Crossroads (Crossroads Academy #1) (2 page)

“Correct. No school of repute would accept a
transfigured student. Really, it would be a rarity for any youth to
be able to withstand the blood lust anyway. Our kind is genetically
predisposed to the sete de sange, and still it takes tremendous
restraint to control it during the onset,” she states
matter-of-factly. “The existence of a young mixed-blood is pretty
rare. Most have to be put down, and, therefore, the turning of a
young human is considered taboo.” By taboo I’m pretty sure she
means punishable by death. I fight the urge to ask and am relieved
when Anya continues her explanation before I succumb to the sarcasm
bubbling within.

“Most of our students come to us a little
younger than you, Katia,” she goes on thoughtfully. “They spend
years with us, earning privileges through discipline and hard work.
Due to your unique circumstances and Aldo’s position as head of the
Elder’s Council, you have been granted special consideration. As a
first year student, you will have a single dormitory and off campus
privileges.”

I am surprised at this revelation, though I
realize I should have expected it. Aldo would have paved the way
for me, using his position on the Consiliul de Batrani to ensure
that my transition is seamless. Normally this show of power would
make me uncomfortable, but in this case, since it allows me
additional freedom, I can’t really complain. Being so far from the
manor, and ultimately Aldo and Lissette, is going to be hard
enough. Being confined to the campus for the next ten months would
have been downright torture. I make a mental note to thank Aldo for
the millionth time when he calls.

Anya carries on, her voice taking on an
urgent tone. “Be cautious in how you exercise these privileges,
Katia. Crossroads does not tolerate mistakes well, so be sure you
are within the parameters of the school guidelines at all times.
There will be many eyes on you due to your proximity to Aldo and
your history.”

I frown. I haven’t given much thought to how
Aldo’s great niece would be received. I suppose that on some level
I knew there would be curiosity and gossip. After all, Aldo is the
single most powerful vampire on the Council, and, until a few
months ago, my existence was virtually unknown. I shrug it off. The
only thing that matters is that I make Aldo proud and do nothing to
jeopardize his reputation.

“Point taken,” I reply sincerely. I can’t
concern myself with the petty nonsense of others my age. Been
there, done that, not going back. I am here to fulfill my oath to
Aldo, nothing more.

“I’ve placed your schedule, a campus map, a
rule book, and pretty much everything else you’ll need to survive
the first couple of days in that file.” Anya nods, indicating a
manila folder lying on the back seat. Curious about my course load,
I grab the folder and review the schedule with ravenous eyes.

“Sociology, Beginner’s Mixed Martial Arts and
Self Defense, Historical Perspectives, English Literature,
Government and Politics, Biology, Yoga & Meditation, and
Advanced Calculus,” I read aloud. Bummer. Aside from the martial
arts class, there isn’t anything on this schedule that wouldn’t
appear on the typical high school students’. And here I’d thought I
was going to dodge Calculus.

“I apologize if some of these courses seem
pretty basic. Despite your late start, you will need to complete
the same course work as any Crossroads student in order to
graduate. I did manage to get the MMA class added at Aldo’s
request. He thought you’d enjoy that.” She smiles knowingly.
Apparently Aldo’s told her about my need to blow off steam by
regularly kicking a little butt in the gym.

“No, it’s great,” I reply, thinking that this
schedule will keep me busy.

“It’s a heavy schedule, Katia. If you get
into trouble just let me know. Also, there’s one additional
requirement that’s not listed. You and I will have a standing
meeting every Wednesday evening at 7 p.m. for counseling.”

My stomach drops. “Oh?” I hope my voice
doesn’t betray the disdain I feel. Anya seems nice enough, and I
know it’s her job to counsel students, but I’m not exactly in a
position to open up about my feelings to her or anyone else.
There’s just too much at stake, too great a chance of slipping up.
Besides, it’s not like she’d really get it anyway. She couldn’t
possibly understand what I’ve been through. No one can.

“Katia, I know that the last year has been
hard for you, and I know that you’ve been through a lot.” She
pauses, appearing to consider her next words carefully. “Aldo has
seen fit to entrust me with your safety and well-being, and I hope
that you’ll do the same,” she finishes, resting her cool hand on
mine. “You can trust me.”

