'Not particularly clean or skilful.' He adds, casting his eye for the next couple. 'Green, Dregdan, take your place.' He orders, beckoning Tanya and her Mentor, James, forward.
They, too, separate themselves by about ten feet, but Tanya decides to attack James head on, crouching on the floor and springing – like a big cat – before gripping the suspended hanging bars on the ceiling. She drops instantly, landing on James' shoulders, realising her mistake at the same time I do.
She too has used too much force, forgetting that her target is a weak, fragile human. Whereas James remains firmly rooted, a human would crumble at the knees, hitting the ground like a sack of potatoes.
Tanya climbs down from James' shoulders and holds her hands up in surrender when Alexandrov opens his mouth to speak.
'I know, he would have splattered.' She sighs with resignation.
'Not only that, but being on Dregdan's shoulders isn't the best angle to access his jugular vein.' Alexandrov adds. He dismisses them and I shudder as his eyes fall on me. 'Ryder, Carey.' He nods..
Tia barely looks at me as we step to the centre of the room. She positions herself and I follow her obediently, remaining a few paces behind. Alexandrov folds his arms and raises an expectant eyebrow.
I remember his words; swift and clean. I remember Tomos and Tanya's mistakes – mustn't let her splatter.
I study Tia's slight frame, her sharp pointed elbows, her jutted narrow hips. If she were human, she'd break without much force at all. I doubt, in fact, if I would choose her to attack rather than wait for her to fall of her own clumsy accord.
I decide that an attack from behind will best serve my purpose; it minimalises shock and fear and heightens the possibility of a smooth, clean kill. I take a step forward to gain my balance, and poise to sprint, spreading my legs wide and stretching my forearms. But the sudden opening of the heavy hall doors throws my concentration and I lose my footing, stumbling a fraction before straightening, just in time to freeze in horror as Sir Alec strides confidently into the room.
Tia turns abruptly to me, throwing me a petrified glance. Her eyes are bright with fear as we wait for Sir Alec to beckon me forward.
He pauses, his eyes steely as they sweep the silent room; some students smile confidently in recognition, others bow their heads, avoiding eye-contact. I dither over which approach to take as the grey irises come to rest on mine, the ball of green fire flaring ferociously in the depths of his pupils.
I neither smile nor bow my head as I stubbornly return Sir Alec's glare, watching him slide his folded arms into the creases of his dark coat.
Alexandrov hesitates, not sure whether to proceed with or halt his lesson. Sir Alec waves a dismissive hand, allowing Alexandrov to continue as all eyes return to mine and Tia's staged attack.
Tia trembles silently, her bony knees quivering as she attempts to hide her fear. I take a deep breath, expanding my lungs, and I try to ignore Sir Alec's unwelcome presence. I narrow my vision, focussing solely on the back of Tia's head, play-by-playing my attack in my mind's eye.
Once more, I bend my knees; parting my legs, readying my body for my swift and strong movements. The atmosphere is charged with hostility and excitement as each student's eyes flicker curiously from Sir Alec to myself. Not one of them missed my costly mistake with Lorna Gray and they're eager to witness the consequences.
Tia doesn't flinch as she hears my quick, light footsteps; her shoulders remain broad, her posture poised – ready. I judge my distance – two feet – before springing from the floor, stretching my legs to curl around her waist. Her knees buckle beneath me – I am stronger than her – and she attempts to remain on her feet, but the impact of my body combined with my weight is too much for her and she topples, plummeting towards the ground.
I shoot my right arm out as she descends, shielding her face from the floor, cushioning the blow with my forearm. With Tia immobilised beneath my legs, I straddle her, pressing my torso against her back; forcing her to lie still beneath my weight. I breathe gently on the side of her neck as she lies silent, her cheek pressed against my arm in submission. I shift my weight from on top of her, standing with ease and extending my hand.
She takes it graciously and allows me to pull her up, flashing me a proud grin, keeping my fingers entwined with hers. I turn to face Alexandrov – whose mouth is gaping open – and feel a sense of achievement swell in my chest.
