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“Oh, you won’t. You won’t. We just need to…” Dan gave Colin a loaded look, uncertain how to finish what he’d started.
Colin caught the ball and ran. “You have to come with us so we can explain the curriculums that you’re going to take while you’re here. ”
I groaned. The guy had the IQ of a tennis ball. “The curriculums?”
“What?” Dan’s glare was meant to challenge me, but I just thought it made him appear slack-jawed.
I sat forward, planting my elbows on the table, leanin
g forward, bracing for a fight. So much for leaving. Because, seriously, nothing made me madder than dumb and mean. “It’s staggering. ”
“What?” the guys asked in unison.
“Your stupidity,” I said, louder now, enunciating slowly and clearly as though speaking to a couple of deaf and doddering old men. “It’s staggering. ”
I turned to the girls. “Don’t listen to these idiots. ” The dark-haired Acari looked scared and confused, while Pretty Girl was acting like she wanted to trust the guys and not me. Whatever. “They’ve got nothing to show you. ” I pinned a look on Rob and added, “Trust me. ”
He looked like he was considering gutting me then and there. He could try. I knew for a fact I could give him a run for his money, and even if I couldn’t, I could see in his eyes, he knew I had a vampire for backup.
I stood. “Your little joke is done, gentlemen. Take the clown act somewhere else. ”
Dan attempted a last-ditch effort. “But we have to take them to the castle. ”
“Yeah, D. ” Yasuo finally spoke. His eyes glittered at me from across the table. “Tell them how all good girls end up at the castle. ”
I felt his comment like a physical blow.
I locked my knees. I wouldn’t show my pain. “All good girls get back to the dorm. ” I aimed the next words at Regina. Maybe it was because she’d reminded me of me, or maybe it was just because I could tell from the hormonal glow radiating off Pretty Girl that she was a goner. “And if they’re smart, they’ll go now. ”
I walked away, refusing to look back over my shoulder. But still, I felt Yasuo watching.
His comment had slashed like a knife, and I needed to stay alert. One of these days, there just might be a real blade and it would be aimed at my back.
I couldn’t believe I had to go back only to find Audra—excuse me, Frost—in our room. I didn’t bother to say hi. I simply slung my bag on my desk and flopped on my bed.
“You tracked in snow,” she said, not turning around. She was sitting at her desk, acting completely entranced by what appeared to be some ancient primary text.
Did I look that smug when I studied? “How can you even tell?”
“Take off your shoes,” she said impatiently.
I grumbled, but still, I leaned over to free myself from the knee-high winter boots. They looked cool, especially when paired with my new Initiate’s uniform—most things would probably look cool paired with a navy blue catsuit—but all those laces were a supreme hassle, and it did feel good to slide the things off.
Wriggling my toes, I decided to annoy my roomie. “Whatcha reading?”
She gave a tormented sigh. “The Poetic Edda. You probably haven’t heard of it. ”
As hard as I tried to break the ice, Frost insisted on being a little snot with me. Emma had been her roommate—Emma who’d been nice to everyone, including Frost—and Frost begrudged me her death. Did anyone not hate me for that?
Actually, there were two on this island who knew I’d done my best, who didn’t think I was the raging homicidal teen I appeared to be. Ronan, and of course, Carden.
Where was Carden? I needed him, and it wasn’t just the urge to feed. I needed to lean in to him. To shroud myself in the feeling I got when we were together, the sense that I could finally relax and stop looking over my shoulder for just…one…second.
“The Edda is the premier source for information on Norse myth and legend,” Frost went on. I hadn’t responded to her earlier ding, and apparently she was anxious to make sure I got how smart she was. “I’m currently working through the Niflung Cycle. ”
“Already read it. ” I couldn’t resist my reply. Frost’s real problem wasn’t that Emma had been killed—it was that she wasn’t the only smarty-pants on this island.
“You read it”—she deigned to turn in her chair to peer at me—“in translation. I’m working from the original Old Norse. I imagine that’s too advanced for you. ”
