“There has never been meddling, and there never will be,” Professor Mustache blustered, but even he didn’t sound convinced of his own words.
“Stop lying and show the tape,” Mitch grumbled, surprising the hell out of me because I thought he was asleep. “If the tape still exists here, my brother wants people to see it. It’s you guys that wanted to cover up what happened—he could give a fuck.”
The splotches on Mustache’s cheeks grew even darker, standing out in stark contrast to his white facial hair. “Well, I don’t want to see it.”
“Then don’t watch,” Mitch growled. “It happened, and you’ll show them because I told you to show them.”
“I agree with Richard,” Mia said as she leaned back in her chair. “I’m not blaming you for anything either, January, or you Mitch, even though I severely dislike you—”
“Feeling’s mutual.”
Mia ignored Mitch and didn’t miss a beat. “But we’re all going to try to win, and none of us want to get killed.”
A shudder seemed to run through the room, and Mustache’s back shot ramrod straight. He shook his head. “What happened to Marisa Garner was a tragic accident.”
The name made my heart jump, but I tried to keep my expression blank. Marisa Garner’s name had been on the first medical record in the files that Justin stole. I remembered because the record said she was something called an Alphastrain.
I fully expected Professor Mustache to tell us that the video wasn’t in their records, but instead, he trudged back to his computer and clicked on his mouse.
The video opened up with a view of the stadium, but instead of bright green turf, the ground was gone to reveal a deep pit with what looked like a paintball or laser tag stadium built within. Open structures bridged throughout the pit. Lights illuminated every corner of the stadium, and the fourteen students all waving from a bridge.
Half of the students were in what looked like black-plated armored suits, very similar to what the Hawthorn Group soldiers wore, but covering their whole body. The other seven wore black t-shirts and pants. Professor Titus’ voice came over the speaker, welcoming everyone to their one-hundred-sixth annual Senior Vampire Hunt.
The camera zoomed onto the faces of the students, moving from face to face. A few of the last names were vaguely familiar. This year, there were three girl hunters and three guy hunters; the rest were in such heavy armor that it was hard to tell their gender.
Applause rose up for each contestant, but it was nothing compared to when Professor Titus called out Marisa Garner’s name. The camera landed on a tall, muscular girl. Her hair was shaved on both sides, and down the center, she had a shiny, blackish-blue mohawk. She pointed out at the crowd, saying, “Love you. Love you and you …”
“She was so fucking nice, definitely the most popular girl in school—the good kind of popular,” Mia said as she rubbed her forehead.
We all looked at Mia, and, for just a second, I thought that we all had the same simultaneous thought.
Like you, Mia.
The parallel made a chill run down my spine.
The camera moved over to Sebastian Holter, looking as disinterested and cold as always. When the announcer said his name, the applause petered off, and the auditorium grew silent. It must have been in some sort of protest, because even though everyone at Blackburn seemed to dislike Mitch, he’d probably get a healthy round of applause, at least from the Elites who considered him one of their own.
Sebastian didn’t smile, but I could see a spark of interest and excitement in his eyes. The only other time I’d seen a real spark of life in those eyes was when I gave the guy a bloody smile, and that was a bit terrifying, to think my violent act could invoke the same kind of pleasure that a stadium full of contempt and condemnation could.
The scene cut to a free-standing elevator compartment. Metal doors spread open, and smoke poured out.
“Three out of three championships, the vampire started in mist form,” Lucas said. “They have to know that the hunters can see through it. It makes me think that it’s some sort of nervous response.”
I glanced over at Lucas a few chairs down, wondering if I would find sympathy on his face. Of anyone at Blackburn Academy, I wouldn’t be surprised to find sympathy for the vampires from my sensitive giant of a friend, but his expression looked more speculative.
“They make no sound in mist form,” Richard pointed out from beside him. His gaze was locked on the screen.
