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“You would do well not to rile the vampires,” Vivian said, staring down her long nose at me as we reached the bottom of the stairs. “They are unpredictable and dangerous.”
“I know how vampires are,” I grumbled.
“Then you wouldn’t have riled them.”
We walked on in silence for a bit after that as I continued to take in the school around me and tried to talk myself out of getting flustered over my little run-in with the night crew.
“The map that was sent with my acceptance letter said the dormitories are on the upper floor of the west wing,” I said, frowning, because we were nowhere near the upper floor or the west wing. “Shouldn’t we be heading there? Wanda got a letter saying my things arrived last week and that my room would be ready.”
“Oh, your room is ready,” Vivian answered with a small, chilly smile. “I was in charge of preparing it and making it special just for you.”
“Just for me?” I eyed her skeptically.
She nodded. “It’s not every day we get someone with your background.”
Special? My background? What the spell did she mean by that? What was so unusual about me that I’d need my own room in the bottom level of the castle?
We turned down a corridor and descended down another wide staircase before entering yet another corridor, passing several wooden doors. They didn’t look like the heavy oak affairs with antique crystal doorknobs I’d seen in the pictures. Instead, they were plain, unvarnished wood with the cheap metal knobs you’d see in any mundane apartment. We walked all the way to the end of a hall, before she pushed through a swinging pair of double doors.
Then we came out into a large room that was lit by torches. A hearth, triple the size of the ones in the headmistress’ office, was lit at the far end of the room. The rest of the room was filled with copper appliances, gas ranges, tables, and counters full of dishes stacked taller than I was. Pots, pans, kettles, plates, and bowls littered every available surface. A plump, white-haired woman was busily tending to something in the corner, her apron covered in flour and other, more suspicious stains. Vivian watched me scan the room, an enormous Cheshire Cat grin on her face.
“Here we are,” she enthused as the woman walked into the adjoining room, where I could hear the water beginning to run.
“I don’t understand,” I said after a moment, allowing my attention to settle back on her with a frown. “Why are we in the kitchen?”
“This,” she pronounced, voice dripping with satisfaction, “is where you’ll be working.”
“Working?” I repeated, completely failing to understand what in the world she was going on about.
“Yes,” she nodded and then sighed dramatically. “I’m afraid your scholarship to the academy was yanked when your High Witch was turned into a vampire.”
“What are you talking about?” Of course, I well knew Wanda hadn’t actually been turned by Lorcan—it was simply something for show to get Rupert and his vampire cronies off her back. Looks like the lie had worked, even if it was causing me a royal headache at the moment.
“We couldn’t have someone of such dubious moral character attending the academy with a full ride,” Vivian continued as I breathed in deeply and told myself to count to ten because I was seconds away from bopping her right in her pretty, little mouth with my fist. “If you want to stay, you’ll have to work for your education, just like all the children of the staff.”
“There’s… there must be some sort of mixup,” I started, shaking my head.
“Oh, there’s no mixup,” she answered in a syrupy sweet tone. “So sorry. You can always go home if you don’t want to work...”
Vivian didn’t look sorry. She looked like she wanted to point at me and laugh or break out into a victory jig. She was clearly relishing the opportunity to pull the rug out from under me. My face was burning, anger and embarrassment competing to see which won out. I was fortunate that my anger wasn’t tied to my tear ducts, because there was no way in spell I was going to break down in tears in front of anyone, let alone this awful woman. Rook had been right. Vivian was a bitch. Well, I’d make her pay for the obvious glee on her face at some point. But that meant I had to stick around Blood Rose Academy to do it.
It seemed to throw Vivian off when I didn’t immediately react. Her triumphant smirk slipped a little. Maybe she’d expected that I’d throw a fit? But no, I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of a blowup. She’d use it as an excuse to hex me or get me expelled. So, I just gave her a beatific smile, which wiped her own smile away entirely.
“I don’t mind working here,” I offered with a shrug and a smile that took everything within me. “It’s not like I haven’t had a summer job. This should be a piece of cake. What time do I start?”
“Sunrise,” Vivian muttered, all the joy now vacant from her expression. “You’ll work until after breakfast.”
“And after that?” My smile was coming a little more easily now.
“Runecraft begins at eight-thirty. If you’re late, Professor Hecate will hex the door shut.”
I nodded, holding the smile in place until Vivian stalked back up the stairs. Then the reality of what had just happened settled over me, and I had to rub my stinging eyes. I wasn’t going to cry, damn it. This was just a setback. I could handle it. No, I would handle it. There wasn’t any other choice. I wasn’t turning tail and running back to Haven Hollow the same night I’d left.
And it wasn’t the work that was upsetting me. I actually didn’t mind helping out in the kitchen. It was what this job stood for—that I’d been separated, marked, owing to the untraditionalism of my coven. It wasn’t fair.
“Is the spiteful wench gone?” a woman’s voice asked from my left.
The sudden sound made me jump, and I spun in the direction of her voice. The plump, white-haired woman was standing in the doorway, and her lined face had creased into a severe frown. Thankfully, it wasn’t aimed at me. She was glaring blearily at the space Vivian had vacated.
