“Oh dear,” a man says in a smooth baritone. He picks up my books, and when our eyes meet, I get the feeling I’ve seen his face before, glacial blue eyes and jet-black hair. His tweed suit matches his briefcase. Ihaveseen him. He’s the Night Dean, Faust Nocth. He presses the books back into my hands, taking a cursory glance atthem. “Do forgive me, Miss Smith,” he says. I consider following him. Asking him why I have a vampire roommate when no one else does. And why said roommate is Aliz Astra, of all people. But I’m not in any position to make myself look suspicious.
The next dayI take lunch in the candlelit dining room of Tynarrich. As I dip a slice of fresh sourdough into a bowl of Cullen skink, I think of our prisoners. Callisto always leaves a vampire alive when dismantling a blood party, but only to take them back to HQ and gather intelligence.
And after they’ve answered all our questions, we use them to train against compulsion, as well as venom immunity. Most of our prisoners are Convert vampires, but Callisto never acknowledges their past humanity. The moment you decide to participate in a blood party, your humanity becomes null and void. I stir my soup and think of Julia, wondering how long she’s been a vampire. Does she even remember what it was like to be human?
And although I’d rather do anything else but study, I actually have to pass my Integration subjects, which means handing in assignments on time. Such as writing an essay called “The First Hours of a Newly Sired Vampire.”
I stick to my room. Astra, who never studies, nevertheless keeps her desk in a state of perpetual chaos. A dozen books are sprawled over the mahogany surface, and I’m pretty sure they are just there as décor.
I’ve barely written a page when I hear the clicking of the door, hinges creaking as it opens. As fast as I can, I pull my headphones on, hoping she’ll ignoreme.
“I can tell you’re not listening to music,” she says.
I turn, clenching my jaw. The vampire in my room glares right back at me from the door, her arms folded over her brown waistcoat.
“They’re noise-canceling headphones,” I say curtly.
“They’re not very good if you can still hear what I’m saying,” sheretorts, a stupid smirk curling her lips. I grit my teeth. I’ve never wanted to drive a stake through someone’s heart more than I do hers. I keep the headphones on, taking a deep breath to focus on the words on the pages in front ofme.
As death settles, the blood of the sire ties the new vampire to its host. The vampiric germ will first latch on to the corpse’s sinus, followedby—
“Early siring symptoms?”
She rests one hand on the back of my chair, and the other on the page. Her slender fingers are spread out, nails clipped short. On her index is a ring with a small emblem. I don’t want to look up. But she’s intent on annoying me. I crane my neck, and Astra fixes me with her insufferable gaze.
“What?” I ask sharply.
“Are you considering converting?” she asks, her voice too sweet.
“I would rather die,” I say, and I offer her the tightest smile I can manage.
I expect her to back off. Instead, her left hand leaves the back of my chair and yanks down my headphones. “Dying is usually part of the equation,” she whispers, breath against my ear.
My heart thuds painfully against my ribs. For her own safety, she should run. She should hope I never see her again. But the spoiled princess remains put, far too close to me, to the extent that I can smell the moss and rain fragrance she carries with her everywhere. The hand that pulled down my headphones is now on my shoulder, a finger drawing a line over my jumper.Too fucking close.
I grab her hand, crushing her cool fingers between mine. “If you eventhinkabout siring me, you’ll live to regret it, Astra.”
I let go of her hand, and she stares back at me in a stupor.
“As if I’d ever bite you,” she says. “I’d rather becomeparched.”
“You’d do us both a favour.”
“Or maybe I’ll change my mind.” She steps closer. Her skin is flushed. “So maybe you should find a new room, before it’s too late.”
“Make me,” I say.Fight me already.I just need an excuse. Anything to wipe the smug look off her face.
“Don’t worry,” she says icily. “Sooner or later, I will.”
Chapter
Eight
“Have you found the library?” Penny asks as soon as she picks up the phone.
“Not yet. I’m still working on my map.” I look up at an overly ornate lamppost, possibly a few centuries old, painted black with golden embellishments. I give her a rundown of everything that happened in Inverness. “Five vampiresdidget away, but at least we now know Highland leeches like working together.”
“Could they have been students?” she asks.
