Crossroads (Crossroads Academy #1) (7 page)

I watch intently as a steady stream of my
classmates step forward to be beaten. I know my turn is coming and
realize that I will be the last. I’m certain this is an advantage
as I’ve gotten a feel for his moves and speed.

He’s fast, but I’m faster. The key will be to
draw him into the attack.

I step forward confidently, as Garcia nods in
my direction. I need to impress him and this is my best
opportunity. I’m prepared for anything and know I have the upper
hand having seen him fight.

Locking eyes with my sparring partner I too
lower myself into a defensive position. We circle for what seems an
eternity, and I can see the pressure starting to build on his face.
He’s contemplating an attack. This is what I’ve been waiting for. I
use this flicker of indecision to launch myself into his space.
After placing a solid blow to his right knee I withdraw before he
can react.

I am certain he will retaliate when I see the
pained look on his face. I prepare myself for the counterattack and
feel my training start to take over. He feints right and comes at
me from the left, leading with his fist. The force of the blow is
excruciating. I spin right and drop to the ground, my left leg
sweeping his feet out from beneath him. I’m on him in a second
looking for a pin, but he’s ready. We struggle briefly, and I’m
flipped over his head and onto my back. I’m momentarily stunned,
giving him the advantage. He jumps to his feet before I can
react.

Standing over me, he grabs my right wrist
while simultaneously placing a foot on my chest. He jerks the arm
mercilessly, wrenching it from the socket. I gasp in pain, as a
pathetic cry escapes my lips. Fire shoots up my arm, and there’s no
doubt in my mind that it’s dislocated. The searing pain is like
nothing I’ve ever felt before, but I refuse to be beaten so easily.
One look at the boy standing over me and I’m able to channel the
pain.

He smiles victoriously, celebrating a bit too
soon for my taste. Protecting my injured arm, I roll to my side and
land a well placed kick to his right knee cap, bending the leg
backward at an impossible angle.

No sooner does he hit the ground than my
teeth are on his neck, a low growl erupting from my lips. I could
rip out his throat in a heartbeat and he knows it. My fangs are
sharp, ready, and thirsty for blood. I imagine sinking my teeth
into his flesh, releasing a wave of sticky, sweet blood. My fangs
ache with the desire to taste him. His blood calls to me with every
beat of his heart. The scent of his fear hangs in the air,
beckoning me.

“Enough!” barks Garcia. I shake off the
momentary bloodlust but hold my position until my opponent
concedes, acknowledging his own defeat.

I climb to my feet and extend my good arm to
the boy lying on the mat. I am a little miffed about the dislocated
shoulder but want him to know there are no hard feelings. After
all, I won. “You’re good.”

“But today you were better,” he returns,
accepting my hand and pulling himself up from the ground. He favors
his left leg. I can’t help but feel a little pleased.

“Well done. Both of you,” states Garcia,
clapping us each on the back. “What’re your names?”

“Marcus.”

“Katia.”

“Let’s hear it for Marcus and Katia,” he
instructs the class.

After a brief round of obligatory applause
from our peers, Garcia continues. “Now that I’ve had an opportunity
to assess each of you, Nikolai and I will be better able to tailor
our lessons to your individual needs. While many of you are taking
this class because it’s required, others of you may have a natural
affinity for the subject matter. Regardless of your future career
choices, the day will come where you need to defend yourself. It’s
my job to make sure that you are prepared and leave this school
equipped to do so. We’ll break early today. Use the remainder of
your class time as you wish, but come prepared to train next
week.”

The class begins to fan out, and I
contemplate my next move. I think my arm will heal itself properly.
It feels better already, but what do I know? I’m trying to decide
between the obstacle course and target practice when Nikolai
approaches.

“Let me see your arm,” he says by way of
greeting. To be honest, I’d almost forgotten he was even there.
Almost.

“I’m good,” I state flatly, turning to
leave.

“It wasn’t a request.” He grabs my good arm
and holds it firmly, the pressure of his fingertips drawing a
raised eyebrow from me.

Although disgruntled, I’m reminded of his
position as Garcia’s assistant and realize I have no choice but to
comply with his command.

