But what about Ash? And what about Christophe, asking me to wait? Could I depend on him to come back for me?
It doesn’t matter. You can’t help either of them if you’re dead. Blondie’s on duty to watch you at the moment, but as soon as it’s dark it’ll be time for the first class of the evening and he’ll be gone. You’ll have a chance.
A chance to do what, though? What could I do? I wasn’t about to go crawling around the roofs at night.
At least I knew Christophe was alive. I could be the only person that did know that for sure, and still, anything could happen to him in the next few days.
And there was the fact that Christophe could be using me for bait. Everything inside me rose up in revolt at the notion, because every time I thought of him I felt his warmth against me and smelled a ghost of his apple-pie self. Maybe I should just wait around for—
Dru, you’re counting on other people to save you. That’s not going to happen. I let out a shaking breath. This one’s all about you.
But what about Graves?
Shit. That’s the only hole in this plan. But if I wasn’t around, would he be so much in danger?
And he was happy here, even if it was a reform school. Graves was just peachy hanging out with his hairy friends.
His hairy friends who liked blaming me for even being born. Jesus. A band of shadow was moving up the window as the sun sank, the light taking on that golden-honey cast of the best hour to capture it, if you could. I’d never been much into photography, but I remembered drawing in this light while Gran spun thread or finished dinner, sometimes singing in her queer atonal way, other times muttering imprecations at chicken broth or vegetables. I missed both things, her singing, and the steady hiss-thump of the antique spinning wheel. It was probably sitting under a dust cloth in the corner near the fireplace right where she’d left it. The house, mine under the terms of the trust, was closed up nice and tight, and I had the keys right on my key ring, that was still probably with the truck Christophe had hidden.
But there was another key ring, and I knew exactly where it was. In a metal box buried under the north side of a big granite boulder, the one Gran poured fresh milk over every new moon.
She also bolted the door every new moon. They left her house alone. That’s another reason why I always shiver when I think about fairies.
There’s nothing like waiting for the night to make you really nervous. The plan came together inside my head, and I was really wishing I had access to a car, any car. How did the food get to the school? Who did all the laundry?
It was a fine time to wish I’d been looking around instead of moping up here in my room or skipping classes. Then again, I wouldn’t have been taught anything worthwhile if I’d attended class, now would I. They were actively trying to prevent me from learning something.
So. No car, just me. There was one lonely country road dipping away from the school, hitching up with the county highway a good distance away. Far enough away that I hadn’t seen it from the roof of the Schola.
Two unpainted lanes of blacktop, with a deep ditch on either side, ribboning through the woods and occasional fields. It joined up just north of the town the wulfen were always running to. I could buy a map there and…
Then what? You don’t know anyone around here, and anyone you contact is going to be a question mark. If August was a part of the Order, maybe some more of Dad’s friends were too.
And if he’s vanished, what’s to say the others won’t as soon as you call them for help?
My head hurt trying to think about all of it. But the absolutely essential first step was getting out of here. Once I was on the move, I could figure everything else out.
Graves and Christophe had both pointed out it was easier for the vampires to kill me when I was away from a Schola, even a small one.
But they’d have to find me first.
I got up, left the bag on the bed. What do you wear when you’re running for your life? Layers, boots because your feet are your lifeline and sneakers are too flimsy, and wool. Graves’ shirt had vanished in the laundry. It gave me a funny feeling to think about it.
I felt like I’d just woken up after a long winter’s nap, but I couldn’t stop shaking.
CHAPTER 19
It got dark early, heavy overcast coming in from the northeast. The sky turned steel-indigo, and thunder rumbled in the distance. Fog didn’t rise, and that was odd. I was used to the whole place being wrapped up in cotton wool. It felt oddly naked, and I didn’t like it.
I also didn’t like the clouds. They just didn’t look right, thick dark blankets boiling lower and lower until they seemed to press the tree-tops in some weird way. It reminded me of the iron-gray sheet of the sky back in the Dakotas, the day I’d come face-to-face with Sergej.
Unusual weather. Vampire weather.
I stayed at the window, rubbing at the locket and watching the shadows stretch through the ruined garden below. The Schola woke up, a subliminal buzz just under the surface of the silence. It was the same as every other night. Except this night I was cold even through three sweater-layers, jeans, and a pair of almost-new boots. I had my bag on, strap snugged diagonally across my body. After some thought, I slid the switchblade in my left ass pocket. Now if I could just remember to dig it, or the gun, out when someone was trying to kill me, I’d be all set.
I ran over it again in my head. Down the stairs once the bell for first classes rang, through the halls, and into the night. Now was my chance.
I gave the room one last glance, from the pile of clothes I’d tossed in front of the closet to the rucked-up bed. I was getting sloppy and not taking care of my space. It would have gotten me another Lecture from Dad.
Christ. I was even missing his lectures about Cleaning Up So You Can Find What You Need When You’re Under Fire, Dru, and That’s Going to Save Your Ass.
Loneliness rose in a wave that tasted like acid. I paused by the door, closed my eyes, and listened, unloosing the fist Gran had taught me to make inside my head. That clenched-tight feeling is necessary if you don’t want to end up saying the wrong thing, or repeating people’s thoughts back to them. Plus, it’s hard to concentrate on your own business if you’re busy listening to everyone else’s, as Gran told me until she was blue in the face.
Gran was big on concentrating on your own business. I wondered what she would make of all this, and missing her was a stone in my throat.
There was definitely a sense of presence in the hall outside my room. I suddenly wished I’d gone up and out of the window again, but the thought of doing that so close to dark made my knees feel kind of funny. Once was enough. Besides, the whole point of this was getting out before it was an emergency.
I waited, barely breathing. The presence slowly slid away, just in time for the first bell. It tinkled sweetly all through the halls, muffled by the door. Time for breakfast. Or dinner, whatever way you wanted to look at it. The boys would be getting up, getting dressed, and getting to the caf.
I took a deep breath, twisted the knob, and stepped out into the hall. It was empty. The whole place seethed quietly. Was it just me, or was there an odd note in the seething? Something feverish?
It’s just you, Dru. Focus on what you’ve got in front of you.
Still, I hesitated. What about Graves?
The farther you get from him, the safer he probably is. The wulfen will look after him. They won’t do a damn thing to help you, though, so get your ass moving.