Crossroads (Crossroads Academy #1) (17 page)

“Me? I’m hardly a threat to them. Besides,
it’s not me that makes them nervous. It’s you. I see how they look
at you. Both of them.” He may be able to ignore it, but I’ve seen
their hungry eyes. They both want more than friendship and more
than he’s evidently willing to give.

“They’re my friends. Nothing more,” he says
raising his eyebrows. “Nothing less. Both have been loyal to me
over the years and both have proven reliable. Are they shallow?
Yes. Can they be a pain? Hell, yes. But, I wouldn’t trade them for
the world.” His solemn demeanor does me in. I find that I actually
want to believe him. Whether I like them or not, it’s reassuring to
know that he won’t sell them out just to get close to me or win my
approval.

Of course he wouldn’t. He accepts them for
who they are, no matter how flawed. Whatever they’ve done to earn
his respect, it won’t be easily shaken. This discovery is both
encouraging and discomforting at the same time. It’s good to see
Nik as an individual, a real person, instead of just a means to an
end. But, it could be dangerous as well. I have to be careful. I
don’t want to give too much of myself away in order to get what I
want.

“What about you?” he asks, turning the
tables. “You come here and you barely interact with anyone. We’ve
been working together for weeks, and I hardly know anything about
you. All you care about is becoming an elite fighter. Not exactly
girl next door behavior you know. What’s that all about?”

I shrug. “I know what I want. Is there
something wrong with that?”

“Wrong? No. Intriguing? Yes. I’ve never met
anyone like you. You’re so driven. So focused. I just wonder
why?”

“Why?” I’m stalling. I know it. He knows it.
But it doesn’t matter. We both know I’m not going to answer him
truthfully. Not completely truthfully anyway. He may be comfortable
baring his soul, but I’m not. Not by a long shot. “I don’t know.
When I went to live with Aldo, I began training with his Linkuri
guard, Viktor. It was empowering. It felt right. I’ve never lost
that feeling. And, if I want to be one of them, I have to be the
best.”

“I should’ve guessed,” he says, shaking his
head in wonder. I watch as he anxiously rubs his hands over his
well-muscled thighs.

“What?” I’m totally confused. I have no idea
what he’s talking about.

“It’s so obvious. We’re so much alike.” He
laughs then, his face alight with excitement, his blue eyes locked
on mine. I like him this way. Relaxed. Serious. Real. Not the
smartass relying on his charm and physique.

“It’s complicated,” he starts. “My parents
have high aspirations for me. I’m their only son—their legacy.
Crossroads is fine for Anya, but for me they have a grander plan.
They’ve had a different set of expectations since the day I was
born,” he says wearily.

I remember what Anya said about how Nik used
to be close to his parents. It’s clear why she used the past tense.
There doesn’t seem to be any love lost today.

“They believe that one day I will sit on the
Consiliul de Batrani. Their expectation is that I will someday join
the Elders. I, however, have my own ideas. Whether they approve or
not, it’s my life. Everything I’ve ever done is to prepare myself
for the Linkuri. It may not have as much prestige as the Council,
but it’s what I want. It’s what I’ve always wanted.”

“I’m lucky, I guess. Aldo will support me in
whatever I do. He would never push me into a life I didn’t want. I
guess I didn’t realize how important that was until now. Things
must get pretty tense when you’re home.”

“Only when the subject of school, politics,
or my future comes up,” he jokes, standing up. “Ready to get to
work?”

“Always.”

“Good. I was thinking of trying something new
today. Are you up for it?”

“I’m up for whatever you can throw at me. I
just hope that today it’s weapons training. I’ve been dying to get
beyond hand-to-hand.”

“You’re in luck then,” he says, clapping his
hands together excitedly.

We walk to the back wall of the training
center side by side. Before I can stop myself I’m sighing with
contentment. It’s a thing of beauty. The wall is lined with
weaponry. It starts at the floor and stretches up over my head.
There are weapons of all kinds. It would be impossible not to find
something you like. As I admire the sight, Nikolai sweeps his hand
over the wall in a broad gesture. “Ladies choice.”

