Blood Fever: The watchers (33 page)

She swatted at my leg, glaring at me with almost comically narrowed eyes, but I skipped out of her reach.

“Are those your angry eyes?” I stifled a giggle, hearing the voice of
Toy Story 2
’s Mrs. Potato Head.

“I hate you.”

“I’m sure there’s a club.” I began to step over her hips to straddle her where she lay on the floor, but before I got into position, she cuffed the back of my knee, hooked my ankle, and whipped my foot out from under me. I crashed to the floor, cracking my head against the thin mat.

I rolled upright more quickly than before, angry now. It was wrong of her to catch me unawares during a simple workout, but I hadn’t tucked my chin, and falling incorrectly was definitely my bad. I hated when I messed up, especially in Priti’s class.

“Stop it.” I stepped over her and quickly found my balance, positioned over her. “You’re not even doing the move right.”

She cupped her hands behind my ankles, but I was doing all I could to make it difficult, imagining myself anchored to the floor, and this time it took her a few tries before she could topple me.

I felt Priti’s eyes on me, so finally I let the girl sweep me. I then
popped back to standing, asking sweetly, “Do you need me to give you some pointers?”

Frost and I had been butting heads since we’d found out we were to be placed together as roommates in the Initiate dorm. We both hated the situation—me because Frost was a brownnose with the vampires and the last thing I needed was a snitch roomie, while she just hated me…well…apparently there was a constellation of reasons I was still only beginning to understand.

“I’m doing something right,” she said. “You fell, didn’t you?”

“This is class, not a fight to the death.”

“Kill or be killed,” she said, trying to sound cool.

“So tough.” I rolled my eyes. As if I hadn’t learned
that
lesson already. “Look, I don’t like the new room situation any more than you do.”

Honestly, I blamed much of her attitude on jealousy. Enamored of anything with fangs, the girl fancied herself a bit of a scholar on island matters. But here I was, someone who was considered a genius, who’d also attracted the attention of two of the island’s most notable vampires.

First and foremost, there was Carden McCloud, the swoon-worthy Scottish vampire I’d bonded with. Nobody knew just how intense our relationship really was, but there was no hiding the fact that we spent a lot of time together. Increasingly, his eyes gleamed with lust—and somehow even more unsettling, fondness—when he looked at me.

Then there was Hugo de Rosas Alcántara. I detested the ancient Spanish vampire, but I was undeniably obsessed with him, too. My best friend, Emma, was dead, and I blamed
him
. The dream of revenge had become the thing that spurred me to get out of bed in the morning. It was what drove my workouts. What
kept me up at night. It might take me years to exact my vengeance, but I would have it.

“Time for holds,” Priti called, and her bell-like voice momentarily elevated the place into something more transcendent than just a stinky, sweat-stained gym. Her lithe grace promised a female power that I, too, might carry inside, though I had yet to access it fully. “On the floor, little birds. Time to grapple.”

Everyone dropped to their knees, awaiting her next instruction.

“Begin in the cross-side position. Five minutes. Go.”

I moved quickly, pinning Frost on her back before she had a chance to get up. “How about I go first?” Draping my body across hers, I began to go through the rote moves we’d learned.

“This is such a joke,” Frost said, snarling. She bucked her hips, and I lurched forward, releasing my grip to catch myself before my nose crunched into the mat. “I can’t believe they put me with you.”

I felt Priti standing close by but out of view. She chuckled. “Ladies, please don’t kill each other.”

“We won’t,” I said, but my eyes on Frost added a silent
yet
. I stole a glimpse of the girls next to us, going through their moves in a way that rehearsed mechanics, not gave bloody noses.

I resumed my original position, lying across her body, putting her in a hold. “You just can’t stand that the vampires like me.” I tilted my head, whispering for her ears alone, “More than you.”

She let out a feline snarl and grabbed my arm. “No.” Her nails dug into me as she wrenched my elbow to her chest, thrusting her hips and flipping me onto my back. “I can’t stand you because you think you’re better than everyone else.” She straddled me, pinning my shoulders with her knees. “You think you know so
much. But guess what, Drew?” Little bits of spittle flew from her mouth, and I squinted against the onslaught. “I know more.”

The girl was making this a real fight and it was pissing me off. “You need to learn,
Audra
.” I hooked a foot around hers, propelled my hips upward, and flipped her back under me. “All this posturing just smells desperate. Vampires hate desperate.”

“Is that what you told Emma?” She wrapped her legs around my waist, hooking her feet at my back, but she was unable to get leverage.

“Screw you.” We were grappling hard now, but our strength and size were well matched. She bucked and squirmed, but I held on, keeping her pinned. “Don’t you dare mention Emma.”

“You think you’re the teacher’s pet.” She shifted her weight, and I just barely escaped a choke hold.

“There’s always Master Dagursson,” I said sweetly, referring to the remarkably unattractive ancient Viking vampire. “He
loves
you.”

“You think you’re better than everyone else.”

“Maybe I am.”

“You think you’re the vampires’ little darling.” She wrenched her legs up and cinched them around my neck. “But I know better.”

I smacked her repeatedly, the universal sparring language for
Stop killing me
, but there was no stopping her.

“You killed Emma,” she said.

I rolled to my side, forcing her legs to unclench, and sucked in a breath. “A vampire killed Emma. I didn’t kill Emma.”

But deep down I worried I did. Deep down, I tormented myself with thoughts that I could’ve done more. How I might’ve sacrificed myself to somehow save her.

The memory of her body, limp in Alcántara’s arms, brought
fresh rage and anguish. Power shot through me, and I broke Frost’s hold, flinging her away as though she weighed nothing. “Get the hell off me, freak.”

“Your roommates are cursed.” She crouched on her hands and knees, and I could see her mind working furiously, looking for her chance to pounce. “I refuse to be run off to the castle like Emma was just because you’re some vampire’s pet.”

I froze. “What did you just say?”

But she’d frozen, too. “Nothing.”

“Was she still alive when they took her?” The words came out slowly, a chill creeping over my body.

“You saw her,” she replied, giving me a nonanswer, but her eyes betrayed the secret she’d spilled.

I pressed. “They took Emma to the castle?”

“How should I know?”

I could tell she was lying. Frost didn’t want to be
run off to the castle
.

Like Emma.

What happened to my friend after Alcántara slashed her down the middle? As they did with all the fallen girls, Tracers had come into the ring and taken her away.

I thought of the vampire’s castle, a hulking granite keep looming silently beyond the standing stones. Was that where they took her body? If so, for what purpose?

Was it possible Emma still lived, enduring Alcántara’s torture?

I needed to go, to find a way into the castle to see for myself. I wouldn’t rest until I uncovered the truth. I would find out what happened to Emma, and then I would have my revenge. I’d expose Alcántara’s hideous secrets.

And then I would take him down.

Like her heroine,
Veronica Wolff
braved an all-girls school, traveled to faraway places, and studied lots of languages. She was not, however, ever trained as an assassin (or so she claims). In real life, she’s most often found on a beach or in the mountains of northern California, but you can always find her online at
veronicawolff.com
.