“I’m not sure if I want to become a lab rat,” I whisper. “But thanks.” She elbows me. I try to imagine her brother. Before meeting Ife, I wasn’t aware that vampires could bedoctors.That implies the existence of vampire hospitals, too.
During class, more and more of my fellow students turn to stare at me, and their thirst is familiar. I stare back, my gaze hard. Eventually, they all look away. No one reacts as badly as Aliz.
“Smith?” a voice calls. It takes me a moment to remember my false surname. I peer towards the end of the dimly lit classroom. Gustavsson’s lecture is already over, students filing out, their eyes turning crimson as they walk past me. Ife is putting her things in her bag, but she stops to glance at the professor, then back atme.
“Will you come here a moment?”
I clasp the buckles of my satchel. “Head along without me,” I whisper to Ife. She stares at me, uncertain, but nods and slips out from the bench. I wait until she’s out of the class before I walk down the aisle. Gustavsson glances up at me. A glint of crimson flashes in his eyes. He blinks it away in an instant and clears his throat.
“Faust was not lying about your blood,” he says.
My lips part. How much has the Night Dean told him about me? I clench my fists behind my back and remain calm. “He warned you?” I ask, cocking my head. The classroom is empty. Gustavsson doesn’t have a Familiar here to protect him.
The record player is still crackling in the corner, and Gustavsson snuffs out the candle closest to him, just as the wax drips into a metal dish.
“The Red Ribbons’ trial ended last night. They’ve all had their fangs removed.” I press my lips together, hiding my shock. “Some will be going to jail—including the girls who ambushed you—and the rest have been fined.”
He knows what I am, doesn’the?
“Why are you telling me this?” I whisper, keeping my hand close to my satchel’s clasp.
“Because you did something incredibly dangerous,” he says, voice as low as mine. “I may not have been at Tynahine long, but even I know that if you come upon a secret club of vampire supremacists, the most reasonable thing to do would be to run the other way.”
“That’s exactly what I did,” I say defensively.
“But you still got hurt.” He rests an arm on his desk. I could swear that he looks worried. “At least that is what Faust told me. It’s a miracle Tynahine hasn’t been shut by the Council yet.”
“I suppose so,” I say. The record stops playing, leaving the hall far too quiet. “Did you call me here to talk about the trial?”
Gustavsson grimaces at my sharp tone.
“Yes.” He touches a narrow, black velvet box on his desk. “When Faust told me about your blood, I thought it would be wise to give you this.” He pushes the box across the wood. “Though don’t let me see its contents, if that’s all right.”
I frown and pick it up. Keeping it out of his line of sight, I unclaspit.
Inside is a silver cross, plush against a red cushion.
“These are forbidden,” I say, clasping it shut again. It’s practically identical to the first cross Penny gave me, back when I was shadowing her missions and wasn’t allowed a gun or stake yet.
“I know,” says Gustavsson, brushing his pale blond hair out of his eyes. “But with that sort of blood, you’re better safe than sorry.”
I stare at him. I’ll never get used to vampiresworryingabout my blood, instead of wanting to drinkit.
“You have quite a piercing gaze, Miss Smith.” I glance away from him, feeling my face burn. I mumble a quiet apology and place the box he gifted me in my satchel. And for some reason, I feel a little safer than before.
Later that night,as I sit in a class on vampires’ influence during the French Revolution, nausea sweeps through me. It’s so strong I barely feel the itch in my neck. Even with Gustavsson’s cross in my bag, I feel as though I’m being hunted by something.
To make matters worse, Elia, who I’d not spotted in this class before, decides to sit down beside me, her silky brown hair brushing against my arm.
Elia may be immune to garlic, but she isn’t immune to my blood. “You weren’t exaggerating,” she whispers, far too close. I tighten my fingers around my pen, fighting the urge to stab her. “I’d hate to break the treaties. But you might be worth it,” she adds.
“Do you want to die?” I say, and her only reply is light laughter. My heart thuds. I knew what I was getting myself into.
I’ve asked Penny more than a dozen times why Type-S blood smells the way it does, and she doesn’t know. It’s something I could investigate here in Tynahine; I’m sure I’d find the answers. But I must findThe Book of Blood and Rosesfirst. I can’t focus on what the lecturer is saying, her voice grating as she scribbles on the chalkboard.
My dream plays in the back of my mind, Aliz reaching through the hedge, pulling me into a tangle of thorns.
I feel her hands slipping under my nightgown. Her fangs burying into me while I welcome every new bite.