“I know,” I lie, twisting a strand of hair
idly between my fingers, as I glance out the window. The forest
flies past. It reminds me of finger painting as a child. The shades
of brown and green bleed together creating one indiscernible
palate. It’s impossible to distinguish one tree from the next.
Pushing aside the lure of the forest, I shift my gaze from the
window back to Anya. Aldo trusts her, and that means a lot. Still,
I’m torn. I don’t question Aldo’s judgment, just my own. I will not
allow myself to be vulnerable to Anya or anyone else.

“We’re just about there,” Anya tells me, as
she turns off the main road and slows before a large wrought iron
gate bearing the Crossroads Academy insignia. The gates have to be
fifteen feet high and look virtually impenetrable. A quick survey
reveals that, although they are wrapped in vines and greenery,
there are two video cameras, a call box and an electronic
keypad—pretty high-tech stuff for a school.

“Do you have any other immediate questions or
concerns?” Anya asks, nodding in recognition to the guard who
stands watch in the gatehouse.

“Not at the moment,” I reply, sitting up
straighter, a pang of nerves taking hold. As we pass through the
gate under the watchful eye of the formidable looking guard, I
realize two things. The first, that I am damn thirsty. The stress
of the day is beginning to wear on me, and I am craving. Wicked
bad. The second: things are about to change dramatically for me,
and I’m not sure how I feel about that.

“The Pazitor,” Anya notes, as I stare at the
looming guard. “Loosely translated, it means guardians. You’ll
recognize them throughout the campus by their black suits and stern
dispositions. Their role here is two-fold: they protect the
students from stronger predators on the outside and also from
themselves. Don’t cross them,” she warns. “You won’t like the
results.”

**********

“It’s beautiful,” I breathe, catching sight
of the school, as we turn the corner and approach the circular
driveway. The place is freaking awesome. “The pictures don’t do it
justice.”

“No, they certainly do not.” Anya smiles
smugly. I suspect she’s seen this reaction from first timers once
or twice before.

In many ways, the school reminds me of an old
European church. The façade is comprised of worn gray stone and
houses long sweeping windows which give way to pitched roofs and
soaring steeples.

“The detail is amazing,” I comment, squinting
a little bit to better admire the intricate designs embedded in the
flying buttresses that connect the towers to the main building.
Although imposing the school somehow manages to look warm and
inviting, perhaps due to the lush landscaping.

Even with the car windows sealed, I can smell
the intoxicating aroma of the rose bushes that line the lengthy
drive. Like everything else I see before me, they are flawless and
appear to be cared for by a very diligent maintenance crew. We pass
one perfectly pruned bush after another, and I note that they are
all the same size and variety, each blossom large and healthy with
a deep blood red hue. I wonder if this is someone’s idea of a
perverse joke but know without a doubt that the people who run this
school don’t deal in humor. Like Crossroads the roses are about
prestige, perfection, and entitlement.

As I glance around, taking in the colorful
scenery, I half expect to see birds chortling and splashing in the
fountain like something out of a Walt Disney movie. A far cry from
the dark, dank crypts most people associate with vampires, I think
ruefully. I wonder if it will look so inviting once winter sets in,
leaving the campus bleak, gray, and covered in snow.

“Most of our first timers are taken aback.
Don’t worry though. The school is far more modern than it appears
at first glance.” She points through the windshield. “The front,
which you see here, was the original school and home to our
founder. As we’ve grown the building has acquired several
additions, including dormitories, which you will find quite
comfortable.”

“Great.” I grit my teeth and bite back the
urge to tell her I could care less about posh accommodations. My
childhood didn’t include butler service and designer clothes, so
I’m pretty sure I’ll be comfortable anywhere. Instead, I pull on my
sunglasses, yet another gift from Aldo, to protect my eyes from the
piercing rays of the sun.

