Crossroads (Crossroads Academy #1) (24 page)

I turn to collect my things and stop dead in
my tracks when I realize that my laptop is gone. It’s been stolen.
I can hardly believe my eyes. I can’t believe this is happening.
How could I be so careless? Blind panic sets in. I don’t know how I
get back to my room. I don’t remember the walk. Or dialing Aldo’s
number. His cool voice comes on the line, and it takes me a minute
to realize it’s a recording. Voice mail. I leave a short message
demanding that he call me as soon as possible. I disconnect and
throw the phone on the bed. With nowhere else to turn, it’s time to
find out if Anya can really be trusted.

I find her working in her office. No surprise
there. I rudely let myself in not bothering to knock or wait for an
invitation to enter.

“We need to talk.”

“What is it? What’s wrong Katia?” She closes
the file she’s working on and gives me her full attention as she
stands and comes around the desk.

“My computer was stolen today. In the
library.”

“Are you sure? You couldn’t have lost
it?”

Is she for real? “No. I didn’t lose it.
Someone took it. I was in the stacks and when I came back, it was
gone.”

“Okay. Well, I’ll take it up with Headmaster
Pratt tomorrow. Theft will not be tolerated.” She doesn’t get it.
It’s painfully obvious that she doesn’t comprehend the seriousness
of the situation. She sits down on the edge of her desk looking
relieved. “You really scared me, Katia. I thought something
terrible happened. It’s just a computer. It can be replaced if we
don’t recover it.”

“You don’t understand. There are things on
that computer that can’t be seen. Things I can’t explain. Things
that would jeopardize Aldo. And you.” It’s a stretch, but it’s no
secret how much time Anya and I spend together. They’d never
believe she didn’t know. Or at least suspect. She is a Psychologist
after all. She’s trained to observe and analyze.

“Don’t threaten me, Katia.” Her voice is
edgy, her anger thinly veiled. I’ve violated her trust. Funny, I
always thought it would be the other way around. Still, I don’t
have time for guilt.

“It’s not a threat. I am just trying to make
you understand. It was so stupid. So careless. How could I let this
happen?” I drop into one of the visitors’ chairs and bury my face
in my hands, my dark hair spilling over my fact like a curtain.

“Let’s not panic. Who was there with you? Did
you see anyone?”

“No one. The library was deserted.”

“Okay. What about your computer. You had
security on it, right? Encryption? A pass code?”

“Of course. But I’m sure it can be hacked. It
happens all the time, doesn’t it?” I’m appalled by the hysteria in
my own voice. It’s not me I’m worried about. It’s Aldo and Anya.
“What are we going to do?”

“We aren’t going to do anything. You are
going to go back to your room and get some rest. All we can do is
wait it out. We cannot panic, and we cannot jump to
conclusions.”

“But—”

“No.” She cuts me off forcefully. “Do as I
say Katia. If anything changes, if I have any reason to believe
you’re in danger, I’ll get you out of here. Until then, you act
normally. You go to class and follow your routine. Got it?”

Anya is taking control, and, for once, I’m
glad to let someone else take the lead. I’ve already made enough of
a mess with my carelessness. For the first time, I truly see Anya
as an ally not an adversary. She’s willing to assume even more risk
to protect us. Aldo was right to trust her. Too bad I didn’t see it
sooner. Things could have been much easier for both of us.

“Yes.” I agree because I have no other
choice. I know she’s right. All we can do it wait and hope for the
best. My throat is dry. I’m thirsty. I’ll go back to my room and
feed. Then I’ll sleep. I’ll do exactly as Anya tells me. Tomorrow,
I’ll get up and go to class. Everything will be normal. Routine is
good.

**********

I’m running through the woods again. It’s
different this time. The sky is an inky black and there is no moon
to light my way tonight. These woods are more familiar to me; not
full of stark skeletal trees like before. These trees are less
foreboding. Pines and firs abound; their branches thick with
needle-like leaves and prickly cones. I plunge forward, swatting
errant branches from my path. I know he’s behind me and probably
gaining ground. The hunter.

He’s driving me uphill. With every step I
take, my escape routes become fewer. I need to turn and head back,
even if it means temporarily closing the gap between us. But I have
to be smart about it. I have to be controlled. Every noise I make,
every snapping branch, is a song calling him to me.