I don’t even know where to start. I’d love to
master the katana sword, but logic tells me I should start simple.
Maybe a bo or the sai. A knife would be good, but there’s no doubt
in my mind that I probably want a weapon that can put more distance
between Nik and me until I’m more comfortable. I’m willing to
endure a little pain for the sake of training, but I have no
interest in getting cut to pieces today. I run my hands lovingly
over the protective case of the sword and promise myself that I
will graduate to this weapon eventually.

“What do you recommend?” I ask finally. It’s
clear I won’t be able to choose on my own. Besides, he’s been
through all of this before, so he probably knows where I should
really be starting.

“Let’s start with the bo. It’ll give you a
longer reach and can easily be incorporated with your martial arts
training.”

“Start basic and work our way up to the
marvels of modern man?” I ask, eyeing the locked arsenal.

“Katia, I promise that by the time I’m done
with you, you’ll be able to pick up any weapon in this room without
a moment of hesitation.”

“I like the sound of that,” I say pulling a
bo from the wall and spinning it in my hands to get a feel for the
weight. “Let’s get started.”

**********

“Tell me about your dreams,” Anya commands
plaintively. I had a feeling she wasn’t going to let them go after
our last session. I have to remind myself that I opened this can of
worms by telling her about the nightmares in the first place.

“I told you before. They’re no big deal.” I
have to fight the urge to squirm in my chair. I settle for twisting
my hair. I’m still not sleeping well, and the dreams are getting
progressively worse, but Anya doesn’t need to know that.

“Then you won’t mind talking about them.”
She’s eyeing me watchfully. I’ve seen this look before. It’s
usually followed by commentary I don’t like and don’t want to hear.
I brace myself for the worst. I know I have to keep my temper in
check with Anya today. “How often are you feeding?”

I lie. “I don’t know. Two or three times a
day?” The answer is actually more like four or five which I know is
a lot even for an adolescent. She’d be even more concerned if she
knew how much blood I was consuming just to keep myself functioning
properly.

“You’re under a great deal of stress, Katia.
Maybe we should lighten your course load?”

“No!” I protest anxiously. I scoot to the
edge of my chair, prepared to beg if that’s what it takes. “I can
handle it. Really.” I force a smile. I’m getting better at lying. I
feel like it’s all I’ve been doing since I got to Crossroads. Plus,
I know that if I drop classes I’ll just have to make them up later.
“I can handle the work and my dreams.”

“I asked you last time what you thought they
meant and you said nothing. Do you still think that?” she asks
quietly.

“Yes.” I am emphatic on this point. I refuse
to give my nightmares credence by wondering at their meaning. It’s
bad enough they’re costing me precious sleep. When I looked in the
mirror this morning, I could hardly believe my own eyes. I know I
look terrible. The hollowness of my face is a testament to my
exhaustion.

“The man from your dreams, the one with the
red eyes, have you dreamt of him recently?”

“Why? What difference does it make?” I snap
irritably.

“It’s just a question. Why are you getting so
upset?” Anya asks gently, pushing her dark hair back from her face.
She’s not nearly as soft and innocent as I’d imagined when we first
met. I now realize that there’s no haircut in the world that could
make her less formidable. I’d been so naïve that day at the
airport.

I cross my arms defiantly and shift my chair
so I don’t have to look her in the eye. We both know why I’m upset.
It’s obvious. That creepy monster has been in my dreams more
frequently. Always stalking me. Always trapping me like a caged
animal.

“Yes. He’s in my dreams. All the time.” I
admit, answering her original question. I hate conceding this. It’s
just another weakness that she can exploit at a later time.

“Why do you think that is? Is he someone you
know? Someone from your past maybe?”

Yeah, right. Is she serious? Where I grew up
the men didn’t have inhuman red eyes, and she knows it. “I don’t
know. I don’t think so. But there is a sense of… familiarity.”

“A connection?” she prods, eyes blazing.

“They’re just dreams, Anya. Nothing more,” I
tell her firmly. “You were right about one thing, though,” I
say.

“What’s that?”

“Nik. He’s kept his word. We’re training
together again.”

She smiles smugly. “I told you so.”

**********

“Why are we doing this again?” I ask, eyeing
the street carolers warily. Their cheery rendition of Frosty the
Snowman makes me want to turn and run.