Not since my mother has anyone looked at me that way; eyes shining with wonder, mouth beaming with pride.
'Ryder, you're a natural!' Alexandrov exclaims with genuine surprise and I smile politely, not sure if I feel pleased or insulted at the news I'm a born killer. I cast a nervous glance at my classmates' faces; some beam and flash me thumbs up, others purse their lips in envy and irritation. Logan Marshall looks set to explode as Alexandrov claps his hands and for a moment, I forget all about Sir Alec.
That is, until my eyes meet his.
I shrink back inside myself, my momentary elation dissipating as Sir Alec glares; arms folded, stance aggressive. My gaze wavers as I notice an unfamiliar expression settling on the headmaster's features. A combination of bemusement, shock and possibly... admiration?
His eyebrows knit in confusion as he studies me, the green blaze amidst his pupils fading to a dull spark as he rubs his chin thoughtfully.
I turn my face away from him as Tia and I re-join the group, but his unmistakeable, penetrating stare continues to pierce my back, sending chills along my spine. The room is silent as Alexandrov, Katarzyna and my fellow students await Sir Alec's reaction anxiously.
I detect a sense of disappointment in some of my classmates – particularly Logan Marshall – as Sir Alec remains still, his lips firmly pursed. He seems to be hesitating, deliberating something.
Alexandrov shifts impatiently, tapping his foot a beat and succeeding in snapping Sir Alec out of his trance-like state. He shakes his head once to clear it, before giving me one last puzzled glance as he turns and strides purposefully from the room.
I stare after him, open-mouthed, as Tia tugs on my arm forcefully.
'He's gone!' She exclaims in a loud whisper as the rest of the class breathes a sigh of either relief or disappointment, depending on how much they like me.
I wait – frozen – for Sir Alec to return; wait to hear his quick footsteps, the swishing of his long coat. But the hall remains silent until the students begin to move.
'It's a trick,' I murmur in Tia's ear as Alexandrov relaxes, congratulating the class on a brilliant lesson. 'He won't let me get away with what happened. You know it and I know it. He's lulling me into a false sense of security.'
'Why would he do that?' Tia wrinkles her nose, frowning.
'I don't know, because he's sick?' I shrug, never once taking my eyes from the hall doors.
'Did you see the way he looked at you?' Tia mutters, a hint of jealousy barely hidden in her tone.
'Like he was Simon Cowell and you were a topless soprano singer.' Richard's familiar Glaswegian lilt interrupts as he slings an arm around Tia's shoulders.
'Shut up, Richard. I could have held you, you know,' Tia turns to me with a shrug, her tone blasé. 'I just thought it would be cool to show the class what it would really look like, you know, if a human went down.'
Richard and I exchange subtle glances and try not to laugh.
'Of course you could, flower. We don't doubt it.' Richard assures her, his tone just a little too sarcastic.
*
'Double Practical, why?!' Tia whines as we head out for afternoon break, me trailing behind Richard and Tia, my thoughts distracted by Sir Alec's strange reaction. The courtyard is empty, the frost thick as we perch on the stone bench beside the stream.
'Everyone loves Practical.' Richard states, kissing Tia's cheek and pulling her onto his lap. It's bright and sunny for a cold November day. The sky gleams brilliant white, the sun a blinding orb behind a sheet of thin cloud. The narrow stream's surface is frozen solid, the resident du
cks vanished and the tall willow tree hangs lifelessly, its long branches drooping sadly across the thin ice.
'I wonder if he'll wait and pounce on you when you least expect it.' Tia muses, dragging her pixie boots through the frozen dew, distracting me from my observation of nature and pushing Sir Alec back to the forefront of my thoughts.
'Thanks, Tia.' I smile sarcastically, fishing a cigarette from my pocket and lighting it, deliberately blowing smoke in Tia's direction. She takes a smart step backwards.
