun to take effect.
About the Author
Growing up with a strange combination of Clancy, Crichton, Tolkien, and Rowling probably gave birth to Seth Z. Herman’s YA/fantasy/thriller style of writing. Seth hails from Queens, New York, where he grew up as an (admittedly sheltered) Orthodox Jew. A lifetime of experiences later, he now lives in Jerusalem with his wife and two children, where he poses as a rabbi teaching Judaic studies at an American post-high-school seminary.
Don’t miss Bestselling Author Wendy Knight
Chapter One
Park City, Utah, Present Day
Arianna Delacour thunked her black duffle bag at the foot of her bed, wondering if she should even bother unpacking. This was her sixteenth boarding school. Sixteen in nine years, but there would have been more if she hadn’t been home schooled until third grade. That was when the Family started sending her out to hunt.
Wrong life. She shoved the thought away, jumping to a safer one. She had to focus on this life now. She was about to start her senior year, and she wanted to graduate. So, quieting the flames running through her blood, she started unpacking.
“Who are you?” a high pitched voice demanded behind her.
Ari didn’t turn to investigate. “I’m Ari. Who are you?”
“This is my room,” the voice said.
Ari thought it over, decided there was nothing to respond to, and continued unpacking.
“I said, this is my room.” The voice grated on Ari’s ears and made her teeth ache. Sighing, Ari stood up, shoving her long black braid over her shoulder as she turned. A much shorter, somewhat round blonde girl stood in the doorway with her hand on her hip, green eyes glowering back at her.
“Apparently, it’s also my room. If that’s going to be a problem, you should take it up with the headmistress.” Ari’s dark brown eyes clashed with the girl’s green gaze. The girl’s lips tightened as she gave Ari a slow once over. Ari folded her arms and glared back. Finally, the blonde gave up, shaking her hair away from her face.
“I’m Brittany.” She dropped her hand from her hip and pushed her way into the room. She threw herself down on her unmade bed and scowled at Ari.
“Hey.” Ari turned back to her unpacking. Brittany stayed on her bed, filing her nails and watching, until it was obvious that Ari wasn’t going to attempt to socialize. With a huff, she got up and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Ari smirked.
This school had uniforms, which was nice. They saved her the time and effort of trying to decide what to wear that would make her stand out the least. But she was five foot ten for one thing, when most girls her age were closer to five foot four, and for another thing, her long black hair had dark red streaks running through it — streaks that were natural yet looked anything but. Between the two, and the fact that she was always the new kid, fading into the background was impossible.
She put her clothes away and stuffed her bag under her bed. Satisfied, she stood back with her hands on her hips and blew a stray hair out of her face, surveying the room. The bed against the right wall was covered in a sparkly pink bedspread and a dozen shiny pillows thrown all over. Ari winced away from it, afraid it might attack her with rhinestones and glitter.
Inching around the chaos across the room, she flopped on her safe bed with its crisp white sheets and a gray blanket. With a grunt, she rolled over. School started in two days. Another first day at a new school. But on the bright side, she thought, studying the yellow walls next to her head, it’s a lot of other people’s first day too. Not a lot of seniors, but she’d take what she could get.
Ari closed her eyes, fighting the headache coming on. But the second she did, her thoughts raced to her other life. The life she tried so hard to banish from her thoughts. She never succeeded.
Her grandfather didn’t see the point in school at all. Ari was a warrior. What did she need school for? It was Ari’s mother, Vivian, in her passive aggressive way, who suggested sending Ari to school. It was Vivian’s secret hope that Ari might have something of a normal life. She got around the whole grandfather-saying-school-is-pointless-thing by telling him there was no better way to hunt the Carules than in schools, where they were young and untrained.
Carules. Ari gritted her teeth at the word. She was an Edren, a red-flame-throwing sorceress. Carules were her people’s ancient enemies. She threw red spells. They threw blue. And that was why she hunted them.
In a compromise between her mother and her grandfather that Ari had had no say in whatsoever, she was sent to boarding school after boarding school, where she attempted to fit in with Normals, or regular humans with no magic. Her mother sent her there to try to let her be a regular teenager. Her grandfather sent her there to hunt, and then he would pull her out and stick her somewhere else as soon as she found any trace of Carules magic… and eliminated it.
Ari must have dozed off sometime during her battle to not think, because the next thing she knew the door was slamming against the wall, jerking her out of sleep. Her eyes flew open as Brittany strode through. “I need someone tall,” she announced, stopping at Ari’s side.