“Because I need to get a Christmas present
for Keegan.” Shaye speaks to me slowly as though reminding a small
child of an important task. “Don’t you need to get something for
Aldo?” she asks hopefully. “The holidays are right around the
corner. This could be your last chance to shop.”

“What do you get the man who has everything?
I wouldn’t even have the first idea of what to get him. Lissette
will be easier.”

I used to love the holidays. Christmas cheer,
the smell of freshly baked cookies, peace on Earth, and good will
toward men. All of it. I’m not really feeling it this year though.
I’m just relieved that Shaye wanted to come downtown and hit the
specialty shops instead of going to the mall. The Rutland mall is
downright dismal. I made the mistake of going there once for a pair
of sneakers. It’s not a mistake I’ll make again.

Strolling along the streets of downtown
Rutland, I find it easy to push aside any feelings of nostalgia and
focus on the task at hand. There’s very little here to remind me of
home. The towns’ usual feeling of quaintness is exacerbated for the
holidays. The city has strung colored lights all along the store
fronts and street lamps. It’s probably quite pretty at night. As we
navigate our way along the busy sidewalk, it’s clear I’m one of the
few who hasn’t been swept up in the mood of the season.

“Bah humbug.”

“You must have some ideas?” Shaye whines
piteously. “What do you think Keegan would like?”

“How should I know? I can’t even figure out
what to get Aldo. Or weren’t you listening?”

“Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed.
Where is your holiday cheer?” she sulks, throwing her gloved hands
in the air and shaking her head in frustration. “This is supposed
to be fun!” Apparently my lack of spirit is trying her patience. I
feel a little guilty for ruining her fun, but I did warn her about
my mood before we left. Still, she’d insisted on having company,
and I agreed to make the best of it. I know I’m not keeping up my
end of the deal.

“I’m going to check out the bookstore,” she
tells me as we approach Amy’s. “Feel free to join me if you think
you can fake some enthusiasm.”

“I’ll catch up,” I tell her halfheartedly. I
watch as Shaye eagerly disappears into the dimly lit store. The
bells on the door chime softly to announce her presence to the shop
owner.

“Bah humbug,” I repeat taking a seat on the
wooden bench out front of the store. I’ll pretend to be happier
when Shaye returns, but for the time being I’m pleased to just be
left alone with my acerbic mood. It’s not something I can explain
to Shaye, but the looming holiday is just another sad reminder of
my old life, of everything I’ve lost.

I watch as the humans scurry past, their
breath clouding on the crisp air. Everyone is bundled up in their
warmest winter clothing. It’s a rainbow of scarves, parkas, and
beanies. I make a point of counting all of the hats with a pom-pom
on top. Those were always my favorite as a child. I count seven of
them before my game is interrupted by the squeals of a child.

I smile in spite of myself as a little boy
charges past, his cheeks aglow from the bitter cold. He can’t be
more than eight or nine years old. There’s a devilish gleam in his
eye, as he runs by with his coat unzipped and his Spiderman scarf
trailing behind. I see his mom further down the block laden with
shopping bags. She’s given chase, but is no match for this boy on a
mission.

“You stop at the corner Damian!” she shouts
breathlessly. A wise warning as the street is thick with traffic
today. The cars whiz past, most of them obeying the speed
limit.

I return my attention to the boy, Damian,
just in time to see him skidding to a halt on the corner no more
than ten feet from where I sit. He didn’t stop soon enough. He
slips on the ice and his momentum carries him forward, tumbling
into the street. I’m off the bench before he hits the ground. He’s
paralyzed with fear as he stares down the bumper of an approaching
F-150. His eyes grow as wide as saucers and his mouth hangs open in
a silent scream, but he doesn’t make a sound.

Lucky for Damian I grab the back of his
jacket and yank him back to safety as the truck barrels past,
leaving us in a plume of exhaust. The stench of burning rubber is
in the air. The driver had tried to stop, but he never would have
been able to. The truck slows but continues down the road. Crisis
averted. The driver has decided to keep going. He’s probably just
as scared and relieved as Damian. Hell, as scared and relieved as
myself.