Chapter 12
WHEN I SHOWED UP for my dinner date, Brayden was sitting at a booth with a laptop. “I got here early,” he explained. “Figured I should get in some work. Did you get yours done?”
“I did, actually. I was researching self-defense classes. You won’t believe what I found.”
I sat down on his side of the booth so that I could use his laptop. Like usual, he smelled like coffee. I’d never get tired of that, I decided. I directed him to a website I’d found just before coming here. The site looked like one I could have made about ten years ago and had a lot of over-the-top animated images on it. Wolfe School of Defense – Malachi Wolfe, instructor.
“Really?” Brayden asked. “Malachi Wolfe?”
“He can’t help his name,” I said. “And look—he’s actually got a number of awards and commendations.” Some of the awards were even recent. Most were from at least a few years ago. “Here’s the best part.”
I clicked on a link entitled “Upcoming Classes.” Malachi Wolfe had a pretty busy schedule, but there was one promising part. He was holding a four-week class, starting tomorrow, that met once a week.
“This isn’t exactly the kind of instructor I’d had in mind,” I admitted, “but it starts right away.”
“Not a very long course,” added Brayden. “But it’d give you a good intro. Why the interest?”
An image of the alley flashed back into my mind, the figures in the dark and the helpless feeling as I was shoved against the wall. My breath started to catch, and I had to remind myself that I was no longer in the alley. I was in a well-lit restaurant, with a boy who liked me. I was safe.
“Just, uh, something I feel it’s important for a woman to learn,” I said. “Although… it’s open to men and women both.”
“Trying to sign me up?” At first I thought he was being serious, but when I looked up, he was smiling.
I grinned. “If you want. I was thinking of—my brother. He wants to do this too.”
“Probably best if I don’t. Although, I was going to take martial arts as a college elective.” Brayden shut off his laptop, and I moved back over to the other side of the booth. “Anyway, you’ve got a pretty tight-knit family. Not sure if I should force myself into that.”
“Probably a smart idea,” I agreed, thinking that he didn’t know the half of it.
Dinner was good, as was our subsequent conversation about thermodynamics. Despite the compelling topic, however, I found my mind was wandering a lot. I had to keep tuning back into what Brayden was saying. The attack and Adrian’s offhand comment about vampire hunters had given me a lot to think about.
Still, we stayed at the restaurant for a long time. So much so that when we left, I saw it was completely dark. I wasn’t parked that far away—and not even in a remote spot—but suddenly, the anticipation of a walk alone in the dark made me freeze up. Brayden was saying something about seeing me at the dance and then noticed my reaction.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“I…” I stared off down the street. Two blocks. That’s how close my car was. There were people out. And yet, I was choking up. “Would you walk me to my car?”
“Sure,” he said. He didn’t even think twice about it, but I was mortified the entire way. As I’d told Eddie and Adrian, I didn’t usually need help from others. Needing it for something like this was especially humiliating. Rose wouldn’t need an escort, I thought. Even Angeline wouldn’t. She’d probably beat up a few pedestrians on the way, just to stay in practice.
“Here we are,” said Brayden, once we reached Latte. I wondered if he thought less of me for needing an escort.
“Thanks. I’ll see you Saturday?”
He nodded. “You sure you want to meet there? I can pick you up.”
“I know. And I wouldn’t mind going in your car. No offense, Latte.” I gave the car’s side a comforting pat. “But I’ll have to drive my brother and sister. Easier this way.”
“Okay,” he said. The smile he gave me was almost shy, contrasting with his earlier confidence in academic topics. “Can’t wait to see your costume. I got mine from a theatrical company. Not an ideal reproduction of Athenian garb, of course, but the best I could find.”
I’d nearly forgotten that I’d left my costume in the hands of Lia. Brayden wasn’t the only one interested in seeing what I’d be wearing.
“Looking forward to it,” I said.
After a few moments, I wondered why he wasn’t leaving. He still wore that shyness and uncertainty, as though he were trying to work up the nerve to say something. Only, as it turned out, speaking wasn’t what he wanted to do. With a great show of courage, he stepped forward and kissed me. It was nice, though once again a little underwhelming.