I catch the scent of smoke before I see the
thick plumes reaching for the sky. Could this get any worse? The
smoke billows around me spreading at an alarming rate. The heat of
the flames is right on my heels, tearing through the forest and
scorching everything in its path. This is another of his tricks.
Another means of terrorizing me.

I crest the top of the mountain and make a
sharp ninety degree turn marking the start of my descent. It’s
risky. This path will take me right along the perimeter of the
fire, but I don’t see any other choice. If I continue straight down
the other side, he’ll find me for sure. This is my best chance to
evade him assuming I can withstand the flames.

I am able to cover the terrain more quickly
moving downhill. I hug the tree line staying as close to the fire
as I dare, hoping it will mask my scent and the sounds of my
retreat. The thought of his fangs on my neck gives me a burst of
energy, and I surge forward. I have to get out of here.

The smoke is becoming thicker, making it
difficult to see more than a few feet ahead. I am forced to slow my
pace to a steady jog. It’s impossible to tell which direction I’m
going now. I’ve completely lost my bearings, not that it matters
much since I don’t really know where I am. I drop to a fast walk
and rub my eyes with the backs of my hands. They come away black.
I’m covered in ash that has rained down from the dark sky.

As I stand there trying to wipe the soot from
my face, he speaks. “I knew I’d find you eventually.” His voice is
disturbing to say the least. It has the lilt of someone who’s about
to come completely unhinged, of someone who has only the slightest
grasp on reality. I still don’t know what he wants, but I’m not
about to ask. Instead I crouch into a fighting stance and prepare
myself for the inevitable.

Like before, his hand emerges first. It’s
just as chalky and white as I remember. Oddly, the dream smoke does
not soil his skin as it has mine. I try not to let my fear show
when he steps forth, his beady red eyes fixed on me. He still wears
the hood so I can’t see much of his face, a small thing for which I
am grateful. I know with certainty that I am in the presence of a
monster. Sickness radiates from him enveloping both of us. I find
myself backing away from him in an attempt to put more distance
between us. It feeds his excitement. Those deranged eyes are
dancing with thirst.

Before I know what’s happening, several pairs
of hands descend upon me. They catch me by surprise, tearing at my
clothes, my hair, my face. Scratching, clawing, biting. Blood pours
down my shoulder. I break free and whip around to face my
attackers. Their arms protrude from the oily black smoke; it
doesn’t faze them in the least. They emerge from the smoldering
flames and recognition hits me.

I know each and every last one of them.
Not their names, but their faces. I remember every sad story, every
damaged spirit, every broken body. I can hardly bear it. I’d rather
die than face them. I crash to the ground screaming with delirium.
They descend on me like vultures. Their hollow eyes say what their
lips cannot. They want what I took from them. They want
revenge
.

I
oversleep in the morning, courtesy of the snooze button. When I
finally wake up, it’s all I can do to get myself out of bed I’m so
tired. Last night’s dream was especially draining. The dreams are
getting worse. I have to figure out how to control them, but I’ll
have to worry about that later. Right now I need to get to class.
Anya’s right. Maintaining normalcy is important. Besides, she won’t
be happy if she thinks I intentionally disobeyed her
instructions.

I dress quickly in jeans and a long sleeved
t-shirt and throw my hair up in a knot. There isn’t time for much
else. I’m dying of thirst and feel the beginnings of hunger pains.
I hurriedly pour two pouches of blood into a thermos and head for
class. Feeding in the hallways is discouraged, but I haven’t got a
lot of options since I’m already late. Breaking such an
insignificant rule is the least of my worries right now.

It looks like I might actually be on time
when Anya grabs my arm roughly and leads me into an empty
classroom. My first thought is that I’ve been exposed. But if that
were the case, she would have come to my dorm, wouldn’t she? I go
with my second best guess.

“I’m sorry,” I begin defensively. “I know I’m
not supposed to be feeding in the hall, but I overslept.”

She waves me off. She’s smiling. Now I’m
really confused. If I’m not in trouble, then what is so urgent?

“It’s your lucky day!” She pulls my laptop
from her shoulder bag and hands it to me. “The librarian found
it.”

That can’t be right. It doesn’t even make
sense. “What do you mean the librarian found it? I told you,
someone took it.”

