Getting out of the dorms is almost impossible. There are students everywhere—milling in the hallways, lounging around the common spaces in groups. I’m forced to duck into random rooms every few minutes to avoid being spotted. It’s unnerving—the glimpses into the familiars’ and vampires’ lives I get each time. The weaponry alone has me shuddering. Cross bows hung on walls, ornately carved daggers left casually on desks atop stacks of schoolbooks, and mini fridges filled with blood. Every familiar’s room contains a doorstopper of a book on vampire protection and care. Every vampire’s room has a velvet satchel tied to the bedframe. I chance a look into one and find a handful of earth. It’s all odd and disconcerting and strange.
And fascinating. Part of me thinks. Very, very fascinating.
But it doesn’t matter. I’m leaving. I’ve gotta get home. It’s nearly dawn, and my mother will be up soon. I need to convince her to pack up our lives and leave town. Fast. Get as far from this school as we can just in case they come looking for me. Once I make sure Nicholas is ok, that is. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him. Is he a Van Helsing like they claim? What does that even mean? But then it makes sense. If there are vampires and familiars, of course there are vampire hunters. If he’s alive and conscious, I will ask him about the dagger he brought to the beach, about Renfield Academy, about all of it. And he’ll give me the answers I need because he has no choice. Unlike Iverson and the others, I can read his mind.
What isn’t so clear is how he’s managed to keep all this information a secret from me all this time when I should’ve been able to pluck it from his brain easily.
When the coast is finally clear and it appears that everyone’s finally gone to the dining hall, I creep to the far end of the building and hurry down the spiral stairwell inside one of the turrets. I keep one hand on the wall and one on the stair rail to keep from falling because after two flights, the trip down is dizzying. When I finally reach the door at the bottom, I’m fighting nausea and the desire to lie down.
Carefully, I open the door. It groans in protest and I cringe.
“Please God, don’t let anyone hear that,” I say softly then I shake my head. Can God even hear me? From this place? Surrounded by vampires and witches and familiars? More likely the devil will answer.
Steeling myself, I peek outside. There’s approximately one hundred yards between the building and the forest. It’s still dark and the ground is covered in a low-lying fog, but there’s a subtle glow coming from the other side of the trees, the first faint fingers of sunlight clawing their way into the sky. It’s a relief, that brightness. It means everyone will be going to bed soon. And given the vampires’ vulnerability to light, with luck no one will come looking for me until tomorrow night—even if they know I’ve escaped.
I suck in a breath and then run like hell through the gloom for the forest, convinced that any second someone will clamp a hand on my shoulder and pull me back inside. But I make it to the cover of the trees in no time, my pulse and legs strong now that I’m outside. I turn in a quick circle, scanning my surroundings for signs of Roman or Headmistress Iverson or Valentine, but I’m completely alone for the first time in hours.
Good.
Now all I have to do is locate the wall that surrounds the school and either scale it or find the entry gate. When we went through earlier there wasn’t a guard or anything. Why would they need one if the school is spelled to be invisible to humans? It was so big, I’m thinking there’s a good chance I might be able to squeeze through the bars.
I weave through the trees as best I can, but my progress is slower here, hampered by rocks and uneven terrain. I can’t see any of it because of the relentless murk. Twice I slip on patches of moss. The first time I manage to keep my footing, but the second I go down hard on my knees. They throb angrily with every step I take.
I curse softly. Where is the fricking wall?
Snap!
A branch breaks somewhere nearby. I suck in a breath. Several birds erupt from the trees to my left squawking furiously and disappear into the night. I freeze, listen hard for more movement, my heart in my throat, every muscle tensed. It could be an animal. I’m standing in a forest after all. But something in my gut screams that it’s not.
I catch a flicker of movement, a glimpse of pale skin through the leaves maybe fifty feet away, closing fast.
I juke right and take off again, legs and lungs burning. Whoever I saw is between me and the wall, running parallel even as it inches ever closer. Tree branches crack and snap, echoing through the night, the sounds like gunfire. I hurtle forward, heedless of the branches scratching my face. Whoever it is lets out a guttural sound—not quite animal, but not quite human either.
The trees thin and for the first time I catch sight of my pursuer.
Henry.
His eyes are red embers as he closes in and cuts off my path. His mouth is slick with blood. It runs down his neck, soaking his shirt. His hands are curled into claws, his face contorted with rage and need—exactly as it was down on the beach.
“Stay away!” I yell, stutter-stepping in a new direction then running full tilt, back the way I’ve just come. I don’t dare turn to look at him, to see how close he is. He’s too fast and I’ve got too much ground to cover back to the school.
“HELP!” I yell as loudly as I can, still running, my voice hoarse from the cold, damp night air.
My foot hooks onto something. A tree root?
Bam!
I’m down for a second time. Knees barking in pain, hands and feet scrambling to get me upright again.
A hand clamps onto my forearm.