From the look on Brayden’s face, however, he might have been sent to new heights. Why didn’t I have the same reaction? Maybe I’d done something wrong after all. Or maybe I was deficient?
“See you Saturday,” he said.
I made a mental note to add kissing to my list of research topics.
I got back to Amberwood and texted Adrian as I was walking into my dorm. There’s a defense class that starts tomorrow night. $75. Despite his interest last night, I was a little skeptical of whether he’d snapped out of his depression enough to be up for something like this. I wasn’t even sure if he was going to his art classes anymore. A minute later, I got his answer: I’ll be there. This was followed by another text: Can u spot me the cash?
Jill was walking into the dorm, just as I was, both of us barely getting in before curfew. She didn’t even notice me and instead looked troubled and pensive. “Hey,” I called. “Jill?”
She stopped halfway through the lobby and blinked in surprise upon seeing me. “Oh, hey. Were you out with your boyfriend?”
I winced. “Not sure I’d call him that yet.”
“How many times have you gone out?”
“Four.”
“He’s taking you to the dance?”
“I’m meeting him there.”
She shrugged. “Sounds like a boyfriend to me.”
“Sounds like you’re quoting something from Kristin and Julia’s dating guidebook.”
That brought a fleeting smile, but it didn’t last. “I think it’s just common sense.”
I studied her, still trying to get a feel for her mood. “Are you okay? You looked like something was bothering you. Is it… is it Adrian? Is he still upset?” For a moment, I was actually more worried about Adrian than her.
“No,” she said. “I mean, well, yes. But he’s a little better. He’s excited about learning self-defense with you.” The bond would never cease to amaze me. I’d only communicated with Adrian a minute ago.
“‘Excited?’” I asked. That seemed like an astonishingly strong reaction.
“It’s a distraction. And a distraction’s the best thing for him in these moods,” she explained. “He is still upset, though. He’s still depressed over his dad.”
“I shouldn’t have taken him to San Diego,” I murmured, more to myself than her. “If I’d refused, he wouldn’t have been able to get there.”
Jill looked skeptical. “I don’t know. I think he would’ve found a way, with or without you. What happened between them was going to happen eventually.” She sounded remarkably wise.
“I just feel terrible seeing Adrian like this,” I said.
“These moods come and go for him. Always have.” Jill got a faraway look in her eyes. “He’s laid off the drinking a little bit—for my sake. But then that just opens him up for… well, it’s hard to explain. You know how spirit drives people insane? When he’s down like this and sober, it makes him more vulnerable.”
“Are you saying Adrian’s going crazy?” That was not a complication I was ready for.
“No, not exactly.” She pursed her lips as she thought. “He just gets a little scattered… weird. You’ll know it when you see it. He kind of makes sense but kind of not. Gets dreamy and rambles. But not in the way I do. It’s got like a—I don’t know—mystical feel. But it’s not actually magical. It’s just him kind of… losing it temporarily. It never lasts and, like I said, you’ll know it when you see it.”
“I think I might have…” An unexpected memory flashed back to me, of just before Sonya and Dimitri had arrived. I’d been at Adrian’s, and he’d looked at me strangely, like he was just noticing me for the first time. Thinking about it still sent chills through me.
My God, Sage. Your eyes. How have I never noticed them? The color… like molten gold. I could paint those…
“Girls?” Mrs. Weathers was at her desk, shutting things down for the night. “You need to get to your rooms.”
We nodded obediently and moved toward the stairs. When we reached Jill’s floor, I stopped her before she could leave. “Hey—if Adrian’s not the problem, then what was bothering you when you came in? Is everything okay?”
“Huh? Oh, that.” She flushed in a cute kind of way. “Yeah. I guess. I don’t know. Micah… um, well, he kissed me tonight. For the first time. And I guess I was just kind of surprised at how I felt about it.”
I was surprised they hadn’t kissed before and supposed I should be grateful. Her words resonated with me. “What do you mean? Did it feel a lot less exciting than you expected? Like you were just touching someone’s lips? Like you were kissing a relative?”
She gave me a puzzled look. “No. That’s crazy. Why would you think that?”
“Um, just guessing.” I suddenly felt silly. Why had it felt that way for me?
