Crossroads (Crossroads Academy #1) (23 page)

It’s over in the blink of an eye and then,
without a word, Nik is gone. Probably afraid I’ll squash more than
his toes this time. My fingers flutter to my swollen lips looking
for confirmation of the tryst. I stand there dumbfounded wondering
if I didn’t imagine the whole thing, as Blaine shoves past me
angrily.

**********

“Can’t a vamp get a little sleep around
here?” I mumble, pulling the blankets over my head. The ball didn’t
fizzle out until dawn, and I am sure that a look at the clock will
confirm that I’ve only been asleep for a couple of hours. I feel
like crap. If I could just sleep a little later, I’m sure I’d feel
better. But the incessant pounding at my door doesn’t end.

“Alright. I’m coming!” I shout throwing back
the blanket. “Patience is a virtue, you know!” I have no idea who
would come knocking so early, but, since they’re interrupting my
sleep, I’m not worried about being polite.

Yikes! The mirror is not particularly
forgiving this morning. I do my best to smooth my hair down and
throw a robe on over my thin cotton nightgown, figuring false
modesty is better than no modesty.

When I open the door I’m surprised to find
Aldo standing there. “Is everything okay?” I have no idea what
could have brought him to my door at this hour.

“Everything is fine, Katia. I’m glad to see
you’re up and about,” he says, eyeing my unsightly bedhead. He’s
humoring me. We both know I’m not a morning person.

“Me?” I ask unabashed as I wave him into the
room and close the door. “I’ve been up for hours.”

“As have I, I’m afraid.” The jovial front is
gone. This can’t be good. “Unfortunately, Lissette and I are going
to have to cut our visit short. There are pressing matters back
home which require my immediate attention.”

I don’t bother asking what the pressing
matters are. Much of Aldo’s work with the Council requires secrecy,
so it’s pointless to ask. “I’m sorry to see you leaving so soon. I
wish we’d had more time together.” He’ll appreciate my honesty.

“I know, My Dear, but such is life.” He
shakes his head in regret.

“I understand,” I tell him, taking his solid
hand in mine. “Besides, summer break will be here before you know
it, and I’ll be home at the manor with you and Lissette.”

“We are looking forward to it,” he tells me,
sitting down at the desk and making himself comfortable. “Before I
go, there are some things we should talk about.”

I wonder if I’m in trouble. Lissette promised
not to tell him about my work detail. I’m sure she’s kept her word.
Did he talk to Professor Lynch last night? I can’t bear the thought
of disappointing Aldo. What could he want to talk about that can’t
wait?

“Have you been dreaming recently?”

Oh. I should have known. For crying out loud,
why is everyone so interested in my dreams? I quickly contemplate
my options and decide that Aldo deserves the truth. “Yes. The
dreams are changing,” I admit, rubbing my wrist awkwardly. “They’re
getting more vivid, more intense.”

“And more frequent?”

“Yes.” When I’d left the manor the dreams had
all but diminished. I had hoped I’d be free of them at Crossroads.
I’m sure Aldo had shared my sentiments.

“Hmm.” He taps his fingers on the desk
thoughtfully, as though trying to make sense of this news. “And
you’re talking to Anya about them?”

“Anya is aware of the dreams.” It’s not a
direct answer, and it doesn’t escape his notice.

“You can trust Anya.” He knows I’ve been
holding back. “She may be able to put your mind at ease, if you
would just open up to her.”

“What do I need Anya for when I’ve got you?”
I smile halfheartedly.

“You know I can’t always be there for you
Katia. I just want to make sure that you are safe and well
protected at all times.”

His meaning evades me. I wonder if we’re
still talking about my dreams or if it’s something more. We both
know there’s a lot at stake.

He picks up the bloodstone necklace from the
desk where I left it and rubs the stone idly between his fingers.
“It pleases me to see you wear this.” He smiles sadly, no doubt
thinking of his sister. “You remind me of her, you know.”

