I’m not sure this is entirely true for either myself or my sister. After all, we’re just witness protection fairies here, not slayer students worried about tardy slips. But I guess for our cover’s sake it’s best to go with the flow. Besides, to be honest, I’m curious to see what’s behind Dorm Room Door #1. Not to mention get a reprieve from Sunny sobbing.
So I drag my sister out of bed, force her to wash her tear-stained face, then follow Lilli out of the room. We step out into a richly decorated corridor, with textured plush carpet of a shadowy, crimson shade. The walls are paneled with dark, oily wood and golden-framed portraits of teenage girls brandishing stakes hang on every surface.
“These are our sisters of the stake,” Lilli explains, catching my curious glance at the paintings. “Slayers from ages past. Some of them have truly amazing histories. Like this girl Abigail Williams. She took out an entire nest of evil vampires waiting to pounce on her Puritan village in Salem, Massachusetts in 1692. Of course the stupid townspeople called her protection wards the devil’s work and burned her at the stake as a witch. Dumb assses.”
She shrugs. “Of course that was before Slayer Inc. was officially formed and sanctioned as a vampire protection agency. Back then, it was every slayer for herself.” She turns to the next portrait. “Like with Amelia Earhart here. She staked vampires all around the world, but got drained dry on her last mission—a renegade coven setting up shop on a small island in the Pacific.” She gives Amelia a pitying look. “The cannibal vampires ate every bite of her and her co-pilot. Their bodies were never found.”
“Are all famous women throughout history actually slayers?” I ask curiously.
Lilli laughs. “Of course not,” she says. “Some of them were vampires. But don’t bring that up to the professors. They get a little touchy about that kind of thing.”
I’m about to ask who, but she changes the subject as we head down a set of sweeping Gone With the Wind-type stairs and into a large, chandeliered foyer below, relating in way too much detail how the school was founded a hundred years ago and has trained some of the top slayers in the world, including Sally Ride, first slayer to tackle vamps in space.
Our guide pushes open the heavy double front doors and we step outside onto the grounds. The air is fresh but crisp, and I notice Sunny wrapping her arms around herself. As a vampire, neither heat nor cold bothers me much, but I mimic her actions just the same. Don’t want Slayer Lilli, as sweet as she seems, to develop any suspicions as to my mortal state.
“Sorry,” she says, glancing over at us. “I forgot to warn you. It gets really cold here. Especially at night.” She shoots us a sympathetic look, then launches back into the tour. “There are two dorms on campus,” she continues. “The one we just left houses all the girls, and the one over there is home to all the male slayers.” She points to a nearly identical Gothic structure across the road. “Obvs, they want to keep the co-ed hooking up to a minimum. Which is too bad, ’cause some of the boys are completely hot.”
I look at her questioningly. “There are male slayers?” I ask, surprised. I thought this gig was girls only.
Lilli laughs. “Of course!” she cries. “Why, some of our most talented slayers through history have been of the male persuasion. Have you ever heard of Wyatt Earp? He slayed a couple of pretty hardcore vampires at the OK Corral back in his day. Then there was Jack Ruby, who managed to take out Lee Harvey Oswald, a vampire from the Grassy Knoll Coven, with a wooden bullet ...”
Lilli gestures for us to follow her along a narrow, winding cobblestone road that slopes gently downhill. We pass ancient-looking stone-faced mansions featuring elegant cornices and grand arches. Thick tendrils of dark ivy climb marble columns and grand carved doors bearing golden knockers mark every entrance. I can’t help but stare as we walk by, impressed by it all. This place is like freaking Hogwarts for Vampire Slayers. I wonder if I’ll get assigned an owl.
I turn my attention back to our escort. “These are the classroom buildings,” Lilli is explaining. “Though we do a lot of hands-on stuff down at the bottom of the hill.” She points to a football field-size grassy area below, nestled in a copse of pine. The wind picks up for a moment and I inhale the sweet scent of the needles. Delish. After a week in Vegas, the fresh air is more than a bit wonderful and, I realize, I’m looking forward to getting down there and working out. (Yes, this cheerleader stuff has ruined my Goth/vampire lazy sensibilities. Sue me.)