'No-one's seen Lorna Gray since that night, you know.' She shrugs, a glimmer in her amber eyes as she waves toxins out of the air.
'No-one ever sees her, you fruitcake.' Richard replies, winding a strand of Tia's short, dark hair around his forefinger. It's times like this I miss the company of Meredith; even with all her morose brooding and distant longing of Malachy Beighley, at least I don't have to play gooseberry with her around.
Tia seems to have gotten over her fears – safe in the knowledge that it's my blood Sir Alec wants. I am the star culprit, public enemy number one; I must be dealt with behind the closed doors of Sir Alec's eerie study.
The headmaster knows how to play the game, how to unsettle someone. Ensure that they're never relaxed, always tense and anticipating his next move.
To summon me in Practical when I most expected it, that would have been too easy; he wants to make me wait – to keep me glancing over my shoulder, to turn me into a nervous wreck before he finally deals the blow.
With a heavy heart and racing mind, I force myself back into the Practical hall, guarded closely on either side by Tia and Richard, who have released each other long enough to sense my unease. We're early and the students trickle through the doors as we wait patiently for the hall to fill. Students stare as they pass me, averting their eyes when Tia shoots them a menacing glare, keeping a protective arm around my waist.
'Eve?' An unfamiliar voice sounds over my shoulder and I turn to see a girl I vaguely recognise standing beside Richard, her short, dark hair falling across her eyes. She's a first year, a friend of Tomos', she always sits at the back of class, laughing and joking with a select few girls and never paying attention to the lesson.
She has a striking appearance with large blue eyes, a very lean build and a full pink mouth. She stares at me with an expression of awe and respect.
'Your attack on Tia was awesome.' She grins, showing off an alarmingly deep voice as I wrack my brains to remember her name.
'Thank you...'
'Max!' Another first year – whose name I know to be Rhys – interrupts my awkward reply, addressing the skinny girl and nodding his head authoritatively. 'Let's go to the back.' He gestures to the furthest corner of the hall but the girl, Max, shakes her head dismissively.
'I'm good here.' She replies in her Californian accent, beckoning to her beefy third year Mentor.
'Michael!' She calls, waving her arm as the tall boy raises his eyebrows in recognition, beginning a slow, sauntering journey in our direction.
'He thinks he's hot shit,' Max mutters in my ear as Michael smiles lopsidedly at Cheryl Berry in passing. 'I don't have the heart to tell him I'm not into guys. I think it would crush his inflated ego to the ground.' She sniggers, straightening as Michael reaches us and giving him a friendly pat on the back.
'You don't mind if we stand next to you?' She asks me, raising an eyebrow as I shrug. 'Might learn something for once.' She punches Michael playfully on his arm as Alexandrov finally enters the hall, carrying in his hands something worthy of silence. Katarzyna follows him, clutching the other end of a large white screen, wheeling it slowly through the hall doors. Like a giant whiteboard; the screen is shiny and opaque, stretching the width of the room, partitioning it into two halves.
It blocks our view of the small exit door opposite the main entrance, and Alexandrov and Katarzyna leave a three foot gap between the screen and the wall to allow us to travel between the two halves of the room.
Even the third years – who are perfectly used to Alexandrov's bizarre teaching methods – appear confused and a little worried as he claps his hands together, his scarred face excited.
'Today, class, you have been blessed with a privilege other Institutes can only dream of,' He booms, rubbing his palms together with glee. I glance at Tia who shrugs – as baffled as I am – whilst others hiss and whisper, excitement rippling through the crowd. 'A new method of learning, never before attempted within these walls. It will be invaluable to your education and will greatly benefit you in your future endeavours.'
'What is this? I don't remember doing this in first year...' Richard mutters under his breath.
