Shadow Lake Vampire Society - Wendi Wilson Page 0,17

We have sixty excited campers that need to have the best two weeks of their lives.”

“Woo!” True said, holding up her fist. When no one joined, she let it slowly slide down, shrugging.

“Yes, woo,” Charles said dryly. “But more than fun, we need to make sure our campers are safe. Safety is our number one priority.”

The dean’s eyes darted, surprisingly, to Levi of all people. It was subtle and fleeting, but I caught it nonetheless. Probably because, despite my best efforts, I was fixated on the mysterious boy.

Why did the dean look at him? Was he the first aid guru?

Or was the dean worried Levi might pose a threat?

As the dean droned on and on about rules and regulations, schedules and safety, my mind kept spinning over the same thought, around and around like a broken record.

If Levi was dangerous, then why was he here, working with sixty vulnerable kids? Right then, I made up my mind. I was going to be keeping a close eye on Levi Kass.

Chapter Seven

“Ugh. I don’t understand why I have to read this again when I already suffered through it last summer.”

I looked up from my own document packet to meet True’s eyes and shrugged. The reading was a bit dry with lists of rules and regulations that anyone using basic common sense would already know. Sprinkled throughout were strange edicts that made zero sense to me, however.

“No camper, counselor, or Camp Shadow Lake employee is to cross the property line into the woods on the north, south, or west sides of the campground,” I quoted, arching a brow at True, who sat next to me on the front porch of our cabin. “I wonder why.”

“I don’t know. Bears, maybe?”

Her tone was light and unconcerned, but her choice of words made my entire body freeze up. My muscles petrified as my heartbeat pounded in my ears. I was breathing too hard, too fast, but there was nothing I could do to slow it down.

I was right back there, under those floorboards, feeling my father’s blood drip onto my face as I lay frozen, doing nothing to save him.

“Piper!”

The urgency in True’s tone snapped me out of the pit of pain I was drowning in, and I focused my gaze on her. I caught myself unintentionally scrubbing a hand down my cheek and jerked it away. It was always the same every time I had a flashback—my hand immediately moved to wipe the imaginary blood I could still feel snaking across my skin in warm, sticky rivulets.

“Are you okay? What is it?”

I shook my head at True’s anxious questions before waving them off. “It’s nothing. I just… zoned out for a minute.”

“Bullshit,” she said, calling me out. “You’re still shaking, and your face is white as a gho—oh, my God. Piper, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sure there aren’t any bears out there. I’m so sorry.”

I held up a palm to halt her string of apologies. When her mouth snapped shut, I reached over and wrapped my hand around hers.

“It’s okay, True. Really. I get these flashbacks, sometimes, and the weirdest things will trigger them. It’s not your fault.”

“What can I do?” she asked, her voice laced with helplessness.

“Just… be normal. I don’t want you to feel like you have to walk on eggshells around me. Okay?”

Her brown eyes speared mine for a moment as if she were searching for something. Any sign of lingering anxiety. Or anger. Or deception. Maybe all three. Then the tension drained from her face, and she smirked.

“Well, I can’t promise I’ll be normal. What’s the fun in that?”

I let out an unexpected bark of laughter, and just like that, the last dregs of fear and torment drained from my body. True’s smirk morphed into a wide, toothy smile as she tapped her rule packet on my knee.

“Let’s get back to this. The sooner we finish, the sooner we can decide which of these ridiculous rules we’re going to break first.”

It took me until dinnertime to finish because True kept making outlandish suggestions on how we could break as many rules as possible.

Rule number three: All campers and counselors must be inside their cabins by ten p.m. and shall not exit before six a.m.

Rule number fourteen: All counselors must abide by the standard dress code. Shorts and skirts must be no more than four inches above the knee. No strapless tops and no two-piece bathing suits for females. Males must wear shirts at