We continue down the hill, which gradually starts getting steeper as we go. “Cafeteria, nurse’s station, chapel.” She gestures to a beautiful Gothic cathedral to our right—stained glass and flying buttresses galore. “We’re not a religious school,” she adds. “But we do meet there once a week for announcements from the administration.” She shrugs. “Plus it’s a great hideaway if we’re ever under siege from an angry coven of vampires.”
I take an experimental step toward the cathedral, wondering if the force of God will push me away or something, but nothing happens. Hm. Their protective vault may not be as protective as they might like. Not that I’m going to share that little fact with them. Low-profile vamp all the way.
“What’s that?” I ask, squinting at the next building we pass, across from the chapel. Weird. While every other building on campus resembles a Victorian mansion, this one looks more like an abandoned factory. Built entirely of brick, it’s got boarded-up windows and barbed wire fencing. The whole thing screams “horror movie waiting to happen” and is totally out of place in this otherwise elegant, Gothic setting.
“Oh!” Lilli replies after taking a furtive look at the building, then turning away with a small shudder. “That’s ... Night School.”
Oh-kay. I wait for her long-winded explanation. The kind she’s given for every building, tree, and overturned rock we’ve passed on the property. But instead, bubbly exclamation girl seems to have suddenly turned mime. And while the momentary quiet should be somewhat of a relief, instead it makes me slightly nervous. I glance back at the building, a shiver crawling down my back. What is that place? And why is it here, an ugly wound on the otherwise beautiful Swiss mountainside campus?
“Here we are!” Lilli cries, interrupting my troubled thoughts. Her voice is all cheery chipmunk/exclamation points again. “The headmistress’s office and teacher quarters!”
I reluctantly turn away from the mysterious Night School and follow Lilli and Sunny into an impressive-looking two-story brick mansion at the bottom of the hill. Inside we find ourselves in a marble-floored lobby with sweeping staircase and majestic chandelier. I whistle, impressed. Seriously, this whole school is beyond opulent. Slaying vamps must command some serious coin. I’m so demanding a raise—or, let’s face it, a paycheck to begin with—when I see Teifert again.
A bored-looking receptionist reading, of all things, Vampire Academy waves us through and we step into a large office with dark crimson walls and mahogany furniture. Behind a massive desk sits an older woman, probably in her sixties, with watery blue eyes shielded by bifocals and a firm-set mouth, set off by thick frown lines. She wears a severe black suit with a high collar and a pristine set of pearls rests at her throat. If you looked up headmistress in the dictionary, you’d so find this woman’s picture. Cross-referenced with evil stepmother and fourth-grade math teacher.
“Here they are!” Lilli announces cheerfully. “I brought them, just like you asked me to. I even gave them a little tour along the way. Did you know they had no idea who—”
“That will be all, Lilith,” the headmistress interrupts in a haughty English voice that leaves no room for argument.
Our tour guide’s face falls, but she nods quickly and skitters out of the room. Feeling the headmistress’s hard stare, I can’t help but wish we could join her. I’d even put up with the exclamation marks.
“Sit,” the headmistress demands in a commanding voice most save for talking to dogs or small children. Compelled, Sunny and I scramble for nearby seats. I cross my ankles and fold my hands, my ski
n prickling with nervousness. We’re not in trouble, I remind myself. We did nothing wrong. Hell, it’s not like we asked to come to this stupid school in the first place.
“Sunshine and Rayne,” the headmistress reads off a piece of paper. She looks up at us with skeptical eyes. “Rather unusual names, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, well, we have ... rather unusual parents,” I say with a shrug. In fact, now that I know just how unusual, I’m only thankful neither of us ended up being called Petunia Bottom.
She sniffs. “So I am told,” she says—rather snottily, if you want my opinion. “Well, I suppose I have no choice, but to welcome you to Riverdale Academy,” she adds with a deep sigh, as if our presence is causing her great inconvenience. “As your Relocator probably told you, we’re a school for vampire slayers. Children come here on their twelfth birthdays to train for six years with our specialists. When they turn eighteen, each potential is evaluated to determine whether they’re fit for field assignments or should be placed elsewhere in the agency.” She looks over her thick, black-rimmed glasses, giving me a hard stare. I’m guessing this old biddy never saw a day out in the field. “I understand you were trained one-on-one by vice president Charles Teifert of the American division,” she says, a grudging degree of respect creeping into her voice. “So I expect you will have no problem keeping up with the slayers in your own age bracket while you’re here.”
