Page 3 of Before We Burn

Many teachers have volunteered to be transition counselors during the day while the rest of us sleep. I’m envious of them—the way they are able to guide these lost souls toward a steady and mature coping mechanism.

I couldn’t do that.

My own transition had been sloppy and intense. I tore through any place I could get to, feeding and making scenes. The council should’ve killed me, but I was too valuable. I was their prized possession.

I stop outside the classroom where Edward’s teaching, and it’s filled with students so young my stomach turns while looking at them, listening to their hearts beat.

Heartbeats can tell you a lot about a person if you’re skilled enough to drown out the noise around you. I’ve had years of practice—years of comparing vampire hearts to human ones—and the one thing that never changes is the sound. Younger people, from the age of ten to fifteen, have a more fluid and smooth sounding heart. While sixteen to twenty-one year olds have more consistent lengths of steady beats with dramatic spikes with no physical changes. Older people tend to stay lower with little to no spikes.

For some reason, our hearts and bodies still function in the first year. Newly-turned vampires want food and perform other humanly functions. It’s an oddity. I’ve always wondered why, but no one has ever studied it.

Every classroom I pass looks and sounds younger and younger. My heart sinks as I remember the girl who sat in my classroom yesterday. She was so calm for a Bloodling. She asked no questions and didn’t make it a point to introduce herself. I caught her gazing out the window multiple times, and at one point I thought she had begun to whisper something to herself. Subconsciously, I look for her in each classroom, and disappointment forms a rock in my stomach as I reach the last classroom in the hall, noting she wasn’t in any of them.

That happens a lot with new students. Living on campus is an adjustment in itself. You’re surrounded by strangers, all your senses are heightened, and you feel like there is a pit in your stomach that's never going to feel whole again.

I turn to walk back to my classroom when Marissa, a witch I’ve welcomed into my space, bumps into me.

“Marzana, thank the heavens,” she breaths out. “I need more of that boneset root. I haven’t been able to find it anywhere. I found witches the other day, and they were beaten and ill. One of them died, and the others have this fever I can’t break. No regular medicine or spells have worked.” She’s out of breath, as if she ran miles to get here.

I look around the hall, ensuring no one has seen her. Some of the other faculty have issues with witches being in our space. Most shun them in fear of retaliation, which is stupid honestly. The Collective has always had their eyes on vampires. Not aiding the witches wouldn’t help protect them; it would honestly just make us look weak.

I pull her into a small storage closet, closing the door behind us while taking a moment to scold her. “Marissa, you can’t be here. Some of the teachers aren’t safe.” I rub my temples in distress. I already have so much on my mind, and this is just more piled onto my plate.

“I know, I’m sorry. But this is important. I can’t let them die. My magic feels so much weaker recently, and I won't be much help to anyone without it.” Her brown curls are tangled and knotted, her eyes cloudy and surrounded by dark circles. Even her usually honey-brown skin seems a little duller.

I sigh, resting my head on the cool stone wall. “If I can get it for you right now, will you stay here until I come back? I know Alexander put in an order for more medical supplies, and the boneset root was in there because I requested it.”

Her hands shoot to mine. “Please, Marz. You know I wouldn’t walk into the lion's den if it wasn’t important.”

She didn’t have to beg me. I had already decided I would help with whatever I could the moment I saw her. It’s risky business helping witches, but that’s never deterred me.

“I know. Just stay right here. Please, Marissa. If Alexander sees you, I will never hear the end of it.”

“Fucking Alexander,” Marissa breathes out, as I close the door behind me.

The hall is still quiet, classes carrying on without interruption, and the clacking of my heels against the marble floor more distracting than ever. Someone is always watching in this school, and my stomach coils at the thought of someone finding Marissa hiding in that closet.

I know she won’t be killed—I would make it to her before that could happen—but Alexander would know she was someone to me. I can’t have that.

My past has put me on a lot of revenge lists. One person becoming too close meant their lives could be in danger. Distance was necessary—secret relationships, too—plus, I was not fun to be around. I enjoy silence and being in my own world. Compromising feels like a task, and caring for another person is my worst nightmare.

The medical room is on the other side of the castle, past the library and lounging area for teachers and students. I pause at the door, because the girl from my class the other day is standing at the window in the library. Her hair is styled into two star-shaped puffs, stray curls dangling by her ears and in front of her face. Her body is so still that her chest isn’t rising or falling, and her eyes stare endlessly into the darkness.

Hairs on my arms stand upright as something eerie coats my skin, and I feel like we’re not alone in these halls.

A door closes somewhere in the distance, the loud slam making me jump and continue toward the medical room. Each stride is more elongated, determined to get to my destination a bit faster without running. As I reach to open the door, I feel a heaviness at my shoulders.

I hesitate, my suspicions pointing to the one person I was trying to avoid. His scent fills the air, and I draw in a deep breath to make sure: oats and cinnamon. The smell of him is repulsive.

“Need something?” Alexander chimes from behind me.

My grasp tightens around the door knob, and I take a deep breath. I stand as still as the girl in the library, hoping that somehow it will work and he’ll go away. But he’s resilient.

I slowly turn to face him, dressed in a three-piece suit with a stupid smirk on his face. I straighten my back, clasping my hands together in front of me, as I put on the nicest smile I can and pull back my frustration.

“Actually, I just came here to ensure the boneset root had been delivered. A lot of the students tend to get fevers in their sleep.” I hear the annoyance peek through my tone.

He raises his white brow, expression full of curiosity. I turn back around, not wanting to make this anymore awkward than it already is.