“Is she deaf?” one of the guys asked.
Curly hadn’t responded to Yasuo’s little greeting, and these were the sorts of guys who weren’t used to being ignored. Yas leaned down to speak in her ear. “Hey, Shirley Temple. I’m talking to you.”
The leggy, pretty girl went wide-eyed, making her look like a panicked woodland creature. Her gaze skittered over the Trainees. They’d closed in, standing behind the girls in a half circle, looming. Pretty Girl looked like she wanted to bolt, but then a redheaded Trainee named Danny came up from behind and planted his hands on her shoulders. I’d misread her. Unlike Lilac, this girl was scared. Easily intimidated.
She wouldn’t last a day.
I had to look away. I tried to dismiss her from my mind.
It was past time for me to leave. I piled my cutlery neatly in my bowl. And yet…I didn’t budge.
A strange, new light was burning in Yasuo’s eyes, and it kept drawing my attention, mesmerizing me. I didn’t know what that expression meant. I had to see what he’d do. Who he’d become.
He reached out and pulled one of Curly’s ringlets straight. It sprang back into place as he let go. “Well? Do you have a name? Or are you mute and deaf?”
This wasn’t the Yasuo who’d sat next to me that first day of class, the guy with the spiky mussed hair and the crooked smile. This Yasuo was unsmiling, bitter. His eyes had been drained of their warmth, and for an instant, he looked like a marble version of himself.
This Yasuo was becoming Vampire.
“My name’s Regina.” She gathered up every inch of what I estimated was her five-foot-zero frame and gave her best contemptuous smile.
I could tell it wasn’t practiced, though—she hadn’t been one of those girls in her high school—and I read her story in a flash. It was all in the way she held her shoulders, that flicker in her eye. She’d thought herself a loser back home. Maybe she’d been knocked around like I had, or maybe she just thought about things too much, seeing flaws where there were none, which was kind of like me, too. Either way, the whole thing gave me a painful pang.
“Regina!” Danny crowed. He’d rhymed Regina with vagina—of course he had—the joke exaggerated by his thick British accent.
No friends, I reminded myself. No pity. Just survival. I crumpled my napkin and tossed it on my tray. I wasn’t getting involved this time.
Regina marshaled her expression and spun in her chair to face him. “Like I haven’t heard that before.”
So not the way to deal with this particular problem, Curly. With a quiet sigh, I couldn’t help but pause and watch just a second longer.
Gangly boy bodies closed in, looming over her, blunting the fury in her eyes. But she had spunk, this one, and she snarled, “Go crawl back under your rocks.”
I should’ve left then and there, but it was like watching a train wreck—one that I’d been on before myself. My feet were poised to leave, but my butt was glued to the seat. Here it came, in five, four, three…
“Aw, don’t be like that.” A Trainee named Colin plopped down at the table. He was blond and cute, looking like the high school star quarterback.
I hated Colin.
“We’re the welcoming committee,” he added, and something about his lizardy grin morphed him from high-school-quarterback into high-school-quarterback-who-buried-victims-in-the-backyard.
Bingo. That was my cue. I scooted back my chair. Outta here.
I picked up my tray, but Rob had appeared at my shoulder. “Acari Drew,” he said, using my official term of address. I might have ascended to Initiate, but I’d still be called Acari, at least until the time when—or rather, if—I survived to become Guidon. Acari—the word itself originally meant a subclass of bloodsucking arachnid, as though we girls were ticks, and Rob had enunciated it like he wanted to remind me of this fact.
He slammed my tray back down again. “Going so soon?”
CHAPTER FOUR
“Actually,” I said, “I was thinking I’d skip this particular party.”
Keeping his hand planted where it was, Rob eased into the chair next to me. “But we’re just getting started.”
“And I was just finishing.” I tried to tug my tray back, but his hand was splayed across the black fiberglass, my fork tilting up under the pressure of his palm. I gave up and let go—there’d be no battle of strength with these guys. Ever. I’d always be the weaker one, and I hated it.
He slid the tray away, grinning at me like he’d read my mind. “That’s right. You’re gonna stick around here with us for a little while instead.”
I was in it now. I’d learned there were times to show fear, and this wasn’t one of them. “What’s your problem anyway?”