I’d have to figure out this woman’s pull on me if we were to work together safely.
“I welcome any questions or concerns,” I said, setting my breakfast down and settling into the sofa with what I hoped was an easy repose. I’d have to reassess my approach to the fanglings if they felt they couldn’t come to me as their teacher. “Sit, please.”
The others hovered, various trays, empty boxes, and carts in their hands. “Do you all have questions?” Three heads nodded in unison. I noticed the redheaded brothers were absent. I gestured to the remaining sofa cushions, the seat to my right, the floor around the table. “Please. I am stern but not cruel. Ask.”
Miss Amato handed Benedict her stack of papers before settling into the same plush seat she’d perched in the night before, stubbing her cigarette out. Alex remained standing, leaning against the dark wallpaper. Bradford settled easily in the remaining plush seat, Benedict opting for the floor between him and Miss Amato. William crossed his legs midair and hovered to my right.
The assemblage stared at me in silence as I sipped from my blood bowl, focusing on the way my hunger softened at the offering. I would need a live meal soon enough—the blood bag would only hold for so long. But better now, I realized, to show satisfaction at the meal than disappointment. It was, after all, what the fanglings could offer me. And anything was better than the sewer rat sludge William brought that first day.
Miss Amato poured herself a coffee, swirling a single sugar cube into the delicate cup with a tiny spoon clutched betweenher sharp fingers. I watched a little too closely as she raised it to her rouge lips, the scalding liquid sliding down her graceful neck.
“I’ll start then,” she said, glancing meaningfully at each fangling in turn. “It’s no secret you and I are here to investigate the ghoul that turned these boys.”
I nodded. “An anomaly that shouldn’t have been possible.”
“We don’t know what any of this means, Professor.” Benedict peered up at me from the floor, fiddling with the hem of his trousers. “Sires, ghouls, turnings. No one’s had time to explain any of it, and it seems unfair we don’t know anything about our own circumstances.”
“Well, we can’t have that, certainly.” I straightened, brushing my hands down the front of my sweater more out of habit than anything. “Where are the brothers? Tonight’s lesson will be academic in nature, and they should join.”
“They’re helping Billy and Leslee,” Bradford answered, glancing uneasily at the others.
“Fetch them, then. I’m sure the happy couple will appreciate some time alone.” But none of the fanglings moved. “Now is preferred.”
“It’s a surprise, Professor.” Benedict looked to Miss Amato, who nodded encouragingly. “For you.”
A smile split my face, cracking my cheeks in aching joy. It was all I could do not to touch it in wonder—what a strange and fleeting thing. “Then someone better take good notes for them.” I gestured to Benedict, who pulled the pen from behind his ear, producing a small tablet pad from seemingly nowhere. “Let’s begin, then, with the expected sire-vampire relationship.”
I won’t bore you with the detailed lecture I presented the fanglings that evening, as you are most likely already aware of the basics. A vampire sires another, traditionally, by drinking the human’s blood when they’re at the brink of death (ordrinking until they reach that point), then offering their own blood to the human to drink. The alchemy of this exchange results in a fangling—a freshly turned vampire.
This isnotto be confused with the lesser creation of a thrall, wherein a vampire drinks of a human so long that they become addicted to the venomous bite. They are so consumed by the thought of their next dose that they’ll blindly follow any order, grant any request, until they are entirely lost to the bids of their new master. You’ll note there is no alchemy in creating a thrall, only manipulation.
“But what about ghouls?” Benedict paused his pen, looking up at me expectantly.
“That is where my lesson becomes less history and biology, and more theory.” I steepled my fingers together, tapping a restless foot on the carpet. “We’ve understood ghouls to be a type of vampire, but lost entirely to their appetites, all human attributes vanished in their monstrous slide to darkness.”
“Like you warned us about.” Bradford barely breathed, face waxy in the low light, eyes sharp with hurt. “We can turn into a ghoul?”
“It’s nothing to worry about.” Miss Amato gave him a comforting half smile. “It takes a very long time, and that’s why we’re teaching you as much as we can. Education keeps you safe.”
I slammed my teeth down on my tongue hard enough to taste my own sour blood, contradiction building an offensive against my lips. There was no point in coddling these children any further—there was a violent world closing in on them, and half-truths would do nothing to arm them against it.
And yet.
I could not bring myself to break the silent trust as Bradford took Miss Amato’s outstretched hand and squeezed it, light returning to his handsome gaze. And as much as I wanted toremind everyone that part of their education was understanding consequences, that you cannot study only the hypothesis but also the outcome of the experiment, the words wouldn’t come.
Instead, I ground out a solitary, middling, “Quite.”
Miss Amato sensed my displeasure, eyes darting briefly to mine before she stubbed out yet another cigarette. “Alright, gentlemen, that’s enough for now. Head down to the ballroom, and we’ll join you shortly.” Incredibly, the fanglings filed out in a quiet line, clicking the door shut behind them. What spell did this woman have over them?
“They’re just kids,” Miss Amato said, as if in answer to my unasked question. “There’s no point in scaring them.”
“Their circumstances come with risks,” I snapped. “There’s been too much soft stepping around them. How are they supposed to protect themselves if they don’t know the dangers they face?”
“Oh, so telling them they’re all going to turn into monsters if they—”
“Theyaremonsters, Miss Amato. We all are.” Her eyes narrowed at my interruption.
“Yes, you’re all so scary with your big teeth and night shift hours.” She crossed her arms, fixing me with a look. “What is it that defeats you again? A little sunshine?”
