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I had no choice. I put my hands on his bony ass, and it made my skin crawl.
“Passion, Acari Drew. Passion, children. It is about passion. ” He shoved me from him, and I stumbled back a few steps. He prowled right back to me, not taking his eyes from mine.
The whole thing creeped me out. He slunk around like a tango master after a few too many sangrias, and the way he held my gaze made me intensely self-conscious. Even worse was the dreadful suspicion that I was going to have to dance this with Alcántara someday.
I waited for his next move, unsure what to do with myself. I knew I shouldn’t, but finally I had to ask, “What do I do?”
He addressed the class at large. “Acari Drew stands there. Watch as I walk around her. ” He high-stepped another circle around me, prancing in time to the music.
“I go to her. ” He grabbed me and slung me into position, chest to chest. He put an arm around me and grabbed my hand, as if we were ready to tango.
And maybe we did—from that point, the class was a whirling, nauseating, horrifying blur.
To think I’d dissed German folk dancing—doing the Paso Doble with Dagursson made a rousing Bavarian jig seem pretty ideal. I’d have been grateful to dance anything else, with anyone else—even with stupid Josh.
Little did I know just how grateful to Josh I was going to be.
CHAPTER TWELVE
That night, in the dead of darkness, the sheets were torn from me. My eyes flew open, and even in my sleepy state, my instincts took over. I curled into a ball, covering my head with my arms. But it didn’t help.
I stole a peek over my clenched elbow. I saw that trademark sleek black bob and bangs, framing the face that had it in for me.
I could say I was startled, or shocked, but honestly I was neither. I’d been expecting this.
Masha’s revenge.
It’d been several days since our dining hall run-in, and she and her fellow Guidons had been mysteriously quiet. I’d known it was only a matter of time.
Hands grabbed roughly under my arms, dragging me to the floor. The dorm was never fully dark now, and my room was an eerie, colorless gray. I blinked rapidly, making out a handful of girls, menacing in their dark Initiate uniforms. Most kept their mouths shut, and all I heard was their heavy breathing, the sound in the calm of my room disturbing.
One voice spoke, a Russian accent, crisp and husky. “Time to take out the trash. ”
Masha. Large and in charge. This would’ve been her brainchild.
They pulled me down the hall, and my feet stumbled to keep up. I was pissed and wanted to piss them off, too, and even though it was stupid, I let my body go limp.
I fell forward into someone’s back and heard a brittle curse. I hoped I’d clipped a kidney.
But they didn’t stop; they just kept dragging me toward the stairs, my legs trailing limply behind me.
I felt sharp tugging around my arms—girls’ hands like claws—and then a kick on my butt. “Move, fatty. ”
“She weighs a thousand pounds. ”
“Push her. ” More hands, lifting me, then shoving me.
“Your vampire can’t help you now. ” It was Guidon Trinity’s voice.
I’d receded deep into myself, but when I heard Trinity’s voice, awareness burst through me. Emma. Where was she? Did they have her, too? I tried to look behind me, but a hand grabbed my hair and shoved my head back into place. I’d seen enough to know I was alone—no Emma. This treat was reserved just for me.
“Blindfold her. ” A ragged strip of cloth was bound tightly around my head, cutting into my skin. The unnerving feel of something pressing on my eyes, crushing them, was worse than any humiliation.
They reached the end of the hall, and I sensed open space gaping before me. Staircase. They were going to throw me down the stairs.
I swung my feet under me, catching myself in time. They ran down the steps, pulling me with them, and I stumbled along, my feet galloping awkwardly.
I’d experienced middle-of-the-night hazing before. At least now it was summer—the temp would be a bitter high forties, but no snow on the ground. That was something.