“It was great, actually.” A faraway look came over her. “Well, almost. I couldn’t quite get into it as much as I wanted because I was worried about my fangs. It’s easy to hide them talking and smiling. But not while kissing. And all I kept thinking was, ‘What am I going to say if he notices?’ And then I started thinking about what you and everyone else said. About how this thing with Micah isn’t a good idea and how I can’t keep things hands-off forever. I like him. I like him a lot. But not enough to risk exposing the Moroi… or endanger Lissa.”
“That’s a noble attitude.”
“I guess. I don’t want to end things yet, though. Micah’s so nice… and I love all the friends I’ve made by being with him. I guess I’ll just see what happens… but it’s hard. It’s a wake-up call.” She looked so sad as she went into her room.
Continuing on to mine, I felt bad for Jill… but at the same time, I was relieved. I’d stressed over her casual dating of Micah, worried we’d be facing some dramatic, romantic situation where she refused to give him up because their love was too great and transcended their races. Instead, I should have had more faith in her. She wasn’t as immature as I sometimes thought. Jill was going to realize the truth and resolve this on her own.
Her words about Adrian also stuck with me, particularly when I picked him up the next evening for our first self-defense class. He got into my car with a cheery attitude, seeming neither depressed nor crazy. He was, I noticed, dressed very nicely, in clothes that would have been an excellent choice for the visit to his father. He noticed my attire as well.
“Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in anything so… casual.” I had on olive green yoga pants and an Amberwood T-shirt.
“The class description said to dress in comfortable workout clothes—like I texted you earlier.” I gave his raw silk shirt a meaningful look.
“This is very comfortable,” he assured me. “Besides, I don’t own any workout clothes.”
As I shifted the car into drive, I caught sight of Adrian’s left hand. At first, I thought he was bleeding. Then, I realized it was red paint.
“You’re painting again,” I said in delight. “I thought you’d stopped.”
“Yeah, well. You can’t take painting classes and not paint, Sage.”
“I thought you’d stopped those too.”
He gave me a sidelong glance. “Nearly did. But then I remembered I’d convinced some girl that if she gave me a chance and got me into those classes, I’d follow through on them. That’ll teach me.”
I smiled and pulled into traffic.
I’d left a little early so that Adrian and I had time to take care of our registration. When I’d called the Wolfe School of Defense earlier today, an agitated man had told me to just show up with the money since we were down to the last minute. The address was outside of downtown, in a residence set on sprawling grounds that had made no attempts to go green and thwart the climate. The desert still held claim here, giving the house a dismal, forlorn look. If not for WOLFE printed on the mailbox, I would’ve thought we had the wrong place. We pulled up into the gravel drive—no other cars were there—and stared.
“This is the kind of place you see in movies,” said Adrian. “Where careless people run into serial killers.”
“At least it’s still light out,” I said. Ever since the alley, darkness had taken on a whole new menace for me. “Can’t be that bad.”
Adrian opened the car door. “Let’s find out.”
We rang the doorbell and were immediately met with the sounds of barking and scampering feet. I stepped back uneasily. “I hate poorly trained dogs,” I muttered to Adrian. “They need to behave and be kept in line.”
“Just like the people in your life, huh?” asked Adrian.
The door opened, and we were met by a fifty-something man with a grizzled blond beard. He was wearing Bermuda shorts and a Lynyrd Skynyrd T-shirt. Also, he had an eye patch.
“This is incredible,” I heard Adrian murmur. “Beyond my wildest dreams.”
I was taken aback. The eye patch made me think of Keith’s glass eye, which in turn made me think of my role in him acquiring it. It wasn’t a memory I liked being reminded of, and I wondered at the odds of running into another one-eyed man. This guy nudged the herd of dogs aside—which appeared to be some sort of Chihuahua mix—and barely managed to step outside without them following before he shut the door.
“Yeah?” he asked.
“We’re, uh, here for the class. The self-defense class.” I felt the need to clarify, in case he also taught about dog breeding or riding the high seas. “I’m Sydney, this is Adrian. I called this morning?”
“Ah, right, right.” He scratched his beard. “You got the money? Cash only.”