'However!' Alexandrov raises his forefinger, commanding our attention as his eyes narrow. 'This practice is controversial, especially as half of you are so premature in your development. But I believe the best approach to education is a practical one; you must be tested and pushed to your boundaries in order to find them. Pushed to the limit to realise your strengths and weaknesses and above all; challenge your minds to believe in the unbelievable.' Alexandrov's eyes sparkle as he glares at each of us in turn, gauging our reactions. Tia shifts uncomfortably from one foot to the other, clasping Richard's hand tightly.
'This method has never been practised at the Institute before and – due to its nature – Sir Alec will be overseeing our lesson. It will allow him to make a sensible and well-informed decision on whether or not to continue this practice, and to study its effectiveness.'
Sir Alec strides, head held high, through the open doors as a young, blonde woman scurries behind him, eager to keep up. She rushes to the stack of empty chairs beside the wall and wrenches two out, setting them down side by side before Alexandrov. Sir Alec takes the one on the left, crossing his legs and resting his chin atop the palm of his hand.
A loud murmur begins amongst the anxious crowd as another figure – dressed in black – saunters through the entrance, taking the empty seat beside Sir Alec. Her pale eyes dart cautiously around the crowded room before settling briefly, with a smirk, on mine.
Lorna Gray leans back in her plastic chair, folding her arms across her chest and twisting away from Sir Alec. Despite her amusement at me and obvious resentment towards Sir Alec, beneath her stubborn demeanour she is distressed, her eyes anxious – haunted.
'What the hell is she doing here?' Tia hisses, her confusion fusing with her anxiety as she glares steadily at Lorna.
'I have a bad feeling about this.' Richard mumbles, the statement for mine and Tia's ears only.
'Why?' I frown, glancing at Richard's sombre face, his forehead wrinkled with worry lines.
'Well, she knows why she's here,' He nods in Lorna Gray's direction. 'Look how terrified she is.'
Alexandrov closes the heavy oak doors and strides across the room, throwing a quick glance at Sir Alec which is met with a nod of approval. The burly Russian man squeezes through the three foot gap at the screen's edge, disappearing from view behind the shimmering white plastic.
'Please move between the gap.' Katarzyna barks as she ushers us to press our backs against the wall. We huddle in the narrow space, noting that Alexandrov has disappeared through the small back door. From our position in the gap we are able to see both sides of the hall, the partitioning screen in the middle, Sir Alec and Lorna to our left – unable to view the second half of the room.
Once we're all in our place, Katarzyna follows Alexandrov, slipping quietly through the door as we wait patiently for their return. Lorna Gray avoids eye contact, keeping her head firmly bowed, one hand shields her eyes as though from an unpleasant sight.
'I don't like this,' Tia mumbles, shuffling her feet uncomfortably. 'I don't like this at all.'
Richard's grip on Tia's shoulder tightens as a strange yet familiar noise reaches our delicate ears. Every head lurches right to stare at the back door. We hear them before we see them; a low murmur of voices, afraid, some hysterical. We smell them; the scent of so many overwhelming, their sweet, exotic fumes s
etting my veins on fire and making my head spin. Tia clutches my arm for support and I grip her tightly in return, steadying the both of us.
Since my transformation, I've known little to no pain. Couldn't even recall a distant memory of the sensation – but now, I am awash with it. My throat burns like fire, my chest jerks and aches with a desire so intense it makes my knees buckle. Stronger than any withdrawal symptom, stronger than any heartbreak, I grit my teeth together just to stop myself from running.
Catching sight of them only intensifies the hunger. My gaze latches itself onto their thick, throbbing veins beneath paper thin skin, the blood pumping steadily through their arteries.
It's not like the instance with Lorna at the ball. One human – though tempting – is easy to resist, a flock of them being herded in my direction – not so much.
They stumble their way across the hall, hands tied at the waist, eyes wide and panicked. They stare fearfully at our group of forty, darting, desperate – like mice in a snake pit. Some are hysterical; crying and shrieking, others appear bizarrely calm and blasé, strolling confidently past us as though on their way to work, oblivious to the upset of their peers.
The Gray Institute (The Gray Institute Trilogy Book 1) Page 15