“I’m not sure if you’ve heard, but a
dislocated joint will heal itself faster if you put it back in the
socket where it belongs.”

“No, I hadn’t heard,” I say, placing my good
hand on my hip in a show of annoyance. “I’ve been living the
abysmal existence of a fugly mountain troll, so how could I
possibly know such things?”

“So, you heard all that, huh?” He runs his
hands over my afflicted arm and shoulder. “They’ll come around,” he
finishes, apparently having decided on a course of action. “They’re
just intimidated by you.”

“Like I care.” I roll my eyes for good
measure, although the gesture is completely lost on him. He’s
focused intently on my shoulder. Unbelievable! I don’t know if it’s
worse that he’s making excuses for his intolerable friends or that
he expects me to understand their obnoxious behavior.

He nods approvingly, placing one of his hands
flat on my shoulder and grasping my arm with the other.

“This is going to hurt,” he warns. His eyes
meet mine for the first time. He holds my gaze just a little too
long, but I refuse to let him make me uncomfortable.

“Just get it over with,” I retort.

“Stubborn as hell, aren’t you?” he asks
cheerfully. “I like that.”

I promise myself I will not scream again.
Especially in front of him. My body shakes, as he forces the joint
back into the socket, and I bite my lip to keep from crying out in
pain.

“Good as new,” Nikolai assures me, rubbing
the sore shoulder gently. “You were very good in the ring. Marcus
underestimated you. I would never make that mistake,” he finishes
lowering his voice intimately.

“You already have,” I snarl, turning on my
heel and storming off toward the door.

**********

“Good evening, Katia. Please come in and make
yourself comfortable,” Anya calls out.

I’m still in the hall beyond her line of
sight, the partially cracked office door providing cover. She
must’ve heard me approach. There’s not much activity in this part
of the school at this time of night. I venture into the office and
close the door behind me. Might as well get this over with.

Anya is sitting at her desk, a large wooden
behemoth which only further serves to reinforce her diminutive
size. The room is dark, and she works by the light of a small lamp
on her desk. It casts deep shadows across the room but doesn’t keep
me from seeing that the walls are lined with cherry bookcases,
which flank a large fireplace. Where there are no bookshelves, the
walls are plastered with diplomas and certificates, emphasizing the
fact that she is an overachiever. What a surprise, I think
sarcastically.

The office is comfortable and has enough of
Anya’s personal touch to keep it from feeling cold and academic.
She’s placed two brown leather chairs in front of the desk for
visitors. I take the one on the left and flop into it
unceremoniously.

“So, how’re things going?” she asks,
switching off the PC monitor so that I can’t see what she’s been
working on.

“Okay.”

“Just okay? These sessions are going to be
less than productive if you’re going to make me do all the work,”
she points out. “Let’s start simple. Are you enjoying your
classes?”

“Yes.”

“Making friends?”

“Not really.”

“Why do you think that is?” she prods, full
well knowing the answer.

“Probably it has something to do with my lack
of interest,” I respond frankly, crossing my arms over my
chest.

“Katia,” she chides. “It’s going to be a long
year if you decide to go it alone. Aldo did not send you here as
means of punishment. You are here because you have incredible
potential. Reaching out to your peers and becoming involved at
Crossroads is the only way you are going to flourish.”

I remain silent. I’ve heard all this
before.

“I heard you were top of the class in
MMA.”

“You heard right then,” I reply nonchalantly.
The pained look that flashes across her face causes me to
reconsider my approach. I know I’m making this more difficult than
it has to be. She’s just trying to do her job and fulfill a
commitment she made to Aldo. It can’t hurt to give her a little
something, even if it’s just fluff.

“I had a good teacher in Romania.” I shrug
and lean back in the chair. The soft leather molds to my body like
a lovers embrace and I feel myself relaxing against my better
judgment. “Aldo arranged for a member of the Linkuri to train me in
hand-to-hand combat. Viktor and I spent many hours working on my
Jujutsu technique. I suspect Aldo chose Jujutsu because it’s more
of a defensive martial art. Less attack, more defend.”

“Jujutsu uses the enemy’s own power and
momentum against him, correct?” she asks, seemingly interested.