I produced one hundred and fifty dollars and handed it over. Out of habit, I nearly asked for a receipt, but then thought better of it. He stuffed the cash into the pocket of his shorts.
“Okay,” he said. “You’re in. Go ahead and wait in the garage until the others show up. The side door’s unlocked.” He gestured to a large, industrial looking building—twice the size of the house—over on the far side of the lot. Without waiting around to see if we’d comply, he slipped back inside to the barking dogs.
The garage’s interior, I was relieved to see, was the first thing here that looked like it had some semblance of legitimacy. There were clean mats on the floor and mirrors on some of the walls. A TV and VHS player sat on a cart, along with some defense-related tapes covered in dust. Slightly more disconcerting was some of the decor, like a pair of nunchucks hanging on the wall.
“Don’t touch those!” I warned, seeing Adrian head toward them. “That’s not the kind of guy whose stuff you want to mess with.”
Adrian stayed hands-off. “Do you think we’ll get to learn to use these?”
“Weapons weren’t in the class description. It’s about basic self-defense and hand-to-hand.”
“Why bother then?” Adrian strolled over to a glass case displaying several types of brass knuckles. “That’s the kind of stuff Castile does all day. He could have showed us.”
“I wanted someone a little more approachable,” I explained.
“What, like Captain McTropicalShorts back there? Where on earth did you find him anyway?”
“Just did an Internet search.” Feeling a need to defend my research, I added, “He comes highly recommended.”
“By who? Long John Silver?” Despite myself, I laughed.
Over the next half hour, the rest of our class trickled in. One was a woman who looked to be about seventy. Another was a mother who’d just had her fourth child and decided she needed to “learn to protect them.” The last two women in the class were in their mid-twenties and wore T-shirts with angry girl-power catchphrases. Adrian and I were the youngest in the group. He was the only man, not counting our instructor, who asked that we simply refer to him as Wolfe.
I was beginning to get a bad feeling about all of this, particularly as class started. The six of us sat on the floor while Wolfe leaned against one of the mirrors and looked down upon us. “If you’re here,” he began. “You probably want to learn to use those right away.” He pointed at the nunchucks.
I caught sight of Adrian’s face in the mirror. His expression said, Yes, that is exactly what I want to learn.
“Well, too bad,” said Wolfe. “You aren’t ever going to use them. Not in this class, anyway. Oh, they’ve got their uses, believe me. Saved my ass more than once when I was out bow-hunting in Alaska a few years ago. But if you pay attention to what I’m going to tell you, you won’t ever need to pick those up, seeing as we don’t have a rabid moose problem here in Palm Springs.”
The new mom raised her hand. “You used nunchucks on a moose?”
Wolfe got a haunted look in his eyes. “I used all sorts of things on that bastard. But that’s neither here nor now. Because here’s the thing. With a little common sense, you won’t need weapons. Or fists. You.”
To my shock, Wolfe pointed at me and fixed me with a steely, one-eyed stare.
“What did I tell you to do when you arrived?”
I gulped. “Give you cash, sir.”
“And after that?”
“You told us to come wait out here.”
He nodded in satisfaction, so apparently my answering of the obvious had gone well. “We’re two miles from any other houses and about a mile from the highway. You don’t know me, and let’s face it, this place looks like something from a serial killer film.” Out of the corner of my eye, Adrian flashed me a triumphant look. “I sent you out into a remote building with hardly any windows. You went inside. Did you look around as you were walking over here? Did you scan the surroundings in here before coming all the way inside? Did you check the exits?”
“I—”
“No, of course you didn’t,” he interrupted. “No one ever does. And that is the first rule of self-defense. Don’t assume anything. You don’t have to live your life in fear, but know what’s around you. Be smart. Don’t go blindly into dark alleys or parking lots.”
And like that, I was hooked.
Wolfe was astonishingly well prepared. He had lots of stories and examples of attacks, ones that kept reminding me: humans are some of the most vicious creatures out there, not vampires. He showed us pictures and diagrams of various unsafe places, pointing out vulnerabilities and providing pretty practical advice that should’ve been obvious to most people—but wasn’t. The more he spoke, the more foolish I felt about what had happened with Sonya. If those guys had wanted to attack Sonya badly enough, they would’ve found a way somehow. But there were a million things I could have done to be more cautious and possibly avoid the confrontation that went down that night. That idea turned out to be a huge part of Wolfe’s philosophy: avoidance of danger in the first place.
