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“They long to eat, yes. They need blood to survive. But there’s another longing, too. To be near the living. ”
“I don’t know if I needed to hear that. ” I shook off the creepy, goose bumpy feel that thought had given me. I was glad Ronan had shown up when he had, or I wouldn’t have been among the living for much longer. “What was that weapon you used to kill it?”
“I keep these”—he slid the stake from his sleeve—“at all times. ” He seemed to unclench at the topic of weaponry, and it was a relief.
My curiosity wasn’t exactly a stretch, either—his stakes might’ve been compact, but they were clearly lethal. Did other people have secret weapons stashed away that I didn’t know about? More important, did I need stakes?
“May I?” I held out a tentative hand and knew a thrilled shiver when, after a pause, he handed it to me. It was long and sharp, with a satisfying heft. I was surprised to realize it was carved of wood. “Cool. ”
“So it is. ”
“Did you make it yourself?”
He hesitated, then gave a sharp nod. “Aye. Though it’s not something I generally discuss. ”
So they were secret stakes. And of course they would be. Vampires wouldn’t want to think about non-vampires roaming around bearing anti-vampire weaponry. The secrecy lit a fuse inside, and I was desperate to know everything. “Is it a special kind of wood? And where did you get it on this island, anyway?” With the isle’s scant, scrubby greenery, a stake chiseled from
granite seemed a far easier thing to come by.
“There’s material to be found,” he said. “If you look. ”
Questions flooded my mind, and I knew my eyes must’ve burnt bright with them. “Does it have to be wood?” I thought of all the old myths. “Like Dracula—a wooden stake in the heart?”
Reluctantly, he shook his head. “You’re right that only impaling and beheading destroy them for good. As for the material, anything works if the force behind it is great enough. Wood, steel, iron—whatever you have that can do the job. ”
I hefted the stake in my hand. It definitely didn’t feel very substantial—it rather reminded me of an oversized pencil. “I’d think you’d have one in steel. ”
“And where would I get steel, Annelise? The vampires don’t exactly issue such things. ” He snatched it back and returned it up the sleeve of his sweater. “Besides, wood isn’t picked up by metal detectors. ”
That shut me up. Why would he need to travel with stakes if the monsters were here? What would happen if a vampire discovered them? And, seriously, why did he need them, really? Had he ever considered escaping?
But I could never ask that—knowing Ronan, he’d see right through me to guess at my own objective. Instead, I chose the most banal of my questions. “Why wouldn’t the vamps want you to have it? Can’t you just say it’s to protect you from the Draug?”
“They believe the way for humans to stay safe is to remain under their purview. ”
I watched avidly as he settled them back at his forearms, thinking of all the homegrown weaponry I could make. If I were really going to escape, chances were good I’d need more than just throwing stars and my wits to survive.
I’d be on the lookout for the right kind of wood. When the time came, I could borrow Emma’s Buck knife to shape and sharpen. “I’m totally going to whittle myself a stake. ”
“You’ll totally do no such thing. And you won’t be speaking of it to anyone, either. If the vampires were to discover you bore a weapon that they didn’t give you, they’d turn and use it on you. You must promise me you’ll forget we had this conversation. ”
I gave him a reluctant nod, though the seed had been planted.
His tone of voice had said he was done with that topic, but his frown told me he was working up to another. Not wanting the reprimand I knew he owed me, I shifted gears—fast.
“How do you know all that medical stuff?” I asked. “Like binding wounds. And checking breathing. And how you felt me…for broken ribs. ” I’d meant it innocently, but stupid, hormonally challenged me stammered after the felt me part of that sentence. Idiot.
But he didn’t seem to notice. Instead, he answered in a flat tone, “You’ll get that in combat first aid, next semester. ”
Ronan had grown tenser the closer we got to campus, his voice duller, and by the time we reached the quad, he was strung tight as a violin string. My lecture still hadn’t come, which was odd.
Something felt wrong, and then it struck me. More vampires than usual were milling around the quad. They glided down stairs, drifted from buildings, materialized from the trees, their elegant gait making it look as though they floated rather than walked.
“The blood,” Ronan murmured to me. “They scent your injury. ”
Master Dagursson emerged from the Arts Pavilion as we passed. “Acari Drew. What has happened?” His faux concern didn’t fool me—I knew he’d slice and dice me for a midnight snack if but given the opportunity.
What I’d done struck me then, truly struck me. I’d gone off the path—way off the path. I’d followed a teacher without his knowledge. I’d traveled to a forbidden part of the island. I’d broken every rule in the book.