There was a blur that came down from above and to the right, and suddenly, Sebastian Holter was there, crouched beside the mist. He jumped to his feet, and his leg blurred through the air. The smoke vanished, and a large body went flying, hitting a nearby wall with a loud smack. The vampire bounced up. Its skin was a leathery mask, and it bared a mouthful of fangs as it descended.
Sebastian dodged, and the vampire sped past him and directly into another structure. The creature’s face clanged against the metal wall. The vampire hunter lunged and stabbed a long, wooden stake into the vampire’s back. The creature collapsed to the ground, and his giant body went limp.
Sebastian pulled a short sword from the leather sheath on his belt and held it at the vampire’s neck. He swung the blade up, and the steel glinted under the lights. He paused, and instead of bringing the blade down to sever the vampire’s head from his shoulders, he twirled the blade in the air and sheathed it in leather.
The future owner of the Hawthorn Group leaned in over the vampire, his lips moved. I thought he mouthed the words “not yet,” and then he pulled the stake from the vampire’s back and backed away.
The vampire's body shimmered, and mist poured out to twirl where their solid form had just been. The vapor rolled over the ground, heading in the opposite direction as Sebastian had moved, but a moment later, Sebastian followed, strolling after the vampire. A large male hunter dove at the mist, but Sebastian blurred through the air, smacking into the second hunter and pushing him out of the way. Sebastian then staked the vampire, brought up his sword, and once more, let the vampire go.
It went on and on. Sebastian followed the vampire, smacked all of his hunting competitors out of the way, brought the vampire to the point of death, and then released him.
A roll of boos rang out every time Sebastian failed to take his killing blow. The crowd around began to chant, "End this now! End this now!"
But Sebastian had no intention of ending the vampire. It stretched on until Sebastian pulled a stake from the vampire's back and the man just lay there on the ground, prone. Sebastian pulled back his leg and kicked the vampire, sending the large body to crash into another wall.
The booing grew even louder, and someone shouted, "Stop it!"
"This is horrible," Susie whispered as she hugged herself, even though the room was far from cold. "I closed my eyes last time. It's so much worse than I thought."
Across the table, Richard looked over, and I could see the yearning in his eyes. It was clear he wanted to be sitting where I was beside the girl he loved.
Knowing what had to be coming up soon, I wanted to keep my gaze averted, but I needed to know Sebastian’s crimes if I was going to help Justin. I forced my eyes back to where Sebastian continued to beat the prone vampire. There was no excuse in the world for that kind of brutality, and Sebastian didn't even seem mad. His face was just as impassive as always.
Both Mitch and Sebastian had told me that they hated everyone, but there had been something heartbreaking about the way Mitch had said it. It was almost as if Mitch said it because he was just too tired to give people a chance anymore. Whereas Sebastian just seemed as if he got satisfaction from the act of hating. It wasn't sadism. It was the complete disregard for anyone's existence but his own. He wasn't enjoying what he was doing to this vampire, from his expression; he could care less. He was simply making a point.
Acid rose in my throat, but I swallowed it down and covered my mouth.
A new chant started from the crowd. "Marisa! Marisa!"
Sebastian jumped to his feet and pushed Marisa as she swung down her sword. The camera angle caught his expression fully, and the gleeful smile spreading across Sebastian's lips. Marisa fell forward, directly toward her sword.
Professor Titus slammed his hand down on the computer's keyboard, and the screen went black. The video might have gone dark, but I swore that I could still see Sebastian's smile as if it had burned into my retinas. My heart raced like I'd run five miles.
"Technically, the rules allowed pushing other opponents that year," Professor Titus' voice broke halfway through his words. He shot to his feet and pushed up the screen until it rolled most of the way up before he dropped his hand to his mustache. The professor cleared his throat audibly. "The policy has changed to no purposeful touching of other opponents. This was ruled an accident, and the school board asked students to stop spreading rumors that Sebastian Holter murdered Marisa. I shouldn't have shown you ... I ..." His gaze cut over to Mitch, and I could swear that the older man was pleading with Mitch to call an end to this.