“I’m honored,” I tell him sincerely. This is
my opportunity to ask him about the things Keegan told me, about
the psychic connection between sire and protégé. I’m deeply
curious, but I hold back my questions. I’m having second thoughts
about asking Aldo directly. I’m still not fully convinced that the
connection exists, but I don’t like the idea of him holding out on
me either, and I get the feeling this was not an omission by
oversight. What I can’t figure out is why Aldo didn’t tell me
himself? What is he afraid of?

“Glad
to be finished with work detail?” Keegan asks, as I hand him my
filthy gloves. “Have you been scared straight never to cross
Headmaster Pratt again?”

“No offense, but I am most definitely glad
it’s over,” I laugh, wrinkling my nose. “I am dying to get my off
campus privileges back.” It could’ve been worse, but I’m starting
to feel claustrophobic and stir crazy. I need the freedom to come
and go as I please. Well, as much as I please within the rules of
the school.

“Too bad you couldn’t go on the ski trip
today. Killington is reporting fresh powder on the slopes.” He
looks depressed. He probably wishes he were on the trip.

“Truth be told, I’m not that interested in
Killington. Plus I have some studying to do. I plan to make the
most of the quiet library this afternoon.” Most of the students
have gone on the trip and aren’t expected back until late this
evening. I’m not really planning to study, but it’s close to the
truth. I plan to use the time to do a little research. I will scour
every corner of the library if I have to in order to find out more
about the transfiguration of a human and the ensuing bond with the
sire.

“Well, off with you then.” Anxious to get to
the library, I bolt when he releases me. Halfway to the door it
occurs to me that I haven’t thanked Keegan properly.

“Keegan, I want you to know that I couldn’t
have asked for a better work detail. It’s been nice getting to know
you,” I tell him awkwardly. I’m not good at stuff like this and can
tell by the look on his face that he feels as uncomfortable as I
do. “I don’t have a lot of friends here, but I count you among
them. So thanks.”

“Aye. I’d be proud to call you my friend.” He
smiles cheerfully. “Besides, you’re not the biggest pain in the
arse they’ve ever given me for work detail.”

I swing by my room and grab my laptop and
some notebooks before heading to the library. It’s housed in the
same wing as our classrooms which are freakishly quiet in the
absence of students. My footfalls echo on the wooden floors
exaggerating my isolation. The library is unattended. Probably an
oversight, but I take it as a sign of good fortune.

I set myself up at a rectangular table in the
back of the library. Since I’m alone today, there’s no need to sit
at one of the cramped study carrels for privacy. I boot up my
laptop and toss the notebooks on the table. Now what? I have no
clue where to start. Guess that’s the down side of no
librarian.

I haven’t really been in the library much
since coming to Crossroads, but I know there’s an electronic card
catalogue near the front desk. It’s as good a place as any to
start. I step up to the dummy terminal and begin making impulsive
selections when the search engine pops up.

In an effort to be discreet I uncheck the
option for ‘Search other libraries’. I don’t want to have books
shipped in from other locations any more than I want to wait for
answers. I’ll have to make do with whatever I can find in the
Crossroads library today. I try searching for ‘mixed-blood’ first
and get five pages of results. I rack my brain for more specific
key words and find that I have better luck with ‘transfiguration’
and ‘sire’. This cuts my results down to a page and a half of
promising leads. I hit Ctrl-P and wait as the laser printer spits
out my list of titles and the books’ locations within the
library.

I’m not a big fan of the Dewey Decimal
System, but I fare alright with the aid of the signs posted on each
of the library stacks. I had hoped, naively it turns out, that the
books on my list would be confined to one section of the library.
Much to my chagrin, they’re scattered all over the place. With the
exception of one book which is not on the shelf, I collect
everything on my list.

I pile the books on my table and get to work.
The first book is titled ‘The Glorious Transfiguration.” How
cliché, I think rolling my eyes. I scan the Table of Contents and
decide it’s worth a look. Twenty minutes later it’s clear I’m
wasting my time. The book doesn’t get beyond the basics. Get
bitten, toxins are excreted from the fangs, blah, blah, infection
spreads, body mutates becoming stronger, faster, virtually
indestructible, blah, blah, blah, live forever and experience the
world to its fullest as a superior being. It’s propaganda. It hits
all the highlights but skips the down and dirty details. There’s
nothing of the hellish pain of transfiguration or the never-ending
thirst that will rule your life. No mention of the agony of
watching everyone around you wither and die. I’m half convinced the
book was written to sell the idea of vampirism to humans; as if
most of them would need convincing. There are scores of humans who
would trade anything to be like us.

