by J. J. Bonds
Anya cracks the door doing her best to protect my privacy, but her guest towers over her, and I can easily see it’s Nikolai in the hall. They whisper briefly about dinner and she sends him away. Curious. What’s he doing here? Maybe I’m not the only one with a special schedule. Then again, the apparent familiarity between them is not typical of a student-teacher relationship.
“Sorry about that,” Anya apologizes, returning to her desk. “My brother. He didn’t realize I had a session this evening. We often dine together,” she offers by way of explanation. “There shouldn’t be any more interruptions though. Now where were we?”
“Nikolai is your brother?” It’s difficult to keep the shock out of my voice. I didn’t see that coming. But, maybe I should have. Petrov. Petrova. Masculine. Feminine. Plus, they both have the same Russian accent and enchanting blue eyes.
“You’ve met?”
“Briefly. He’s the teaching assistant in my MMA class,” I tell her, omitting the truth of our actual first meeting. No need to borrow trouble.
“Then I’ll tell you what I tell Nikolai. The sky is the limit for you. You can be and do anything in this world that you choose. Our kind has risen to amazing heights within our own society and among the humans. Doctors, lawyers, music producers, actors, architects. Find something you love, something you’re passionate about. That’s what Crossroads is about.”
Her message sounds like a bad Family Channel special, but I know she’s right. While vampires excel in careers that permit a nocturnal schedule, I’ve heard stories of vampires permeating all walks of life on the outside.
I tune out for the remainder of our session giving Anya pat answers that are vague at best. I’m distracted by thoughts of Nikolai and Anya’s relationship. Talk about a small world. At least now I know how she heard about my performance in the MMA class so quickly.
This revelation reminds me what a tangled and incestuous species we truly are. Sure we’ve grown in number, but our fates are tightly bound, especially those of us in close proximity to power. I must remain vigilant. My secrets are my own, and by their very nature I know that exposing them will bring great penalty. There are some things even Aldo can’t protect me from.
Chapter Five
The universe has a dark sense of humor. It’s Friday afternoon, and I’m sitting in Sociology minding my own business when Nikolai, Jade, and Lexie traipse in. Apparently this is one of the few subjects where I don’t rate a beginners’ course. Lucky me. And, as fate would have it, they are the last to arrive, meaning that they fill in the empty seats surrounding me. So much for the benefits of getting to class early.
“Hey Katia,” Lexie trills sliding into the seat next to me. Nikolai flashes me his ‘I know I’m irresistible’ smile and takes the seat behind me. Jade ignores my presence all together which is fine by me. It seems I can’t escape this trio.
Professor Lynch doesn’t waste any time getting down to business. He passes around the course outline and begins to lecture immediately.
“What is morality?” he asks, eyeing the class. It’s clear the question is not rhetorical and that an answer is expected.
Someone to my left calls out, “Right vs. wrong?”
“That’s it? What about the rest of you?” Lynch pushes, unsatisfied with this trite answer.
“Morality has historically been considered a human concept. It refers to personal and cultural values that differentiate between right and wrong within society.”
It’s Nikolai who’s speaking now. I’m shocked he knows anything about morality. I wouldn’t think moral code ranks very high on the priority list in his social circle.
“It’s not quite that simple,” I counter. “Morality is subjective. What is moral to one society may not be so in another. There are countless examples of groups throughout the ages who have justified reprehensible actions using the moral imperative.”
“Ahh! Interesting point, Miss?”
“Lescinka.”
“Let’s run with that for a minute,” Lynch says, eyes fixed on me. Lynch is the consummate academic. He’s dressed in a boring gray suit with a mustard yellow tie and wears his hair in a comb-over style. If he weren’t a vampire, I’m certain he’d be in need of glasses. And a pocket protector. “We do not feed freely on humans. While it is not expressly forbidden, the more sophisticated factions of our society make valiant attempts to source blood more humanely. Why is that?”
“Because we’re civilized. Because we have the technology to feed without killing. Because all life has value,” I return simply. “If an innocent life does not have to be taken, if even one can be spared, the extra effort is worth it.”