"This is boring, and I'm hungry." Mitch climbed out of his chair. "I've done all of you enough favors for the day—get out of here." He pulled open the door, almost violently. Everyone shared glances, but they climbed out of their seats and headed for the door.
I stood with the group, but instead of heading for the door like everyone else, I crossed toward Professor Titus. The man faced his computer, but he wasn't typing. Dark streaks stained down his cheeks, and one side of his mustache was slicked down from his tears. His head shot up, and he looked back at me. His hands wiped at his cheeks. "Sorry, dear. Can I help you with something?"
"No, I'm sorry. Obviously, Marisa was one of your students. I wasn't thinking." I stepped back.
"Marisa, she was a very special ..." he trailed off and made a small noise in his throat. "You had a question about the hunt?"
I took another step back. "A question about Marisa, but it's not at all important."
"You want to know what happened next?"
"No." I lifted my hands. "No. I promise I was asking about something else."
"Please, just ask." He wiped at his cheeks again. "She was a good kid, and I'd love to answer any question about her life."
"I saw her records yesterday at the Hawthorn Group," I said carefully. "It said that she was an Alphastrain. What does that mean?"
"Uh ... um." His brow furrowed. "I have never heard that term before, young lady. I'm sorry. Marisa ... well, she was definitely the child of an Elite."
She had moved like an Elite, but she didn't seem like one. Everything about her screamed that she was down to earth and friendly. It was hard to imagine that she was raised to be superior to everyone else.
"My father," the voice came from directly behind me, and I spun to find that Mitch had closed the distance. He leaned against the table. "She was my half-sister. Her mother is our live-in cook. The impeccable Sebastian Holter Sr. never acknowledged Marisa, but everyone knows." Mitch's voice was cold, but for just a fraction of a second, I could swear that I saw raw pain in his eyes. As quick as it appeared, the pain vanished, and Mitch just looked bored again.
Mitch watched his brother murder his sister—a sister he had probably spent his whole life with, and then the Academy made him take an oath to never talk about it. He had just sat through a video recording of his sister's death. He'd had his head hidden in his arms, but he'd had to have heard it, and he did all of it so we could follow a lead that would help us find Justin. Tears pricked my eyes, but I blinked rapidly and forced them back.
Something told me that if I cried on Mitch’s behalf, he’d never forgive me for it. So, I thanked Professor Titus and followed Mitch out of the library.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
There were two railroad lines in Brightside, cutting the midsized city into thirds. On the easternmost side, old colonials squeezed between blocks of McMansion complexes, but directly across a double set of iron rails, a cluster of office buildings and banks topped out at ten stories, and squat industrial buildings separated the unsightly urban landscape from the ritzy shops of midtown to the north. Even further west, across the second set of tracks was the areas surrounding King Street. People referred to it as Meth City. Kids from across both sets of tracks were told in no uncertain terms not to go over to that side of town. There was only trouble there. They called it dangerous. Up until a month ago, I called it home.
I didn’t expect the joy that surged into my heart when I crossed that second set of railroad lines on the way to the Baldwin house. They lived in a neighborhood just on the “wrong side” of downtown. The streets were paved here and the houses small but clean. The Baldwin’s lived in a duplex with more people than rooms. Nana had her arm around me almost the entire dinner like she couldn’t bear to release me. Zack and Lucas’ thirteen-year-old sister Jean stuck to my other side, telling me in detail about everything she was doing to prepare for the Blackburn Academy trials next summer. Everyone in the house seemed to be competing for how loud they could shout over each other, and between Zack and Lucas, their sister, Aunt Pam, grandparents, and parents, my sides were soon aching from laughing. The Baldwin brothers’ grandparents and parents seemed proud that another kid from King Street had won a scholarship to Blackburn, and I thought that maybe I understood why Lucas and Zack had done so much to help me get in. Our backgrounds probably had more in common with each other than the middle-class BBC members. For just a short time, we ate tacos, and I forgot about the fact that Justin was missing, and I might die in five days during the hunt.
