Initiation (31 page)

“Nope. I have no idea at all. I hope she’s not tagging me for last night’s break-in.”

Jagger scrutinized my face, but then said to Faustine, “Okay. If you’re ready, let’s go.”

I was glad to be alone, to have a few moments to myself. I looked at the clock. I had a little longer than just a few moments. I had enough time to jump in the bath and de-stress for a while.

Opening the windows in the bathroom, I ran a hot bath. I added the lavender oil my mom had popped in my suitcase and immersed myself in the scented water. I sat back, my neck resting on the towel-covered bath pillow, and closed my eyes. I wished I’d remembered to put on some tunes. No matter. I hummed to myself instead and kicked my legs gently to get some waves going.

The cool wind coming from the window danced across my face, providing perfect relief from the hot vapor rising from the bathwater.

Until a nasty smell permeated the air, a very familiar stench. Mason. I opened my eyes in horror as an eagle flew by my window. Jumping out of the tub, I stumbled to the window and pulled down the frame. Then, I drew the curtains to hide the outside completely.

I wrapped myself tightly in a towel, and made my way back to my room. I pulled down the blinds and flopped onto my bed, feeling totally overwhelmed. Mason? How the heck could that be? How did he get out of the basement? Who had let him out? We should have gotten rid of him… her… whatever, when we had the chance.

I didn’t have time to figure it out at that moment. I’d told Prof Bern that I would update her, so I got dressed and hurried down to her office.

Martha sat outside the office, seeming a bit lost. She brightened as soon as she spotted me. “Cordelia! Boy, am I glad to see you. I got your message, but you didn’t tell me why I had to come down here. To see Professor Bern! I’ve been told that she doesn’t usually talk to Initiates–apart from Faustine, that is. What’s all that about, anyway? Why would F–”

I put my hand on her shoulder, hoping to make her stop talking just for a minute. It worked. She looked up at me in surprise. “Did you knock on the door?”

“No. I wasn’t sure if I should… so I waited.”

“For what?”

“For her to come out and get me, obviously. She did ask me to come, right?”

“Yes, but it’s always worth knocking. Like this.” I reached over and banged on the door.

“Come in!”

Doing a
told you so
gesture at Martha, I opened the door. Thankfully, the prof was visible and sitting behind her desk, her manner very businesslike. She looked over my shoulder at Martha, who’d followed me into the office.

“Thank you for coming. Please sit down. Martha, I am Professor Bern, head of the Paranormal Powers and Practices Department.”

“My pleasure,” Martha drawled. “Why did you ask for me?”

“I have a few questions. This won’t take long at all. I just need to find out if Faustine has shared any information with you about Neave?”

“She might have. Why do you want to know?” Martha was being surprising elusive. I thought for sure she’d have started snitching immediately.

“I can’t tell you that,” Professor Bern replied.

“In that case, I don’t have anything to share. Anyhow, why don’t you ask her yourself? She loves talking about Neave.”

“I mean to. She had an issue earlier today, so I want to give her some time to relax before I ask her in for a chat. I just thought it might save some time if you could help me out. Is Neave one of her part-human friends?”

Martha glared. “I really don’t have anything to say. And I have a class now, so can I go?”

Professor Bern grimaced. “Yes. Thanks for coming. Cordelia, can you stay for a moment?”

“Sure.”

We waited for Martha to leave. She had impressed me. It was good to know that she could hold her tongue when needed.

“Well, what did you think of that?” Professor Bern asked.

“She’s obviously loyal to Faustine’s right to privacy, which is a good quality in a friend. Why didn’t you just spell her into answering your questions?”

“I try to maintain my integrity as much as I can. I’m not saying that I’d never do it, but in this case, she was right. If Faustine’s feeling up to it, we can ask her. I’ll call her.”

“She went skiing, so can we wait until she gets back?”

“Skiing. That’s inconvenient. Why did she do that? She’s supposed to be in class.”

“This whole thing really takes its toll on her, so when Jagger came by with some food and suggested it, I thought it was a great idea. She can totally unwind and get back to normal.”

Professor Bern stood up, not looking the least bit satisfied. “Well, you need to go to Frau Schmelder’s office. She called me again to remind me, and she didn’t sound happy.”

And Frau Smelt didn’t look happy when I finally went down to see her.

She peered over her glasses at me as I walked into her office. “I’m sorry, Cordelia. We didn’t know until this morning that they were gone.”

“Who?”

The Smelt put down her pen and threw her hands up in the air. “All of them! Tad, Andrew, Hank, and Jeremy. I am so sorry. There was a full moon last night, and in hindsight, we should have confined them with the other shifters. We have an area that is perfect for keeping them safe and out of trouble during full moons. I mistakenly thought the rooms that the boys had been confined in would be. We’ve never had anyone break out of those before.”