Ari frowned in confusion. Maybe she’d been more soundly asleep than she’d thought, but it felt like she’d come into the conversation when it was half over. “Good?” she answered slowly, lowering her brows and trying to focus her bleary eyes on her new roommate.
“Ugh! Fine.” Brittany flipped her thick blonde waves over her shoulder. “I told Shane that I would decorate the auditorium for the whole welcome back ball thing.” Her hand floated through the air dismissively. Ari rubbed her forehead, trying to follow. “And none of us are tall enough to reach the top of the door, even with the ladder. And I thought to myself, ‘who do I know who’s tall?’ and—” Brittany gave a dramatic pause and snapped her fingers — “I thought of you.”
Ari gave a snort and sat up, stretching. “Lucky me. No offense, but I’ll pass.”
“What?” Brittany snatched up Ari’s arm. Ari’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.
“Dramatic much?” She freed her arm none too gently from Brittany’s sweaty fingers. “I have no desire to spend my first afternoon here showing my school spirit—” Ari waved her hands around her head like she had pompoms “—by getting tangled in crepe paper and giving myself a headache blowing up cheesy balloons.”
Brittany leaned her face as close to Ari’s as she could, given the height difference, desperation clear in her wide eyes. Ari could see the makeup lines along her jaw, something she could have done without, and resisted the urge to tell Brittany that her foundation was just a tad too dark. “Okay, look. You don’t understand. I told Shane I would do this a week ago. The ball is tonight. If I don’t get it done it will blow all my chances with him, and I am this close—” she held up two fingers close together “—to him asking me out.”
“And I care about this why?” Ari raised a dark eyebrow and smothered a yawn.
“Ugh! I’ve only been in love with him for four years now!” Brittany exclaimed, flopping back on her still-unmade bed. Ari waited for a dust cloud of sparkles to poof into the air, but it didn’t happen. “Every girl in school is in love with him. And he chose me to decorate. It’s his way of telling me he likes me.”
Ari rolled her eyes. “Again, why do I care?”
“Let me tell you about my Shane. He is gorgeous. Probably not your type.” Brittany waved her hand. Ari frowned. “He’s got this wavy black hair that I will soon be running my fingers through. And his eyes!” Still lying on her back, Brittany exclaimed to the ceiling, “He’s got amazing blue eyes. And he is…” She snickered. Ari sighed and studied her nails, waiting for the point. “Well, let’s just say he is in very good shape.”
“Forgive me for sounding like I’m stuck on repeat, but I. Don’t. Care.”
Brittany sat up, leaned forward, and put her elbows on her knees, her face a perfect mask of seriousness. Ari fought the urge to laugh. “Do you want to start the school year knowing no one?”
Ari opened her mouth to tell Brittany she didn’t care if she did. She had a rule about making friends — she didn’t do it. Fourteen schools ago, she learned that girls were mean. They were your friend while they needed you, and only to your face. Behind your back they were whispering and plotting. And when they didn’t need you anymore, they turned on you. And boys were even worse.
Besides that, she hated listening to them complain about their petty problems while she had been hunted her entire life. She hated listening to them whine about a lame date over the weekend when she had spent her weekend killing Carules in some
nasty battle or another. Carules who might be her enemy, but who also might have families and homes.
Despite all of that, somehow, somewhere deep, deep down where Ari couldn’t squash it, was a bit of hope that she would find a friend. Life alone was a miserable existence. No matter how many times she told herself it was stupid, especially since so much of her life was a secret that could get her killed, her heart still leaped at the chance. And she always got hurt, because girls were mean and boys were worse.
“No,” Ari snapped, jumping up and heading for the door, inner battle waged and won.
Brittany grabbed her arm again and Ari stopped, turning around. “Pleeeeaaase?” Brittany pleaded, her green eyes filling with tears.
And so Ari found herself standing on the top rung of a high ladder, tangled in crepe paper. She growled as she blew a stray piece of dark hair away from her face, only to watch in frustration as it fluttered back and landed on her nose, making it itch. Her hands twitched with the need to blast the whole cheesy mess with red flames — she could even picture the spell she’d use in her head, but she resisted. No magic, or she’d be found out and her grandfather would have her transferred again.
Ari glanced around the room, finding the door, her gaze locking on it with a yearning to escape. She could just climb down this ladder and leave… except that was easier said than done. More so than most of her other schools, this campus was massively confusing to negotiate. It was set up so that the main building — a large, square, three-story of red brick — was in the middle of four two-story dorms running parallel on each side, with nicely landscaped expanses of lawn between and manicured walkways connecting it all.
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