Experience has taught me that the early
afternoon rays will begin to sap my energy as soon as I step foot
outside of the vehicle and the protection of its deeply tinted
windows. I tolerate the sun well, but prolonged exposure to its
direct rays will leave me rashy and uncomfortable. For many the
rashes become openly burning sores that rage across the skin unable
to heal, as the light eats away at the flesh. The condition can be
fatal, leaving nothing put a pile of ash and bone if sun exposure
is prolonged for an extended period of time. I’m told it’s an
excruciating way to die—one that is reserved for the vilest of
vampires.

“Well, Katia, this is where we part ways,”
Anya states, breaking my train of thought. She releases the trunk
hatch as I climb out of the car. “I’ve arranged for one of your
peers to show you to your room, and I have no doubt Lexie will be
along momentarily. I need to get this vehicle back to the garage
before dinner. Which reminds me…” she trails off excitedly, delving
into her purse in search of what I can only imagine.

“Ha!” she cries triumphantly, fishing a shiny
silver key ring from her bag. “A final gift from Aldo. It’s in the
East Garage. He said you’ll know which one it is,” she finishes
impishly, thrusting the key into my open palm. The key is cool and
hard against my skin. I do my best to appear unmoved by yet another
reminder of Aldo’s over-the-top generosity. In truth though, it’s
not something to which I’ll ever truly grow accustomed.

I drop the key ring into my bag without
glancing at the insignia and thank Anya for the ride, reminding
myself that I’ll be seeing her again in just a few days for our
first counseling session. As I watch her pull away, I note that the
campus is eerily quiet and contemplate the merits of a fast getaway
in my new car.

Before I can make a break for it, the massive
wooden door at the front of the school opens, and a lithe redhead
sashays forward, appearing weightless. She’s a little shorter than
I am, with a mass of fiery red curls that hang past her shoulders
and somehow manage to look stylish despite being totally unruly.
Her hazel eyes, though wide set, compliment her pixie-like features
and high cheekbones.

They don’t get much perkier than that I
think, giving a mental eye roll. I instantly wish Anya had found
someone a little more down to earth to act as my guide, the getaway
sounding even more appealing than it had just minutes ago.

“You must be Katia,” she drawls, extending
both of her hands to shake mine delicately. Her accent is a dead
giveaway for an American-born, southern upbringing. I take quick
note of her clothing, recognize more than one designer label, and
come to the disappointing realization that this school will be no
different than any other I’ve attended in the past. It will be a
breeding ground for social climbers, where good genes and wealthy
parents determine who is in and who is out and where my classmates
will step on one another to get ahead without thinking twice.
“Alexandra Worthington. Everyone calls me Lexie, though. It’s so
nice to meet you.”

I nod politely in acknowledgement but don’t
bother to return the sentiment. She takes the hint and forges ahead
with what I suspect is a carefully thought-out script.

“Anya’s asked me to see you to your room. I
can also give you a quick tour if you’d like?” she suggests
eagerly, the sincerity of her offer obviously genuine.

“Just my room will be fine. I don’t want to
impose, and it has been a really long day already,” I tell her
feigning regret.

“Very well,” Lexie nods, doing her best to
hide the disappointment. Too bad it’s written all over her face.
Oh, well. I never was a very convincing liar. “It’s just that this
place can be a little confusing for newbies. If you change your
mind…” she trails off, turning to head back indoors with me close
on her heels.

“So this is your first year at Crossroads,
right?” she asks, slowing her pace to match mine. We both know the
answer to this question. There are only a couple hundred vamps at
Crossroads, and I’m certain she knows them all, so I decide no
answer is necessary and remain silent.

“Kind of a late start,” Lexie tries again.
Apparently she’s not one to give up easily.

“Yeah, I guess,” I reply halfheartedly,
glancing around and committing the route to memory. I continue to
be surprised by the feeling of warmth within the school. It’s not
at all what I’d imagined. It’s way better.

The highly polished wooden floors are
protected with plush oriental rugs that, like the hallways, seem to
go on forever. The paneled walls are tastefully adorned with estate
portraits of prior students and faculty, and, though tinted, the
windows provide a fair amount of sunlight, illuminating even the
farthest corners. I smile happily, as I note wood burning
fireplaces in several of the common rooms we pass. Perhaps this
won’t be so bad after all.