I shrug. Teifert might not agree with that. After all, he’s always saying I’m the worst slayer ever. Not to mention I started my training just a few months ago, at seventeen. Unlike these child prodigy slayers they’ve evidently got here at Riverdale.
Still, I remind myself, I’ve taken down two big-bads at this point, not to mention a pack of cheerleading werewolves. I’d like to see these preppy prep school brats take on something like that!
“I understand you, on the other hand,” the headmistress continues, glaring at my sister as if she were a smooshed turd she’d just discovered on the bottom of her shoe, “have had no training whatsoever.”
“Yeah, weird, that,” I pipe up, feeling the annoying need to defend my twin, who is just sitting there looking ill and tortured. “Since, you know, she’s NOT A SLAYER.”
“Believe me,” Headmistress Roberta sniffs, “I am quite aware of that fact.” Her eyes bore through Sunny, who looks this close to bursting into tears again. Then she sighs deeply. “I guess we can put you in the beginner class.”
“I have to ... ? But I can’t ... ? I mean—” Sunny, to her credit, tries to croak out.
“Um, can’t she just lay low, hang in the library or something? Take some electives?” I interject on her behalf. “You guys got to have basket-weaving here, right? Stake carving 101?”
“Look”—the headmistress’s once-watery eyes are blazing now—“I didn’t ask to have you here. In fact, I was very against the idea from the start. After all, your very presence here puts my students at risk and that’s not something I tolerate lightly.” She scowls. “But now that you’re here, you are under my rule. And you will not treat this fine institution like summer camp. You will participate as full-time students, taking all required classes and following each and every rule. You will keep a low profile and not cause any disturbance. If I find that you so much as get a tardy slip, I have every right to punish you.”
“And expel us?” I ask hopefully. Maybe misbehaving is the key to getting sprung from this place.
“Unfortunately no. But I can make life very miserable. After all, you have the nano-virus lying dormant in you, do you not? I’m pretty sure Teifert still does this to his potentials ...”
I make a face. Of course I do. Wooden nano-capsules, swimming through my bloodstream, ready to cause serious bodily harm, should I displease the bigwigs at Slayer Inc. “But Sunny—”
“Doesn’t,” Headmistress Roberta finishes for me. “Right. Well, then, I guess you, Rayne, will have to take the punishment for the both of you,” she says with a smirk. “Should, you know, you decide to ... get out of line.”
I can hear my sister’s soft whimper next to me. I reach over and squeeze her hand. I don’t know why she’s freaking out though. I’m the one at risk of getting staked from the inside out here.
“Look,” the headmistress says, her face softening a bit. “I don’t mean to sound harsh. But this is for your own good. You must act like regular slayer students in every way or someone may take notice and report you.” She sighs. “Remember, even the tightest-run organizations can have foxes in their henhouses. And I’m afraid Riverdale is no exception.”
Man, this is the best place Heather could find to keep us safe from the fairies? Some Relocator she is. I mean, why not send a vampire to a beach hideaway in the sunny Caribbean while she’s at it?
“I see. Well, never fear, we’ll be model pupils. Phi Beta Kappa, perfect attendance. Do you have a cheerleading squad by chance? I’m all about the after-school activities these days.” I rise from my seat, pulling Sunny up with me. “And uh, thank you for letting us stay here,” I grudgingly add, forcing myself to swallow the bitter taste in my mouth.
Headmistress Roberta sniffs again. I’m beginning to think she should have that nose of hers checked out. “You’re welcome,” she manages to spit out at last. Though I’m pretty sure she doesn’t mean it.
But in any case, we’re dismissed and we walk out of the office and back onto the grounds. “Do you want to explore a little?” I ask my sister. “Or go grab some food?” As a vampire I can’t eat ... food ... but judging from the current state of bloodlust I’m in, I’m betting Sunny must be starving.