Refusing to be discouraged I fan out the
remaining books, determined to find one that has the information I
need. The relationship between the sire and those they’ve
transfigured has to be documented somewhere. I strike out with the
next two books as well. I learn some interesting facts that help
solidify my understanding of our bloodlines and the factors that
contribute to a vampires’ strength such as age and purity of blood.
It’s educational, but it’s not what I’m looking for.

I hit the pay-dirt on the fourth book. I
almost pass it over due to the technical content, but I ultimately
decide that it’s better to be thorough. There’s a lot of scientific
stuff I don’t fully understand, but I get the gist of it all. At
least I think I do. As it turns out, Keegan was right. Years of
clinical trials have shown evidence that a complex psychic
connection does exist between a pureblood sire and the vampires
that he or she has turned. Although there is sufficient statistical
evidence to prove that the connection is real, explaining how it
works is more difficult. The book leaves a lot of room for
interpretation of this phenomenon dubbed the Vampiric Nexus.

I read several theories which I don’t really
buy into, despite my own ability to see the life-force of those I
taste. It all seems far-fetched, and I want something fact based.
Hypothesizing that consanguinity stems from the exchange of blood
seems unlikely. Could it really be the result of sharing the same
virus? Could the toxins really put each brain they touch on the
same wavelength? That would mean the virus is not the same for each
vampire. Each strain would be a little different like human DNA.
That might also explain some of the differences in how our bodies
function. Why isn’t there more conclusive data? It’s so damn
frustrating that I want to rip my hair out. I decide to move on.
It’s more important to understand how it works and why Aldo’s kept
it from me than it is to understand the cause.

Further reading reveals that the Nexus has
been tested in innumerable ways since its discovery. Apparently
it’s just another way for the purebloods to hold the transfigured
captive. Like Gabriel, many have exploited the Nexus for personal
gain. If the data is accurate, the Nexus is strongest at the
beginning when a new vampire has just been transfigured. If
fostered the bond can grow to be iron tight, with the sire having
complete control over the mind of the mixed-blood. The Nexus is a
means of reciprocity, allowing the sire to communicate psychically
and invade the mind stealing thoughts and feelings. Some have
proven capable of overcoming the Nexus with extreme discipline and
mind strengthening exercises, but the only way to completely sever
the bond is death. It’s not a particularly comforting
discovery.

I lean back in my chair contemplating what
I’ve read. The sun is setting, and I’m running out of time. Might
as well pack up for the day. I’ve gotten what I came for, and I
doubt I’ll find better information in the remaining books. Not
wanting to leave any signs of my presence or my research, I gather
up the books so that I can return them to their respective homes on
the shelf.

As I slot the books, I find myself wondering
about the studies I’ve just read. I wonder how many of the
participants were willing subjects. Were they slaves like Keegan,
or did they do it for another reason? What would motivate them to
go through such rigorous testing? It couldn’t have been pleasant. I
ponder these things and more until my thoughts are interrupted by
the sound of falling books. I’m positive I was alone in the library
when I entered the stacks, but now it sounds like I have
company.

Should I call out and announce my presence or
should I try to sneak out unseen? I’ve gotten rid of all of the
books so there’s no evidence of my research. It’s probably best to
be forthright. If it’s a professor I don’t want to be accused of
sneaking around, although that’s exactly what I’m doing. Not
wanting to arouse suspicion, I elect to make my presence know.

“Hello?”

No reply. I try again.

“Hello? Who’s there?”

Still no answer. I emerge from the stacks to
discover that I am alone. The pile of books laying on the floor to
my right proves that someone else was here just moments ago. I
didn’t imagine the crash of books. They were knocked from the
overflowing return cart. Something isn’t right. It’s time to
go.