“It’s not that I’m angry.” Between Carden’s unexplained absence, Alcántara’s unwanted interest, and Yasuo’s fury, anger wasn’t exactly what I felt. “I’m sad. Lonely, maybe. Confused and scared, definitely, for sure. But it’s not quite anger. I don’t know…I’m worried about Yas. I mean, above and beyond the whole trying-to-kill-me thing. His eyes were all wonky, and he didn’t seem like himself…like, at all.”

Ronan’s expression shuttered, but he gave a slight nod that told me he knew a little something about loneliness and uncertainty. “It’s only out of concern that I…that Kenzie and I,” he quickly amended, “bring this up.”

I thanked him, but my throat grew tight. Kenzie and I. Did Ronan ever take any responsibility for his own actions or feelings?

“You must be prepared,” he warned. “Yasuo won’t be satisfied until he feels he’s exacted revenge.”

My mood spun on a dime. “Alcántara is the one who killed Emma, not me. Yasuo should get revenge on him. How is it I’m the only one who seems to want to know what happened to her? Because if she wasn’t dead when she was taken from the ring…” Emotion stabbed me like a stiletto in the chest, and I sucked in a breath, needing to gather the guts to finish the thought. “If she wasn’t dead,” I continued slowly, “he should want to know what happened to her. Hell, as a vampire Trainee, he’s the one with the ticket inside the bowels of that castle. He’s the one who can find out.”

“Maybe he knows already,” Ronan said evenly.

“Then maybe he should tell me.”

“Maybe you should forget this foolish idea,” he snapped.

“Foolish idea?”

“That there’s something in the castle for you to discover. There are all kinds of nightmares in that keep. And no,” he said, seeing my look, “I don’t know what they are. Certainly, you could break in and satisfy your curiosity, but you’d bring the knowledge to your grave because we’d never see you again.” Something flickered across his face, something tight, like pain.

Ronan cared, and at the moment, it just made me sad. I sighed. “Look, I’ve been getting stronger. But Carden—Master McCloud, I mean—he says that the difference between strength and power is—”

“Don’t,” Ronan interrupted. “Annelise, you will please refrain from quoting vampire politics to me.”

“It’s not politics,” I said, but my protest was weak. His jaw had tensed at the mention of Carden. For whatever reason, I was walking a fine line here. “It’s survival.”

“Survival.” He sneered. “I’ll see you in class, Annelise.” He stopped and turned to head back the way we came.

“Wait.” I stopped, too, staring dumbly. “I thought you were going to the dining hall.”

“I’ve lost my appetite,” Ronan said. And he left me standing there.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

As it turned out, an early dinner wasn’t a good idea. In fact, it proved to be a very, very bad idea.

I’d shoveled down my food, pocketing a roll to snack on later, and was back out the door before too many other kids even had a chance to show up. Head down, hands jammed in my pockets, I walked as briskly as I could, teetering on the very outer edge of the path headed back to the dorm.

But it wasn’t inconspicuous enough. A chorus of guy voices greeted me.

I didn’t look up. I just upped my pace. The voices got louder. More specific. “What’s her problem?” one shouted, and another followed with, “Bitch is scared.”

Then I heard Yasuo. “She’s too good for us. Isn’t that right, D?”

Crap. It wasn’t just any group of guys. It was Yas and his pals.

I walked faster, my eyes glued to the ground, and passed by them. Just as I began to release a pent-up breath, I felt them stop. Like a herd, they turned as one, dutifully following me back up the path.

What the hell? These were growing boys—shouldn’t food be the most important thing on their minds? I laughed nervously, still not daring a glimpse at them. “I’d get my butt to the dining hall, if I were you. Food goes fast on casserole night.”

“You’re much tastier,” the Trainee named Colin said. He was one of those swaggering, quarterback types, which apparently translated in life as on the field. “What do you think, Dan? What would you rather eat? Cafeteria slop or Acari slut?”

Redheaded Danny laughed hard and shouted an answer, but between me huddling extra deep in the hood of my coat and his thick British accent, his words just sounded like oi oi oi oi.

I picked up my pace, but felt a hand swipe at the sleeve of my coat. Dammit. I could break into a run, but that’d probably only trigger some pack instinct. They’d simply chase me back to the dorm and eat me alive.

I was out of options. I stopped short and spun on them. “What?”