“No,” she says sulkily. “I just want to go back to our room and fall asleep. Maybe I’ll wake up and find out this was all just a crazy nightmare and I’m not hiding out from evil fairies at a school for vampire slayers with my beautiful boyfriend on the other side of the world.”
Oh man. Is she going to be like this the whole time we’re here? I should have asked Headmistress Roberta if I could switch to a single ...
“Fine,” I reply, starting the trudge up the hill. Maybe I’ll walk her to the room and then go out exploring myself.
We make it about halfway to the dorm when the cathedral bells start to chime. Suddenly our path is flooded with children of all ages and teens, pouring out of the classroom buildings and down the hill toward the cafeteria. We do our best to push through them, feeling like salmon swimming upstream, but it’s pretty tough with the sheer number of students they got here. I mean, really, how many slayers does Slayer Inc. need to train?
Eventually, the crowds start to thin and we’re able to make more headway. But before we can get to the dorm, our path is obstructed again, as a group of five teens—two guys and three girls—purposely step into our path. They’re dressed like something out of one of those secret society-type movies—long red cloaks, dark sunglasses, haughty expressions on their faces. They look very out of place among the otherwise very normally attired Riverdale student body.
“Well, well, well,” says the tallest boy in the group, surveying me with a critical once-over. “What have we here?”
6
I square my shoulders and narrow my eyes preemptively as the group forms a semi-circle around us, effectively blocking any chance of escape. I can see behind them other students giving us a wide berth as they pass, throwing nervous glances in our direction. Whoever these kids are, I’m guessing they’re not from the Riverdale welcoming committee, here to invite Sunny and I to popcorn and movie night back at the dorm.
Luckily I don’t like popcorn. “Do you mind?” I demand, taking a step forward, facing off with the tall boy who’s standing directly in my path. He’s got messy brown hair, a strong chin, and cheekbones that could cut glass. Kind of hot, if you like the jerk-off, a-hole type—which, of course, I usually do. I mean, before I met Jareth anyway. “We’re trying to get back to the dorm.”
Jerk-off surveys me calmly, not stepping out of the way. “I take it you’re the new girls,
” he observes. “I heard you were coming.”
“Glad you got cc’ed on the e-mail,” I retort. “Oh wait, I forgot. You don’t have e-mail at this godforsaken place.”
His mouth quirks in a small smile. “And you’re supposed to be ... slayers of some sort?” he asks, giving Sunny a skeptical look.
“I swear they’re letting anyone in these days,” mutters the blonde to Jerk-off’s right. She shrugs her cloak over her shoulder, revealing a perfect hourglass figure accented by a brown leather corset and a long, midnight blue, Victorianesque skirt that falls to her feet. Suddenly I feel super underdressed in my black sweater accented only by Sunny’s dried-up snot.
But cool outfit or no, she’s so not getting the best of me. “They let you in, didn’t they, Little Red Riding Hood?” I sneer. I can feel Sunny poking me hard in the ribs, but I ignore her.
“Now, now, Little Slayer,” Jerk-off scolds. “Take care. Here at Riverdale, we’re taught to speak to our superiors only when spoken to.”
“I’ll have to keep that in mind if I run into anyone superior here.”
Jerk-off chuckles. “What school did you transfer from?” he asks, his voice filled with amused curiosity.
“School? Please.” I roll my eyes. “I, Rayne McDonald, was trained personally, one-on-one by Slayer Inc.’s vice president, Mr. Teifert, himself.” There, that ought to give me some street cred with these losers.
Instead, to my surprise, the group looks at one another, then bursts out laughing. “So you were home-schooled?” The red-headed girl standing next to the blonde chuckles. She’s wearing a short gold dress with black tights and platform heels and is the spitting image of Miley Cyrus. “That’s so ADORABLE.”
Argh! Of all the ... I mean ... ARGH! I squeeze my hands into fists, fury pumping through my veins. That bitch. I swear if I wasn’t a vegetarian vampire trying to keep a low profile in a school full of slayers, I’d so bite the crap out of her.