“What a crock. We don’t kill humans openly because the Council frowns on it,” one of my classmates mutters derisively. “It’s self-preservation. Too many dead bodies mean a visit from the Linkuri. Not to mention too many questions and the risk of exposure to the humans.”
I whip around instinctively to see my challenger. He’s sitting a few rows back and is slouched in his chair, legs extended lazily into the aisle. Everything about his disposition suggests the entire discussion is a bore. He’s tall and lanky with hooded dark eyes and even darker hair. His hair is spiked on top and fades into a closely cropped buzz which makes his thick brows that much more prominent on his overly thin and overly pale face. His pierced ears only further compliment his grungy look.
“Interesting perspective, Blaine.” Lynch knows this student already.
“Interesting? Soccer is interesting. Music is interesting. Killing simply because you can is not interesting,” I counter with disgust.
“Get a grip,” Blaine laughs. Several of my classmates, including Jade and Lexie, join in. “It’s the truth. Fear, not compassion or moral obligation, is what keeps us from taking what we want when we want. It’s a shame really. A finer predator has never been seen. It’s natural progression. It’s evolution.”
“So, what you’re saying is that if it weren’t for the Linkuri the blood would flow freely?” I ask innocently. “It’s only an affinity for your life that keeps the thirst in check? Keeps you returning to the blood bank instead of a dark alley?”
“Exactly. Survival of the fittest. Darwin had it all figured out,” he replies with a wave of the hand. He looks pleased that I’ve finally gotten it through my thick head.
“Coward.” I know I shouldn’t provoke my classmates, but his attitude is unbelievable, and it’s clear he can’t be reasoned with. The look of disgust he gives me easily matches my burgeoning opinion of him.
“I do love a spirited debate!” Lynch is clearly enjoying the exchange, but he does the right thing and redirects the discussion before it gets too ugly. “Does it matter why we don’t kill humans? As long as we don’t do it, does motivation matter? Katia respects life. Blaine respects order. Is one view better than the other?”
“Motivation is definitely important,” answers Nikolai. “But this goes back to the point Katia made before. What’s right to one is not necessarily right to all. She holds a different belief structure than Blaine. His view is a bit more amoral. He sees humans as a food source. No different than a human sees livestock. There’s no right or wrong to it. Katia, on the other hand, sees a symbiotic relationship that can prosper in harmony.”
Why am I not surprised? He’s making fun of my argument, belittling it in front of the entire class. I should’ve just kept my damn mouth shut. I sit there fuming. I swear if looks could kill, he’d be a goner.
I feel the stares of several of my classmates on me as I wait out the remainder of the class, a stony look plastered on my face. As soon as we’re dismissed, I bolt from my desk. Just being in the same room with these people is making me claustrophobic, and I need to get some fresh air.
Nikolai catches up with me in the hall, but I don’t slow down. I have no interest in talking to him.
“Moral imperative, huh?”
“What do you want?” I return acidly.
“Well, I thought perh
aps you might be interested in continuing the discussion from Sociology. I found your point… intriguing,” he says devilishly. He flashes me what I’ve come to think of as ‘the smile’ and pushes his wild black hair out of his eyes.
“Go to hell,” I return.
“I’m serious.” He ducks his head trying to look as repentant as possible. It doesn’t work. Everything from his black leather boots to his low slung jeans and fitted black V-neck scream bad boy. I force myself to meet his eyes and ignore the way the hard lines of his body press against the soft cotton of his clothing. “I didn’t mean to upset you back there. I was just trying to smooth things over a little bit. It was getting kind of intense, and Blaine isn’t one to forgive and forget quickly.”
“News flash: I don’t care what you or any of your friends think.” I turn and point back toward the classroom just in time to see Jade closing in on us.
“Nikolai, Nikolai, Nikolai,” she sings musically from perfectly glossed lips. “Collecting strays again? When will you learn?” Once again it looks like she’s dressed from her little sister’s closet in overly snug designer jeans and a red blouse with buttons that look as though they might burst if she were to take a deep breath.
