“A Trainee jumped you?” At her nod, I pressed. “One of the guys just jumped from out of the blue and bit you?”
She nodded frantically now, looking pale and trembly like she was either about to cry or faint. Her adrenaline rush had faded, and shock was setting in.
“We need to take care of you.” I slung my pack around to my chest, grabbed a towel, and held it out to her. First things first, we needed to staunch the blood flow. “Press this to your neck. When we get back, go straight to your dorm and clean it up as best you can.”
She pressed the towel on her wound. It soaked red instantly, and she pulled it away, folded it to a clean section, and pressed again.
“That is seriously screwed up,” I muttered, catching sight of the bite mark. “Like some Dracula shit.” Carden had fed on me, but it was nothing like this carnage. “I can’t imagine the vamps okayed this. You’d think they’d find it…I don’t know…vulgar.”
I needed to find out what those boys were up to. As if Emma’s fate weren’t mystery enough, now more than ever, I wanted to know what the hell went on in that castle.
She gave me an apologetic smile. “I’m really sorry about this.”
“Sorry?” I gave Regina a probing look, trying to figure her out—for me, dispersing a pack of bloodthirsty Draug was child’s play compared to the pain of bonding with strangers. “Why are you sorry?”
“Nothing like battling a couple of corpses to ruin your week.”
I laughed. Her sense of humor was unexpected—and so much like something I’d say. “Actually,” I found myself sharing, “it’s my birthday week.”
“That sucks.”
I remembered my drunken, no-good father. “Believe it or not, this is far from my worst birthday ever. Pathetic, huh?” But then my mind went to Emma. My friend would’ve done something silly to commemorate the day. She would’ve written me a note, or stolen me an extra bagel, or something.
Regina gave me a sympathetic look that said more than any words would. “Well, at least this’ll be the worst part of your week, right?”
“You’d be surprised.” I didn’t have a problem with optimism, but naïveté was a different story. I’d helped this girl a couple times now, and I was glad of it. But I had the dreadful suspicion I was wrong about one thing: Curly wasn’t entirely like me. She’d need to toughen up if she was to survive her first month.
I sighed as I checked my watch. My next class was with Master Alcántara.
Regina had no idea how bad things could get.
CHAPTER SEVEN
It took everything I had to walk into Assassination and Elimination Techniques class, Alcántara’s special Initiates-only seminar. I braced to find his cold, black eyes waiting for me as I entered the room—just like always. And like always, that stare unnerved me. Infuriated me. His creepy, unnatural interest in me had only intensified since Carden’s arrival on the island.
Buzzing filled my head. Seeing him, I could think only:
1. Alcántara killed Emma.
2. I despised Alcántara.
3. Alcántara was the enemy.
My enemy.
Like downed power lines bucking and snapping inside my skull, my thoughts were wild, volatile, charged. Lethal. I would discover what he’d done to Emma. What they’d done to her. The decision was irrefutable. My goal, unignorable.
I glanced around, looking for a place to sit, but hostile faces were all around me. Girls in variations of tough and pretty, every one of them waiting for the opportunity to plunge a knife in my back.
It was Alcántara’s fault I had no friends left. When Emma died, I’d also lost Yasuo. And if Master Al had his way, he’d take Carden from me, too.
It was unthinkable.
Memories flooded me. Unbearable memories. I flashed back to those days when I’d walk into a class to sit beside Emma or Yas. Our world had been fraught with terror, and yet who knew those had been my good old days?
Trembling now, I made my way to a seat, any seat, unable to meet anyone’s eye. But even as I steered myself, going on autopilot, lurching toward an empty spot, I knew. I’d do what I always did: I’d survive.
And I’d uncover the truth of this hell.