Saying goodbye to my grandmother was almost physically painful, but she kissed away my tears and told me that we both had a lot to adjust to and that she missed me so much.
What felt like minutes after I got there, Zack was already walking with me toward Mitch’s muscle car parked a few blocks down. “Thanks for coming, Blondie,” he said offhandedly, but when we were a little way down from his house, he turned to me and lowered his voice. “Did he call you yet?”
Zack didn’t need to specify who he was asking about. It was clear from his tone that he meant Justin.
I shook my head. “Nothing.”
A full moon shone above, lighting the tightly packed street. Music spilled out of more than one open door we passed.
“Do you believe what they’re saying he did?” Zack asked the question carefully like he was trying to hide all inflection from his voice.
“Zack.” I slowed my pace even more. “Can I tell you a secret? It’s a secret that only Justin knew, and now I’m afraid that it’s a secret that’s going to die with me. It has to do with Justin.”
Zack jerked to a stop and turned his head toward me in clear surprise, his brown eyes connecting with mine. His brow furrowed. “What?”
“It’s a secret that could get you killed. It’s the reason Justin hid me and has been acting the way he has for a long time. It’s the reason Sebastian offered me the scholarship and the internship. I promised never to tell anyone, but now no one knows, and if they kill me, the secret will never get out.”
Zack didn’t respond for what felt like a full minute. Down the street, headlights turned on, glaring light in our eyes. The lights flashed on and off, and I could almost hear Mitch’s words in the lights. Blink, blink, blink. Get. The. Fuck. In. The. Car.
“I feel like you’re the one Justin would want me to trust,” I said. “But it would put your life at risk, maybe for a long time.”
He nodded back toward the house. “We’re already at risk. Hawthorn Group says they’re patrolling every house that Justin outed in those records, but I haven’t seen a single agent come by. Justin outed the top dogs. They’re not going to
spare any manpower here. Thankfully, there’s a lot of us, and Lucas and I are always here at night. We’ll take turns sleeping.” He rubbed his neck as a deep line puckered between his brows. “Is this about you being an Elite?”
“No.” I shook my head. “It’s something else.”
Zack examined me for a few more seconds while Mitch flashed the lights at us. “Who’s going to come after me for knowing?”
“The Hawthorn Group.”
A sudden whizzing sound whistled through the air, there was a blur of motion down the street, and then suddenly, Mitch’s face was inches from mine.
“Shut up,” he growled.
My hands came up, and I shoved at Mitch’s hard chest before my mind had time to catch up. I stumbled back a step, and he didn’t so much as flinch.
“Whoa,” Zack breathed. “Did you actually just zip down my crowded street? And how about we settle down here and take a step back from January.” His hand came down on both Mitch’s and my shoulders, but Mitch immediately rolled Zack’s grip off.
My unwilling bodyguard kept his gaze on mine. “You really think this is a private conversation?” Mitch twirled his finger in the air, but I immediately knew he wasn’t gesturing to the lively neighborhood. “You don’t even know the lengths Justin went to keep this joker alive, and you’re going to throw it away?”
“That’s not what I was doing,” I snapped, but a moment after I said the words, a wave of shame washed over me. Shit. Was I about to do that?
“What are you guys talking about?” Zack asked, also looking at me. “Everything okay? You want to head back to the house?”
He was trying to diffuse the situation by inserting himself between Mitch and me, but what he didn’t understand was that Mitch was protecting him from me.
“Hey, Joker. This is the best piece of advice you might ever get in your life. Do you want to stay safe? Keep away from Justin, me, and this chick.”
Zack lifted his chin. He was taller and bigger than Mitch, even though they were both so huge, who knew if it made any difference. “Are you threatening me?”
Hunter Trials (The Vampire Legacy Book 2) Page 17