“How did they get out?”

“Through the window, which we saw no reason to barricade. Those rooms are eight floors up, in the tower. I can’t imagine how they escaped without injuring themselves.” She sighed.

I could. Mason had obviously flown them out. He’d waited for the full moon, when his strength would be at the max. I wasn’t sure if I should tell her, but I decided to keep it to myself because I didn’t really have any proof. And Frau Schmelder hated being bothered with unsubstantiated stories.

So, I had them to look out for again. Ugh.

M
y bedroom was the hub of excited activity. It had been chosen–I might have offered in a weak moment– as the place for the girls to get ready for the Initiates’ dance, the first social event on the calendar for the incoming students–not including the newborn vamps.

The dresses had been delivered to my room earlier in the morning. The nine garment bags hung in my closet, each one containing a spectacular outfit worn by a significant personality in history. I had taken Faustine to the dress vault a couple of days before for our fittings, after we’d chosen our dresses online. She’d gotten just what she’d wanted–one of Grace Kelly’s early cocktail dresses, from before she became a princess. The red dress had been too big for her, but the seamstress had made it fit like a glove. The adjustments weren’t permanent, just spells of course, since the outfits were treasures.

Faustine looked spectacular. Her hair was tied in an updo, which made her look elegant and breathtakingly gorgeous, not to mention older. I looked at her, as she sat on my bed, watching the others touch up their makeup. She seemed way too subdued for a nearly thirteen-year-old, especially one about to go to her first dance.

I walked over and sat down beside her to watch the other girls. Most of my friends were getting their own groups ready. I couldn’t wait to see them at the dance. The first few days back at school had been so busy and filled with drama that I never had a chance to catch up with them.

The only one I had run into was McKenzie. McKenzie and I had become friends during our Integration year. She had been part of a unique study set up by Alfred, the vampire king of London. After the study concluded, she was turned and sent to the Academy. Her story totally fascinated me, and we’d bonded quickly.

During her third year, she was not only busy mentoring one of the Integrate vamps, but she also took care of her toddler, which meant that she lived off campus in King Alfred’s ski chalet. So I’d been thrilled when I bumped into her a few days ago, and she told me that she had the night off. I’d invited her to join our group for the evening.

I noticed how she kept glancing over at Faustine, unashamedly enticed by her. I knew it wasn’t only because of the smell of Faustine’s human blood. She had a strong fascination with anyone even remotely human, but not in the I-want-to-suck-your-blood sense.

I wondered how the other vamps would react to Faustine. So far, she’d only come into contact with a few controlled vamps. Even Delam had been well behaved, so far.

The evening would be interesting. There could be a few mentor vamps and even vamp hybrids from the Initiate group in attendance. The dance was a mixer; the whole point was to allow the Initiates to socialize freely. However, in Faustine’s case, it might be necessary to be extra careful, even without taking into account the whole shifter mess.

“Do I have to go?” Faustine asked softly.

I turned to her, surprised. “Yes, you do. It’s compulsory, part of the Initiation program. But it’s supposed to be fun. You should want to go. Look at you. You look awesome.”

She kicked her feet up in the air, staring at her sparkly Manolos. “I don’t know.”

“Well, you are fabulous. Why don’t you want to go?”

“Oh, it’s nothing, I guess.”

I guessed that the
nothing
was Ryker. Martha had been chatting up a storm about the virtues of everything Ryker.
Ryker this, Ryker that, blah, blah, blah
. I hadn’t come across Ryker again after that time in the mentors' lounge. We’d all been so busy in the last few days that I doubted even Jagger had managed to spend any time with him. In fact, as far as I knew, even Martha hadn’t had any contact with him since then, but to listen to her, one would think that she spent every waking hour with him. Maybe she did, in her mind. She seemed totally obsessed. As did poor Faustine.

As if on cue, there was a knock on the door. Quinn poked his head in. “Ready, ladies?”

“Is Ryker here?” Martha inquired with an exaggerated twang.

“Yep, right behind me, with Dax.”

No Jagger. I was a little disappointed, but mostly relieved.

“Well, let me through, ladies!” Martha sashayed over to the door. “I’m ready, Ryk. Shall we go?”

Ryker appeared from behind Quinn and held out his arm. “Martha, nice to see you again. You look lovely. As do all of you,” he added, throwing us an appreciative look.

Not as lovely as you, I thought, as I held in my drool at the sight of him. I had no idea who his clothes had belonged to, but he resembled James Dean.