They were a huddle of about a half-dozen boys, staring at me. Some glared (Yasuo), some gaped (Toby-My-Trainee), and others goggled as though mine were the first breasts they’d ever seen (Colin, Dan).

I hardened my stance, not in the mood. “What are you looking at?”

“You.” Colin curled his lip, taunting. “Trash.”

Nice. Here we go. I put my hands on my hips and stood as tall as my five-foot-two frame could stretch. “I knew you were a dumb jock, Colin, but do you think you could do us all a favor and maybe dream up a better comeback?”

I scanned the rest of them, doing the mental tally. Fangless Rob was notably absent. I was desperately curious to know where he was and what would come of a one-fanged Trainee, but this was definitely not the crowd to ask.

My gaze came to rest on Yasuo, standing front and center. This was obviously his party. “What’s the deal, Yas? You’ve got yourself a little gang now?”

“Gangster is in my blood.” He’d pronounced it gangsta.

I fought not to roll my eyes at the posturing. “Seriously? And I suppose these are your homeboys?”

“Dude’s from LA,” Colin cut in with a tough-boy nod.

“Dude’s from the valley,” I snapped, then turned my full attention to Yasuo. “You hated your father. But now you’re…what? Supposed to be all Yakuza like him?”

His response was a silent glower.

Now I did roll my eyes, taking in the lot of them. “Okay, gangsters. Riddle me this: I thought vampires were supposed to be solitary creatures.”

Yas took an aggressive step toward me. “You don’t know shit about me or vampires.”

I put my hands up. “Easy, cowboy.” I knew shit about both, in fact, but now wasn’t the time. Instead I asked, “What’s the plan here? You’re going to…what? Jump me? Do you really think you can do that here?” I glanced around to prove my point. “In the middle of the quad?”

Actually, I feared that was exactly what they wanted to do. And what would I do then? I’d felt so strong after my last feeding with Carden, but the effects were wearing off.

Where was he? I couldn’t get much more anxious than I was now. If he didn’t appear any second, I had a problem…actually, several problems, on many gut-wrenching levels, none of which I could spare a moment to contemplate just then.

Guidon Kenzie had helped me before, but there’d be no Proctor to save me now—she was in the dining hall, probably fork deep in beige slop. We’d given each other a nod in greeting as I walked out of the building and she’d walked in.

“Jump you. Right here.” Yasuo smiled a disturbingly vicious little smile. “Maybe that’s exactly what we’re going to do.”

I held my breath and waited, opening my senses to the universe, but I sensed only my complete solitude. Nope, no Carden. Despair wended its way a little deeper into my heart, and I blew out that breath. No knights in shining armor for me. No deus ex machina. It was just me. And I’d need to face this head-on. By myself.

But then a voice of reason spoke up, declaring a definitive “Chill out.”

I found the speaker easily enough—giant, blond, freckled farm boys tended to stand out from a crowd. It was Toby Engel. My Toby Engel.

“Take a chill,” Toby repeated. It wasn’t exactly sticking up for me, but it was close. This was his way of trying to get them to leave me alone. “Let’s just go, man. I want to eat.”

It appeared I wasn’t exactly completely by myself. I had Trainee Toby on my side. The Trainee Toby I’d been assigned to kill.

Alcántara really was an evil son of a bitch.

Common sense told me I needed to use this situation, to find my opening and finish my “assignment” for Alcántara.

Here was Toby, after all. His guard was down. Maybe I could come up with a way to take him. I could announce I’d go to the dining hall with him, and instead I’d find a way to hit him with one of the stars tucked in my boot and then run like hell out of there, hoping the other guys didn’t catch me. I’d be done with my assassination. Forget poetic. I could make something up after the fact. Something about how the stars come out at night, maybe. I could come up with some fancy explanation that’d satisfy Alcántara.

But I couldn’t do it. I caught Toby’s eye. Dim as a post, this one. Why was he even here? Ronan had said the word tractable, and that must’ve been it—the kid was dumb, easily swayed, and yet unnaturally brawny. But despite all that, Trainee Toby lacked the gleeful taste for violence that Yas and the others had discovered. This could’ve been my moment to take him unawares, and I couldn’t.

Ultimately, it didn’t matter. The guys made the decision for me.

“Fuck dinner,” Danny said, and they closed in.

They leapt for me, and it was an explosion of chaos, of arms and legs. Of my arms and legs, kicking and flailing, trying to wrestle free, all the while trying not to topple. I didn’t want to consider what would happen if I fell to the ground.