“Yeah. It’s a very effective means of
neutralizing an opponent. Viktor and I also spent some time on
small arms and weaponry. Not as much as I might have liked, but
Crossroads will fill in the gaps. I like being able to handle
myself in any situation.”

“What is it you want to do when you leave
Crossroads, Katia?” she asks changing the subject abruptly.

“I don’t know. Return to Romania. Maybe join
the Linkuri,” I respond noncommittally. I haven’t spent a lot of
time thinking about my future lately. Maybe because I’ve got an
eternity to figure it out.

“You want to be a punisher? One of the
hunters?” she questions, her surprise evident.

“Why not? I haven’t got much family to speak
of, and we both know that I can’t exactly follow in Aldo’s
footsteps.”

“I don’t know any such thing,” she returns,
meeting my eyes. “Crossroads will prepare you for whatever future
you choose. You’ve got plenty of time left to figure it out anyway.
Lots of students change their minds over the years. Actually it’s
rare for a student not to change his or her mind.”

Joining the Linkuri is dangerous work. I’m
sure this is why Anya’s put off by my answer. The Linkuri are a
brotherhood of assassins employed by the Elder’s Council. If you
cross the Council, it’s the Linkuri who will come find you. From
what I’ve heard, death would be a blessing compared to the wrath of
the Linkuri. They instill fear in even the strongest vampires.

Honestly, I have no idea what I want to do.
Maybe I’d enjoy the Linkuri. I think I’d be good at it. But who
knows? It seems as good a way as any to repay my debt to Aldo, and
I’m not afraid of the danger. I have nothing to lose and therefore
nothing to fear.

Before I can respond, there’s a knock at the
door, and we’re interrupted. Anya checks her watch and jumps up
from the desk. I don’t imagine she’s expecting anyone else for our
session, and I’m curious to see who has come knocking so late.

Anya cracks the door doing her best to
protect my privacy, but her guest towers over her, and I can easily
see it’s Nikolai in the hall. They whisper briefly about dinner and
she sends him away. Curious. What’s he doing here? Maybe I’m not
the only one with a special schedule. Then again, the apparent
familiarity between them is not typical of a student-teacher
relationship.

“Sorry about that,” Anya apologizes,
returning to her desk. “My brother. He didn’t realize I had a
session this evening. We often dine together,” she offers by way of
explanation. “There shouldn’t be any more interruptions though. Now
where were we?”

“Nikolai is your brother?” It’s difficult to
keep the shock out of my voice. I didn’t see that coming. But,
maybe I should have. Petrov. Petrova. Masculine. Feminine. Plus,
they both have the same Russian accent and enchanting blue
eyes.

“You’ve met?”

“Briefly. He’s the teaching assistant in my
MMA class,” I tell her, omitting the truth of our actual first
meeting. No need to borrow trouble.

“Then I’ll tell you what I tell Nikolai. The
sky is the limit for you. You can be and do anything in this world
that you choose. Our kind has risen to amazing heights within our
own society and among the humans. Doctors, lawyers, music
producers, actors, architects. Find something you love, something
you’re passionate about. That’s what Crossroads is about.”

Her message sounds like a bad Family Channel
special, but I know she’s right. While vampires excel in careers
that permit a nocturnal schedule, I’ve heard stories of vampires
permeating all walks of life on the outside.

I tune out for the remainder of our session
giving Anya pat answers that are vague at best. I’m distracted by
thoughts of Nikolai and Anya’s relationship. Talk about a small
world. At least now I know how she heard about my performance in
the MMA class so quickly.

This revelation reminds me what a tangled and
incestuous species we truly are. Sure we’ve grown in number, but
our fates are tightly bound, especially those of us in close
proximity to power. I must remain vigilant. My secrets are my own,
and by their very nature I know that exposing them will bring great
penalty. There are some things even Aldo can’t protect me from.

The
universe has a dark sense of humor. It’s Friday afternoon, and I’m
sitting in Sociology minding my own business when Nikolai, Jade,
and Lexie traipse in. Apparently this is one of the few subjects
where I don’t rate a beginners’ course. Lucky me. And, as fate
would have it, they are the last to arrive, meaning that they fill
in the empty seats surrounding me. So much for the benefits of
getting to class early.