“Then they must’ve brought it back.” She
shrugs as if this is a perfectly reasonable explanation. “I went to
the library to see Professor Toddy thinking I would warn her about
the theft and notify her of your missing laptop. The next thing I
know, she tells me that she found it on her desk this morning. It
was just lying there when she showed up. She had no idea where it
came from or who it belonged to.”

“Why would someone steal it and then bring it
back the very next day?” I’m not convinced this is as straight
forward as it seems.

“I don’t know, Katia. Guilt? Fear? Inability
to actually break the pass code and use it? Who cares why they
returned it? I thought you’d just be thrilled to have it back.”

I turn the case over in my hands inspecting
it for signs of damage. It looks perfectly sound, just as I left
it, but I still don’t have a good feeling about this. It will be
impossible to tell if the security codes have been broken. All I
can do is assume that they haven’t been compromised until I have
evidence to suggest otherwise.

**********

I’m nervous as I enter the training center.
I’m glad to see Nik, and I won’t be sparring alone today. There are
several other students working out. It’s our first session of the
new semester. I haven’t seen Nik since New Year’s Eve when he
kissed me. I haven’t really thought about it much since then
either. I haven’t had the time, and, in the grand scheme of things,
a kiss is pretty insignificant. It was, after all, just one little
kiss.

Mostly, I’m annoyed that Nik seems hell-bent
on screwing things up between us. I just want to train and become
the best fighter that he can make me. Why can’t he accept that? We
were just starting to find our rhythm, and I’m hoping that nothing
has changed. I’m anxious to continue with the aggressive training
schedule. I won’t let my nightmares or anything else get in the
way.

“Hey, Katia.” His greeting is friendly. His
attitude relaxed. Maybe I don’t have anything to worry about. Maybe
New Year’s was a fluke. Perhaps he just got caught up in the
moment.

Yeah, right. Who am I kidding? I don’t
believe that for a second. I’ve seen the intensity with which he
approaches his training, his studies, everything in his life. He’s
not one to get swept up in the moment. I’ll just have to ignore it.
I won’t give him any encouragement. It’ll be fine. Probably.

“Hi.” It’s as much of a greeting as I can
muster with my mind in turmoil.

“Good news,” he tells me as he stands. “I
spoke to Garcia about getting you moved up to a more advanced
class. He’s agreed.”

“Really?” It’s difficult to hide my
excitement. This is something I really wanted, and I was starting
to get anxious about Garcia’s decision. I figured if I didn’t hear
anything before classes started up again then it was a no-go.

“He’s working it out with Pratt. It will mean
some minor changes to your schedule, but you’ll be far more
challenged.” He pauses, smiling playfully. “Of course, Garcia’s
other assistants aren’t nearly as skilled, but you’ll have to make
do. Just don’t let them screw up all of my hard work.”

It hadn’t occurred to me that I’d be moved
from Nik’s class. I’m surprised to discover that I’m actually
disappointed by this news. At least he’d agreed to continue the
one-on-one sessions. I reason that I’ll have the best of both
worlds. I’ll have the opportunity to spar with other partners in
class while getting individual instruction from Nik in the
evenings. It should allow me to accelerate my training even more.
And that’s what matters most, isn’t it?

“So, what’s on the agenda for today?” I ask
joining him at the back wall. See? Just push all that other crap
aside and focus on what really matters: training. “I’m getting
tired of sparring. Can we move on to something else? Maybe mix it
up a little?”

“Tired of getting beat?” he teases with his
‘I know how good I look with my dark hair falling over my eyes’
smile.

He’s kidding, but it still burns a little. I
refuse to let him bait me today. “I’d like to try the
crossbow.”

“Solid choice.” At least he approves of my
taste in weaponry. “Have you shot one before?”

“Nope.” I resist the urge to tell him that,
if I knew how to use it, I obviously wouldn’t need him.

“You’re going to love this.” He selects a
crossbow from the wall and hands it to me. It’s not what I’d
expected. It’s far more modern than I had imagined. The metal shaft
is cool on my hands, and I note that it’s got some weight to it.
The shape is similar to a rifle and it has even got a scope mount
for accuracy. Across the stock there is a bow that stretches
horizontally in both directions. I estimate it’s a foot and a half
wide. It looks and feels powerful. I would be willing to bet the
crossbow is military grade. I can’t wait to shoot it.