“Kind of busy now, Jade.”
“Too busy for me?” she pouts, putting one hand on her slender hip and forcing out her chest as if to remind Nikolai of what he’s turning away.
“Right now? Yeah.” His irritation is obvious, and it’s not well received by Jade. Her too small blouse shows plenty of skin and enough cleavage to melt the resolve of pretty much every guy I’ve ever known. Nikolai, however, is not so easily swayed. Maybe he’s seen it all before. It’s only there for a second, but I don’t miss the hostility that briefly distorts her pretty face.
“I’ll remember that,” she returns icily before storming off, blonde hair tossing in her wake. I turn and do the same, leaving Nikolai standing alone in the hall.
**********
I inhale deeply allowing the scents of the stable – hay, manure, horses – to fill my lungs. Maybe I’ll learn to ride. I’ll bet Keegan could teach me. How hard can it be? I decide to check the corral to see if he’s around.
“Foiled again,” I murmur turning the corner to discover that while Keegan is in the corral, Shaye is here once again. Why couldn’t Aldo send me to a larger school? I keep running into the same people everywhere I go. Shaye turned up earlier this week in my Anatomy class. So much for being invisible.
“Hey,” she calls cheerily tipping her chin at the late afternoon sun. She’s wearing an oversized plaid shirt that’s belted at the waist like a dress and a bright red cowgirl hat which keeps her face and neck shaded. She must come out here a lot. She’s certainly better prepared than I am, but I don’t anticipate the late afternoon sun will be an issue. I’ve brought my sunglasses, and, if I start to burn, I’ll return to the protection of the stables.
I step up to the rail and climb to the top, straddling the upper berth next to Shaye.
“Aren’t they beautiful?” she asks.
“I don’t know much about horses,” I admit. “But they certainly are impressive. I was thinking Keegan might teach me to ride.”
“Like I told you before, he’s a great instructor. Very patient. Keegan taught me to ride a few years ago. Before him I was practically a lost cause.”
“Good to know,” I reply, studying his movements. Keegan moves fluidly. He moves in concert with the animal, each anticipating the others’ moves before they’re made. I have no idea what breed he’s riding, but I can’t help but stare in awe. She’s got a shiny black coat and large hooves that could easily crush a human skull if provoked.
“With his coaching I’ve ridden every breed in the stable from the Quarters to the Arabians. If you’re serious, Keegan will teach you whatever you want: racing, jumping, hunting. Most of the students here don’t bother to learn,” Shaye continues. “The horses are just another resource. Here for the bleeding. Keegan’s just another servant to them.” The bitterness that creeps into her voice catches me off guard.
“Something tells me Keegan doesn’t serve anyone but those animals,” I reply lightly. Perhaps it’s not the horses that keep Shaye coming back. I hadn’t given Keegan much thought during my last visit, but her comments make me uneasy.
Keegan must be of mixed-blood. I should have realized sooner. I’d been so wrapped up in myself this week that I haven’t stopped to think much about those around me. The school doesn’t run itself. We are surrounded by support staff. Most of who are likely transfigured vampires performing jobs no respectable pureblood would ever consider. The protection offered by the school combined with the constant blood flow would likely present an attractive and comfortable lifestyle to those without a coven or a strong sire.
“So, how’d the first week go?” she asks, a bright note returning to her voice. “Feel like you’re getting the swing of things?”
“So far, so good.”
“Liar,” Shaye returns, laughing as a gentle breeze tugs at her hair. If possible, she looks even more innocent and juvenile.
“That’s a bold statement.”
“But I’m not wrong.” She shrugs confidently and swings her feet over the side of the corral.
“How can you be so sure?” I ask slightly annoyed. It could be going well. I will not give Shaye the satisfaction of admitting she’s right even though we both know she is.
