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The building had four floors. Each was exactly alike, with sixteen rooms per floor, except for the ground level, which had only fourteen rooms and a large foyer. Each floor shared four bathrooms, two on either side of the hallway. A kitchenette and common area with couches and a fireplace were at the far end of each hall.
From what I spied through an open doorway, two rooms on the end of each hall were actually suites with their own bathrooms. I assumed each was occupied by a Proctor. That meant two Proctors per floor, for eight Proctors total.
I did the math. One hundred girls. Fifty rooms occupied, plus eight Proctor suites. That left four empty.
Maybe I could land myself a single room.
Yeah, right. Somehow I got the feeling that Lilac or I had to die in order for either of us to be granted a single. The thought gave me a chill. I hoped my roomie wouldn’t come to the same conclusion and murder me in my sleep.
I went back up to the second floor, but our light was still on. Even though it was late and I was beat, I decided to give it a bit longer until Lilac was asleep. Putting on my jammies and tucking into bed in front of her was something I was going to need to work up to. Instead I plopped down on a couch in the common area.
The dorm felt empty, like everyone was in for the night. It was peaceful, and the couch uncharacteristically cozy, covered in wide-wale corduroy colored a deep burgundy. The iPod jammed into my belly as I settled in and I pulled it out, deciding it was safe to risk it. I smoothed my mother’s photo over its hard surface, getting strength from that wide-eyed stare. She’d have rocked a navy blue catsuit—I could tell.
With a sigh, I toggled to The National and played them extra low, careful to keep the earbuds hidden in my hair. Then I opened my book and read. And read.
Two attempted forays back to the room were enough to tell me that Lilac and I were playing some sort of passive-aggressive game of chicken. She wouldn’t turn out the lights until I went to bed, and I wouldn’t go to bed until she was passed out asleep.
Needless to say, I was becoming very well acquainted with the pantheon of Norse gods and goddesses.
The hall clock had just chimed three o’clock when I heard the footsteps. At 3:01, I heard the shrieks.
I ripped the buds from my ears and shoved my iPod in the belly of my regulation granny panties. Slinking to the hallway, I watched as seven Initiates went from door to door, pulling Acari from their beds. Girls stumbled from their rooms, dressed in full winter gear, fully packed kit bags slung on their backs. The uncooperative ones were dragged out by their hair.
I panicked. Was I supposed to be in bed? Had there been a lights-out curfew I didn’t know about? Should I hide? Would I get in trouble already?
“You,” a voice called behind me.
I spun, startled. I had enough sense to look down submissively, but not before getting a full glimpse of the creature standing before me. Black hair in a severe bob; hard-edged features. She wore the midnight blue catsuit of an Initiate.
I thought of the headmaster’s speech. A black bullwhip unfurled from her hand, and I remembered. She was here to teach me pain.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Yes . . . ” I answered warily, fumbling for how to address her. Yes, Master? Yes, Ma’am? Yes, Ms. Bizarro Dungeon Queen?
“I am Guidon Masha. ” I detected the faint strains of a Russian accent, just the barest hint in her elongated vowels. “And you are late for the party. ”
I forced my gaze to meet hers. I knew I needed to be agreeable, but something told me it’d be dangerous to let anyone scent fear. “Yes, Guidon. ”
A frightening smile curved one corner of her mouth. I’d gotten the term of address correct. I guessed Guidon was a more advanced level of Initiate. I recognized it as a military word, though its exact meaning
escaped me.
This was an ordered world I found myself in, one of hierarchies and titles. But I was smart; I could learn. I felt my shoulders relax a bit.
The smile evaporated from her face. Apparently she’d sensed the relaxation in my posture and didn’t much like it. “Move, Acari. You will go to your room and return in full uniform, carrying everything you own. ” She cracked her whip, snapping it against the couch. The couch, by the way, was at least seven feet away. “Now. Before I make you run. ”
I didn’t need any more urging than that.
Great. I’d broken Annelise Drew Cardinal Rule Number One: blend. At all costs. And now my penalty was the attention of a girl with a bullwhip. Though, arguably, it beat catching the eye of someone with a lasso.
My brisk walk sped into a jog. I passed Lilac in the hallway, and the evil eye she gave me said she blamed me for her lack of sleep.
I zipped into our room and frantically gathered my stuff. It didn’t take long, since, aside from a dry pair of socks and a little bag of toiletries, I hadn’t unpacked in the first place.
Nerves slicked my skin with a fine sheen of sweat. I became aware of the metal and glass of my iPod, heavy and damp in my panties. I froze, crooking my thighs to stop it from slipping free.
I shot a glance at the door open behind me. Would anyone notice? Something told me I needed to take the risk. Jamming my hand down the front of my leggings, I retrieved both my iPod and the photo and shoved them deep into my kit bag.