Even when he finally moved on to discuss some very basic moves, his emphasis was on using them to get away—not to stick around and beat your attacker into the ground. He let us practice some of these moves in the last half hour of the class, having us pair up to work with classmates and a dummy since we didn’t really want to hurt each other.
“Thank God,” said Adrian, when we broke out to practice. He and I were partners. “I thought I’d come to a fight class to learn how not to fight.”
“But he’s right,” I said. “If you can avoid the fight, so much the better.”
“But what if you can’t?” asked Adrian. “Like with your sword-wielding friends? What do you do once you’re in trouble?”
I tapped our blank-faced stuffed practice dummy. “That’s what this is for.”
Wolfe’s main move today was on how to break out of someone’s hold if we were grabbed from behind. He had a couple of techniques which weren’t much more complex than head-butting or stomping on feet. Adrian and I took turns being the attacker while the victim practiced the maneuvers—in slow motion and with almost no contact on our partners. That was what the dummies were for. I was about five inches shorter than Adrian and seemed pretty implausible as an attacker, which made us both laugh each time I made a move. Wolfe chastised us for not being serious enough but gave us high marks for learning the techniques.
This made me feel a little arrogant, enough so that when Adrian turned his back to get a water bottle, I sneaked up from behind and flung my arms around him, pinning his arms in turn. Wolfe had shown us how to break that type of hold, and I honestly thought Adrian had seen me coming enough to slip away before I even touched him. Apparently not. He froze, and for one moment, we stood locked in time. I could feel the silk of his shirt against my skin and the warmth of his body. The lingering scent of the overpriced cologne he wore floated around me. No smoke for a change. I’d always told him the cologne couldn’t be worth what he spent, but suddenly, I reconsidered. It was amazing.
I was so awash in sensory overload that I was caught completely unaware when he did push me away.
“What are you doing?” he exclaimed. I’d thought he’d be impressed at my sneak attack, but there was neither approval nor humor on his face. My own smile faded.
“Testing if you could handle a surprise attack.” My tone was hesitant. I didn’t know what I’d done wrong. He looked uncomfortable. Almost upset. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing,” he said gruffly. For a moment his eyes locked onto me with an intensity that left me breathless. Then, he glanced away, as though he couldn’t handle looking at me. I felt more confused than ever. “Never thought I’d see the day when you’d throw your arms around a vam—someone like me.”
I barely even noticed his public slipup. His words drew me up short. He was right. I’d touched him without even thinking about it—and not just a formal Moroi handshake, like usual. Sure, it was in the context of our class, but I knew that I never could have done this a few months ago. Touching him now had seemed perfectly natural. Was that why he was upset? Was he worried about the Alchemists and me?
Wolfe strolled by. “Nice work, girl.” He gave Adrian a teeth-rattling slap on the back. “You were totally unprepared for her.”
This seemed to distress Adrian even more, and I could’ve sworn I heard him mutter, “That’s for damned sure.”
Some of Adrian’s swagger returned during the car ride home, but he was still quiet and thoughtful. I again tried to figure out his shift in mood. “Do you need to stop by Clarence’s for blood?” Maybe the class had exhausted him.
“Nah,” he said. “Don’t want you to be late. But maybe… maybe you can come by this weekend, and we can do a group trip over there?”
“I’ve got the dance on Saturday,” I said apologetically. “And I think Sonya was going to take Jill to Clarence’s tomorrow after school. Probably she can pick you up too.”
“I suppose,” he said. He sounded disappointed, but one day wasn’t that long to wait for blood. Maybe he was afraid Sonya would recruit him for experiments again—which wouldn’t be a bad thing, I thought. Suddenly, he straightened up from his slouch. “Speaking of Sonya… I was thinking of something earlier. Something Wolfe said.”
“Why, Adrian. Were you paying attention after all?”
“Don’t start, Sage,” he warned. “Wolfe’s crazy, and you know it. But when he was giving all his words of wisdom, he mentioned that stuff about not giving out personal info to strangers and how victims are often staked out in advance. Remember?”