“I have a sense about these things. Sorry. I should have told you. I always know a lie when I hear it. And I haven’t been wrong yet,” she finishes pointedly. “Not that I’d need to be psychic in this case. I do have two perfectly good eyes, you know. Besides, you’re an outcast by choice, so I won’t make the mistake of feeling sorry for you. With such a powerful uncle, you could rule this school if you wanted to.”
“If only.” I roll my eyes. “This place isn’t really my scene. I’m here to learn because that’s what my uncle wants. I’m not here to climb the social ladder and play politics. It’s never been my strong suit. Aldo says I’m too headstrong for my own good.”
Just thinking of Aldo brings a smile to my lips. Already I miss him more than I would have thought possible.
“Better to be headstrong and independent,” Shaye says thoughtfully.
She doesn’t have to finish the sentence. I know what she means. Better to be headstrong and independent than to be one of them. I study her as we sit in silence. Once you get past her bizarre sense of fashion, we’ve got a lot in common. It would appear we view the world in the same cynical shades of gray. I wonder what’s made her like this and quickly chase the thought from my mind. I know why I’m this damaged, and that’s enough for one soul to bear.
“It’s difficult to lose one you love,” she whispers to the empty corral. “Death isn’t exactly common in our world.”
I wonder if she’s talking to me or to herself when I realize that Keegan has vanished. Yes. We’re more alike than I’m comfortable admitting. Neither of us quite fits the Crossroads mold. I suddenly have the urge to escape. To be free of this connection that Shaye has thrust upon me. Feeling unsettled, I absently rub the gold cuffs on my wrists. I can’t bring myself to leave without offering Shaye something in return.
“I see the life-force of the donor when I drink. Flashes of life. Memories. It’s not nearly as much fun as a lie detector and not nearly as useful, but it’s mine.”
There. Now she knows one of my secrets. Now we’re even.
**********
Saturday morning I finally get a break from Crossroads. I wake up early and drink until my stomach is full to the brim. When I’m satisfied that not one more drop will fit, I know I’m ready to go. It’s important that I manage my hunger today since I’ll be away from the campus and won’t have ready access to fresh blood.
I feel better than I’ve felt all week. Stronger. Charged. I can hardly contain my excitement when I get to the garage and see my car again. Well, Aldo’s car. I know that I can’t really open
her up until I get outside the gates, but I still get a rush sliding in behind the wheel.
After easing the car across campus and out onto Route 7, I head north, jamming the accelerator to the floor. It’s early, and the roads are clear. I can safely test the Audi’s limits and my reflexes, without worrying about giving some unsuspecting senior citizen a coronary. The car handles like a dream, hugging the winding roads and hurtling me toward civilization.
I drive with the windows down and allow the cool morning air to invigorate my spirits, the wind whipping across my face and tousling my hair. I’m glad Aldo chose a school in the United States. Romania is wonderful, but I feel much more comfortable here. Even though I’ve never been to Vermont before it feels more familiar, more real, to me. Well, real and quaint. There certainly weren’t any covered bridges where I come from.
“Welcome to Rutland,” I read aloud, breezing past the visitors sign on the outskirts of town. It’s a good reminder to cut my speed and avoid drawing too much attention to myself. I’m pretty sure the car will draw enough curious stares on its own.
There probably aren’t a lot of teenage girls driving forty thousand dollar sports cars in a small town like this. Hell, there probably aren’t a lot of sports cars period. Not that practical living in the mountains. Most of the vehicles I pass are SUV’s or trucks made for towing boats and hauling outdoor equipment. Another upside to Vermont: there’s an endless list of outdoor activities to choose from, with the mountains and lakes surrounding the school.
The tourist season is over and the streets are quiet this morning. I find a parking spot close to the center of town and decide to hoof it for the rest of the day. I don’t really have any plans. I just want to stretch my legs and forget about school for a while.
It quickly becomes obvious that I haven’t thought this through very well. It’s only 9 a.m., and most of the stores located downtown aren’t open yet. I stop at the local coffee shop and let the barista talk me into a mocha latte. I’m not really in the mood for it, but figure it will help me blend in a little better. What could be more natural than a girl and her coffee? Turns out it’s surprisingly good.