“No!” I turn to face Henry, feet kicking, aiming for center mass. I get him in the upper thigh. I kick a second time, land a blow between his legs. He doubles over, howling.
Inwardly cheering, I leap up and take off again, back into the forest, to the relative safety of the fog and trees. But I haven’t gone fifty yards when someone steps into my path. I’m running too fast to dodge them and smack into their chest instead.
I stagger backwards. Henry is in front of me, blocking my path, hemming me in.
How the hell?
“Seraphina?” he says my name like it’s a question, his forehead puckered. He takes a step toward me.
“Stay back!” I holler, both hands fisted in front of me, ready to fight if I have to, even though I’ve never thrown a punch at anyone in my entire life. I have no shot whatsoever at besting him and he knows it. But he just stands there, hands up in front of him, watching me, seemingly stunned.
Wait.
Where’s all the blood? And his eyes. They aren’t red. They’re blue.
I blink, taking in his thick navy cable-knit sweater and light wash blue jeans. He wasn’t wearing them a second ago.
Just then someone else bursts out of the nearby trees.
It’s Henry…another Henry, red-eyed and blood soaked, one hand cradling his groin.
There are two of them?
How is this possible?
“Stay where you are,” bloody Henry growls, stalking both me and Henry number two.
I turn from him to the other, cleaner Henry. He looks as shocked as I feel.
“Jesus,” blue-eyed Henry murmurs under his breath, taking a step back. “What the hell? You’re–”
Bloody Henry smiles savagely. “You. But if you don’t go back to the dorms, I can also be him.” Then he laughs in a way that sends a shiver of goosebumps up my arms.
His face begins to shift and change. The red fades from his eyes and is replaced by a brown so dark it’s almost black as the whites become bloodshot and yellowed. A beard sprouts across his jawline and the angles of his face soften, get rounder. His lips lose some of their fullness, but his arms get bigger, much bigger. His shoulders expand. His height decreases an inch or two. The skin beneath his eyes begins to sag and wrinkle and his eyebrows get wild and wiry.
“Dad?” The other Henry’s face goes ashen, his eyes wide. He seems to shrink into himself.
“What are you?” I ask bloody Henry who is not Henry at all anymore, but a stout middle-aged man with meaty arms and a menacing grin.
“I was your worst fear and now I’m his,” the man says. Then his features start morphing again, becoming decidedly feminine as his skin and hair darken. Suddenly a gorgeous black woman who looks to be maybe ten years older than me is standing next to Henry and me.
“But I can be this instead. Pleasant and lovely if you’ll just go back to the dorm. Now. Both of you.”
Then when Henry and I just keep staring, she rolls her eyes and sighs. “Right. In all the excitement I’d nearly forgotten. You’ve never seen a shifter before, have you?” She directs the question at both of us.
I shake my head, too shocked to speak.
The girl holds out a hand to me. “I’m Chapel. Head of security for the school. I had hoped we’d meet under more normal circumstances, but then you had to try and run off.” She raises an eyebrow at me. “Not the smartest decision. You’re just lucky it isn’t a full moon and I’m not hungry right now. Because your fear…” She sniffs at the air and smiles a little too wide for my comfort. “Is intoxicating.” She licks her lips and my legs go rubbery.
Henry glares at Chapel, moving between us. “Stay away from her.”
Chapel laughs. “Oh, that’s rich, coming from the guy who was fangs-deep in her neck just a few hours ago. She’s terrified of you, you get that, right? Otherwise, I would’ve taken another form.”
Henry flinches. “I didn’t mean to do that. On the beach. I…” He trails off, a frustrated, guilty look on his face. He locks eyes with me. “I’m sorry, really. I know that doesn’t make up for what I’ve done, but I am.” The anguish on his face is acute. My heart squeezes. He’s just as much a victim of what happened on the beach as anyone else. It’s been clear ever since I got here. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t scare me. If anything, knowing this about him makes him more terrifying. How long before he gets hungry again? Clearly, his hunger is not something he can control.
Chapel pushes her curls back from her face. “Look, it’s nearly dawn and you’re both supposed to be in your dorms. You can either go on your own steam, or I can make you. It’s your choice.” She smiles widely then. “Go quietly and I’ll take you by the kitchen first for some hot chocolate or coffee to warm you up.” Her tone is suddenly soft and sweet. “Please?”
Her abrupt about-face is giving me whiplash. But I remember how fast she ran before and how I don’t really have any idea how to get to the front gate or what I’ll actually do once I get there. I’m not going to be able to escape, at least not right now. Not when Chapel is ready and eager to morph into my worst fears at any given moment.
“Fine,” I say.
Henry makes a noise inside his throat. “I wasn’t trying to escape. The last place I want to be is anywhere near town.” His voice is raw, hard. “I wouldn’t put people in danger like that.”
Chapel studies him. “Well then why were you out here?”
Instead of answering, Henry turns on his heel, hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his jeans, and walks away without so much as a backward glance.