“Yeah, I was there,” I said. “Like, an hour ago.”
“Right, so. Those guys who attacked you and Sonya seemed to know she was a vampire—the wrong kind, but still. The fact that they showed up with a sword implies they did some research. I mean, it’s possible they just noticed her on the street one day and were like, ‘Ooh, vampire.’ But maybe they’ve been watching her for a while.”
Noticed her on the street… I gasped as a million pieces fell into place in my mind at once. “Adrian, you’re a genius.”
He flinched in surprise. “Wait. What?”
“The week before the attack. Sonya and I got dinner, and we were stopped by some random guy who claimed he knew her from Kentucky. She was pretty freaked out because she was a Strigoi the whole time she was there, and obviously, she didn’t hang out with humans a lot back then.”
Adrian took a few moments to turn this over in his mind. “So… you’re saying they’ve been checking into her for a while.”
“Actually, you’re saying that.”
“Right. Because I’m a genius.” More silence as we both considered the implications of Sonya’s situation. When Adrian spoke again, his tone wasn’t nearly so light. “Sage… last night. You never acknowledged my comment about vampire hunters.”
“The Alchemists have no records of modern vampire hunters,” I said automatically. “My dad once said that occasionally, some random human discovers the truth. I’d figured her attack was something like that—not some huge organized group or conspiracy.”
“Is it remotely possible that somehow, somewhere, the Alchemists might have missed something? And what do you mean by ‘modern’ exactly?”
Alchemist history had been drilled into me nearly as much as the philosophies that governed our actions. “A long time ago—like, back in the Middle Ages—when the Alchemists were forming, a lot of factions had different ideas on how to deal with vampires. Nobody thought humans should associate with them. Those who eventually formed my group decided the best way was to work with Moroi just enough to keep them separate from humans. But there were others who didn’t take that approach. They thought the best way to keep humans free was to eradicate vampires—through any means.” I was relying on facts again, my old armor. If I reasoned away this argument, then I wouldn’t have to acknowledge what it would mean if there were people actively hunting Moroi.
“Sounds like vampire hunters to me,” Adrian pointed out.
“Yes, but they weren’t successful. There were just too many vampires, Moroi and Strigoi, for a group like this to take out. The last records we have of them are from, oh, I’d say the Renaissance. Those hunters eventually faded away.” Even I heard the uncertainty in my voice.
“You said that sword had alchemy symbols on it.”
“Old ones.”
“Old enough to be from the time that splinter group was breaking away?”
I sighed. “Yes. That old.”
I wanted to close my eyes and sink into my seat. Cracks were appearing in my armor. I still wasn’t entirely sure I could accept the idea of vampire hunters, but I could no longer rule out their possibility.
I could see Adrian studying me out of the corner of my eye. “Why the sigh?”
“Because this is all stuff I should have put together sooner.”
He seemed very pleased at the acknowledgment. “Well, you don’t believe in vampire hunters. Makes it hard to really consider them an actual threat when you operate in a world of facts and data, huh? But then… how would they have stayed under your radar for so long?”
Now that Adrian had given me the seeds, my mind was already working out the idea. “Because they’re only killing Strigoi—if these hunters exist. If some group were taking out Moroi, your people would notice. The Strigoi aren’t organized the same way, and even if they noticed, it’s not like they’re going to report killings to us. Plus, Strigoi are killed all the time by Moroi and dhampirs. A few dead ones would just be written off to you guys—if anyone even found them. Toss a Strigoi out in the sun, and you’d never even know they’d been there.” Relief poured through me at my conclusion. If a group like this did exist, they couldn’t be killing Moroi. Strigoi-hunting was still dangerous, however. Only Alchemists could be trusted to deal with those fiends’ deaths and keep them secret from average humans.
“Could you ask other Alchemists about hunters?” Adrian asked.
“No, not yet. I might be able to dig through some records, but I could never bring this up officially. They’d stick to my dad’s theory—that it was just some random, weird group of humans. Then they’d laugh me away.”
“You know who wouldn’t laugh you away?”
“Clarence,” we both said in unison.
