“You said I’ll have to adjust my sleep schedule,” I say.
“It would be a good idea. Your Integration lessons take place during sunlight, with human professors. That’s where you’ll learn everything you need to know to live in Vampiredom. All your other classes”—he steals a glance at me—“will be at night, with vampires.”
I shudder. The road darkens as the trees form an archway, blocking out all but a few sparse rays of sun. “We’ve had the odd human student before,” he says. “So don’t worry, your presence won’t be too shocking.”
“Why the sudden interest in admitting humans?” I ask.Other than having walking blood bags at hand, of course.“I mean, I’m glad that you are. But I’m curious.”
“At Tynahine we believe knowledge should not be kept behind locked doors,” he says. The words sound rehearsed. With yearly tuition being higher than what my parents ever had in their bankaccounts, vampires certainly have a narrow concept of which humans are worthy of theirknowledge.
The dirt road becomes smooth again, and I rest my head on the glass. A redbrick road climbs up to a towering gate of wrought iron, a tall fence at either side covered with ivy.
It’ll be a quick mission, I tell myself. Steal a book and get back out. Tynahine officially has eight libraries, but according to Penny there is a ninth, hidden one. Somewhere deep in the passageways beneath campus, a secret collection of books, banned for centuries, collecting dust. And amongst them,The Book of Blood and Roses.
I catch a glimpse of four words that decorate the gate.We Invite You In.They open with a groan, shovelling fallen leaves out of the way.
They have no idea who they’re invitingin.
Stone houses startto appear through the trees. I spot a grey bridge in the distance, running over what I’m assuming is Tynahine’s river. “That’s the Raven River,” the Familiar says. “But Tynahine was founded long before the river had a name. They used to call this placean taigh ri taobh na h-aibhne.‘The house by the river.’ They then shortened that toTaigh na h-Aibhne,before it was anglicized to the name we have today.”
“Why would they call it ‘the house’?” I ask as the buildings start to double in size. By the size of their bricks and the darkness of the groves between them, I can tell they’re all centuries old. Some have great twisted columns, others are blanketed entirely in ivy, leaves crisping in a gradient from salmon to dark purple.
“The original scholars were probably referring to the old hunting lodge across the river.” He slows the car as the cobbled streets between each building begin to narrow. I spot a wide square with a fountain in the middle, fringed by a willow grove, its branches almost bare. He doesn’t point me to the hunting lodge. Instead, he hands me a paper map and a rusty old key. “You’re in room 904, Tynarrich Hall.”
I get out of the car, crisp air biting at my cheeks. Fallen leaves crunch beneath my new boots, and I hoist my case out of the back.
“Straight up that hill, through the pine grove,” he adds.
The Familiar is gone before I can thank him.
The damp airis so fresh it stings my nostrils. After four years in London, I know I should welcome the sweet scent, but I’m not here to clear my lungs of smog.
My acceptance letter, inside the black envelope that Penny gave me after my last mission, was filled with pictures of the campus, but none of them do it justice. Most of the buildings are clustered in the deepest point of the valley, except for Tynarrich. I spot the towering shape of my hall of residence in the far left, separated by a sloping pine grove, just as the Familiar promised. It’s one of the oldest buildings, an austere fortress of sandstone and small windows.
I trek through the grove and stop just outside the wooden doors. A sign on the stone archway spells outTaigh nan Nathraichean,and below, in English,Tynarrich Hall.Inside, I find Tynarrich’s reception hall still and quiet. Not a single vampire in sight. A fireplace burns next to a cluster of bookcases. I stare at the vaulted ceiling, chandeliers falling from each archway. The small windows all have shutters and heavy curtains, which do not let in a single ray of daylight.
The wheels of my case are caked with mud, dirtying an otherwise immaculate carpet. I stop in front of a spiralling staircase with a golden banister and look up at the walls, lined with portraits of old aristocrats. My room, 904, is on the ninth floor. I stare at the staircase, measuring it.Definitely not.
I turn back towards the cosy library and find a lift between two bookcases. I play with my suitcase handle as the lift climbs up the old building. How many leeches will I be sharing this hall with? I swallow hard and try to calm my breathing. The lift’s floor is black, dark enough for vampire-corpse dust to blend in, if I were to accidentally kill someone in here.Oh, I wish.
The ninth floor has a low ceiling, painted dark green. Lanterns flank the walls with warm light. I turn two corners before I finally find it: 904. I draw out the old key the Familiar handed me, with a snake curling around the bow, and slot it through the equally old keyhole. The lock clicks, and I push it open.
I feel the wall for a light switch and flip it on, then rest my back against the door and breathe. I’m safe in here.
The room is old but cosy. There’s a single bed, with an ornate frame and red velvet curtains with golden tassels. Just like downstairs, there’s a chandelier with crystals and cobwebs. I cringe at the sight. There’s something inherentlyvampiricabout the décor, even though vampires don’t sleep in beds. A wooden desk faces a shuttered window, with a narrow wardrobe at the side. The right wall is shrouded in black curtains.Interesting choice,I think.
I undo the buckles of my suitcase and take out my clothes—or ratherCassie Smith’sclothes. Cassie wears corduroy skirts and flowy blouses, as opposed to my all-black uniform. Next, I pull out the books.The History of the Modern Vampireby Into Antilla andAn Introduction to the Treaties of 1912by Andrea Ceretti. But beneath the ordinary possessions of a twenty-two-year-old postgraduate student is a black wooden panel. And under that false bottom, a sheet of translucent fabric calledzia,which conceals silver from X-ray machines and metal detectors. I lift the zia, and my racing heart calms when I see them.
A folded bow and twenty silver-tipped arrows. Three wooden stakes. A gun and a dozen silver bullets. A white mask. Two crosses. A watch with a silver blade inside it. My name, Rebecca Charity, is etched into the stakes.
Just as I fasten the watch to my wrist, I spot a jar of supplements in the corner of the case—the supplements that I should have taken last night. The pills contain an extremely high concentration of allicin, the main compound in garlic. My heart skips a beat.Shit.If a single leech gets a whiff of my blood, it’ll be over. I’ll be an immediate target for every hungry monster lurking in the shadows.
I dry-swallow two, just to be on the safe side. It’ll take an hour forthem to come into effect, but I should be fine. Leeches sleep during the day, after all.
I spot a poster on the wall next to my desk, displaying a list of forbidden items.
At the very top is garlic. Funnily enough, stakes are not listed, but I’m assuming Tynahine isn’t expecting to have a hunter in their midst. I glance down at the watch. My rank, Cross, is embedded in the leather. Usually the sight of it makes me grimace, but not anymore. I’ll be leaving the lowest rank of Callisto behind as soon as I’ve completed this mission.
How exactly Penny will be able to get me into the highest echelons of our organisation, I have no idea. It usually takes a hunter a year or two to rise from Cross to Hymn. Hymn-ranked hunters are allowed to live in Callisto’s headquarters, instead of the satellite base I live in, and are given more advanced training. Then they take another four or five years to reach Silver. Silver hunters have full access to Callisto’s weaponry and the first three levels of the archives. The other four levels are available only to Stakes. Stakes are also allowed to form their own teams, choose their own missions. Take on subordinates, like Penny did withme.