“Not a conversation I look forward to,” I said wearily. “But he might really know something after all. And all his paranoia might pay off. All that home security? If this group really has it in their heads to come after Sonya, then she might be in even more danger than we realized.”
“We need to tell Belikov. He excels at that protection thing. He won’t sleep if we convince him she’s in trouble—which seems likely after the sword attack.” I noticed that this was the first time Adrian had ever spoken about Dimitri without bitterness. In fact, Adrian’s words and praise sounded legitimate. He did believe in Dimitri’s skill. I said nothing about my observation, though. If Adrian was going to get over his hatred of Dimitri, it needed to come gradually and without any outside “help.”
I dropped Adrian off with plans to talk later. When I got back to Amberwood, I was immediately flagged down by Mrs. Weathers. What now? I was ready to hear that Angeline had set something on fire. Instead, Mrs. Weathers’s face looked calm—pleasant, even—and I dared to hope for the best.
“Some things came for you, dear,” she said. From a small office behind her desk, she produced two hangers with zipped garment bags on them. “A short, energetic woman dropped these off.”
“Lia.” I took the hangers, wondering what contents I’d find inside. “Thank you.”
I started to turn away, but Mrs. Weathers spoke again. “One more thing. Ms. Terwilliger left something for you too.”
I tried to keep my face neutral. I was already drowning in Ms. Terwilliger’s latest assignments. What now? Mrs. Weathers handed me a large envelope that felt like it had a book in it. Scrawled on the outer side was: Not classwork. Maybe you won’t hate this. I thanked Mrs. Weathers again and took my haul up to my room. After depositing the costumes on my bed unopened, I promptly tore into the envelope. Something about her note made me feel uneasy.
I wasn’t entirely surprised to see it was another spell book. What did surprise me was that unlike the others I pored over for her, this one was new. Modern. There was no publisher listed on it, so it was probably someone’s home project, but it had clearly been printed and bound within the last few years. That was startling. I’d pointedly never asked Ms. Terwilliger about her magic-using pals and their lifestyle but had always assumed they were reading the dusty old volumes she had me translate and copy. That they might be working from their own, new, and updated books hadn’t even crossed my mind—though it should have.
I had no time to beat myself up, though, not once I got a look at the book’s title. The Invisible Dagger: Practical Spells for Offense and Defense. Flipping through the pages, I saw that the spells were exactly as the title suggested but written in a more modern way than I was used to. Their origins were cited, times and places. Those varied wildly, but what didn’t was the spells’ efficiency. All were either the kind of spells that could be cast in very little time or ones that could be made in advance for immediate destructive effects—like the fire charm.
These were exactly the kinds of spells I’d been asking Ms. Terwilliger about.
Angry, I stuffed the book back in the envelope. How dare she try to lure me in with this? Did she think this would make up for everything she’d put me through? Mrs. Weathers would still be downstairs, and I had half a mind to drop the book off and tell her it had been sent to me in error. Or I could simply leave it on Ms. Terwilliger’s desk first thing in the morning. I wished now I hadn’t even opened it. “Returning to sender” unopened would have made a powerful statement, that she wasn’t going to trick me into her magic ring by finding a topic of interest to me.
Mrs. Weathers knew about my connection to Ms. Terwilliger, though, and would simply tell me to return it tomorrow if I tried giving it back tonight. So, I’d have to hang on to this until the morning. I consoled myself by getting out some tape. I couldn’t undo opening the envelope, but there’d be something psychologically soothing about resealing it.
Yet, as I started to unwind the tape, my mind spun back to my evening with Adrian and Wolfe. Wolfe had calmed me a bit in his constant reminders that most attacks were random and came from carelessness on the victim’s part. Knowing that and what to look for had made me feel empowered. He’d offhandedly mentioned attacks of a more premeditated or personal nature, but those clearly weren’t his focus. Nonetheless, they brought me back to my discussion with Adrian. What if there was truth to Clarence’s stories? What if vampire hunters were real? We’d all known Sonya’s attack wasn’t random, but if she really was dealing with some faction that had existed since the Middle Ages… well, then. My and Adrian’s fears would be correct. They would probably come for her again. No amount of avoiding isolated parking spots or walking confidently would stop them.
I looked down at the envelope and decided not to seal it quite yet.