Crossroads (Crossroads Academy #1) (27 page)

“Damian Thomas, eight years old, disappeared
on his way home from school last Wednesday. Thomas, a student at
Rutland Elementary, was last seen walking away from the school on
Temple Street. Police have no leads and no suspects at this time.
However, we’ve just been advised of a new development in the case.
WPBX’s Devon Rhodes is on the scene.”

The camera cuts away from the studio and goes
to a live feed. Devon Rhodes is standing at the edge of the forest
surrounded by police and emergency vehicles. The one that catches
my eye has the bold words ‘Medical Examiner’ stamped on its
side.

“Hi Addison. I’m here at Green Mountain
National Forest where I’m told police have just made a gruesome
discovery. Hikers found the remains of a human body which police
and emergency personnel are working to extricate from the woods at
this time. It’s too early to tell for sure, but a source tells me
these are not the remains of Damian Thomas. Although a positive
identification has not yet been made, I’m told this is likely an
adult.”

“Do you have any indication of cause of
death, Devon? Was this a hiking accident?” Addison asks, cutting
in.

“No one here is saying for sure, but early
reports suggest that the body was severely mutilated indicating the
possibility of an animal attack or something more sinister. I don’t
want to upset our viewers unnecessarily, but WPBX will stay on the
scene until we have more answers.”

There’s a flurry of activity at the edge of
the forest, and the camera pans away from Rhodes. Although he’s no
longer on screen, he continues his commentary for the viewers at
home.

“If you have small children watching, you may
want them to leave the room. Some of the images you’re about to see
are graphic in nature and are intended for mature audiences only.”
He pauses to show respect although the camera keeps rolling. “It
looks like they’re bringing the body out now.”

We all stare in morbid fascination, as the
camera zooms in on the stretcher emerging from the woods. It’s
carried by a team of uniformed men. It’s nothing like what they
show in the movies. The body isn’t encased in a black plastic bag,
just covered in a sterile white sheet. I wonder if they’d hoped to
resuscitate the victim. They probably weren’t expecting a news crew
on the scene. As we watch a red stain blossoms on the sheet,
revealing that the body was indeed in bad condition.

“This is a tragic scene,” Rhodes cuts in,
stepping back in front of the camera. Thankfully, it seems he’s
decided the public has seen enough. “The Rutland P.D. will have
their work cut out for them on this case. Between the wooded
location and the rain we had yesterday, evidence collection may
prove difficult.”

Just as the story is about to wrap up,
there’s more commotion off camera.

“Oh, my!” Rhodes gasps, momentarily losing
his composure. The camera shifts again, and we can see a couple
struggling with the police screaming and crying. They appear to be
trying to get closer to the body. “Joe and Jeanette Thomas, Damian
Thomas’ parents, have just arrived at the scene. It doesn’t look
like police were expecting them. What a difficult situation. I’m
sure they’re anxious to know if this is their child.”

That’s the trouble with a small town, I
think. News spreads quickly. It was stupid of the police to think
the Thomas’ wouldn’t have known immediately about the body in the
woods. Police scanners are a dime a dozen. As soon as the call went
out, they probably knew about it. The whole thing is unsettling to
watch. I wish Lynch would turn it off. These people aren’t city
people. They aren’t used to this kind of violence touching their
lives. Their pain is palpable. Even the anchor, Rhodes, is
struggling to maintain his professionalism in the face of such
overwhelming grief.

“And now back to you in the studio,
Addison.”

“Thanks, Devon. What a tragic week for the
people of Rutland. But, for now, it seems we can all keep praying
that Damian Thomas may still be brought home safely. Remember, you
heard it here first on WPBX, Vermont’s number one source for
breaking news.”

Lynch shuts off the projector and addresses
the class. “Terrible, terrible stuff.” He looks grim. This new
development, the mangled body in the woods, doesn’t look good, and
he knows it. This thing might be coming closer to Crossroads before
it’s over.

“Professor, what do you make of the body in
the woods?” one of my classmates asks.

“Too early to tell,” he replies pensively.
“It could very well be an animal attack. These things happen
occasionally, and it’s about the right time for the bear population
to wake from hibernation. They’ll wake hungry.”

“You don’t think this is tied to the missing
boy? That seems like an awfully big coincidence if you ask me,”
Lexie weighs in. “It’s just dreadful to think someone at Crossroads
could’ve done this, jeopardizing all of us. The least they could’ve
done was cover their tracks.”

“It’s in our nature to feed on the lifeblood
of other creatures. It’s natural,” Lynch responds. “However, if a
student from this school has broken the rules, he or she will be
dealt with accordingly. Either way, we shouldn’t jump to any
conclusions Miss Worthington. There is no conclusive evidence to
prove that either of these cases is a vampire attack.”

Blaine raises his hand. He doesn’t speak much
in class, but when he does it’s usually appalling. I prepare myself
for the worst.

“Besides, even if these were vampire attacks,
it’s like you said Professor Lynch. It’s in our nature. Maybe
leniency should be given. Maybe the individual responsible was
unable to control the thirst. Vampires kill humans every day around
the world without fear of reprisal from the Linkuri. Why is it such
a big deal if two of these deaths are close to the school? Why does
that make it any worse?”

“Interesting question,” Lynch agrees. “I’m
not sure it’s a question of being better or worse, Blaine. The real
issue isn’t the murder, per se. It’s the matter of exposure.
Assuming that these were vampire attacks, feeding in such close
proximity to the school and leaving such a blatant trail puts us
all at risk. It’s no different than turning one who feeds freely
and draws too much attention to our existence. The Council is very
clear on this point. Both are punishable by death.”

**********

The news of the body in the woods spreads
like the plague. By lunch it’s all anyone is talking about. I sit
with Shaye in the dining hall, feeling the need for a little
vampire contact. My mood is abysmal, though, and even Shaye’s
outrageous clothes can’t get a smile out of me. We’re both feeding
heavily today. As Shaye starts on her third glass, she notices me
eyeing her. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen her drink so much in one
sitting.

“What? I have to keep my strength up,” she
says by way of explanation. “I’ve been tired lately. I don’t want
to have a relapse.”

Her words cut me. Her tone is light, but it’s
a reminder of what a poor friend I’ve been. I haven’t asked her how
she’s doing in weeks. We barely had the chance to talk about her
meeting with Dr. Philips on New Year’s Eve. At the time she’d been
far more interested in hearing about how Nik cornered me with the
unsolicited and unwanted kiss. I remember she’d been jealous again.
Not that I’d kissed Nik. She’d thought that was great news, being
that she thinks he’s divine. She’d been jealous that he was free to
publicly display his feelings for me, something she and Keegan
couldn’t do.

“I’m a terrible friend,” I blurt out. “I’ve
been so focused on my own problems that I haven’t been there for
you.” I know I’ve been selfish. Sure, I didn’t want to burden her
with my troubles, but I also didn’t want to share them. “How are
you doing Shaye?”

“I’m fine. Really. What about you?” She
resumes sucking on her straw. I watch as the red fluid climbs to
the top and disappears beyond her lips.

“I don’t know. I feel like I’m losing my
mind. This thing in Rutland has me worried.” I toy with my own
straw, swirling the blood in my glass.

“Tell me about it. They’d better get it
figured out quickly. It’s bad for us, but it’s also going to be bad
for summer tourism if it gets much worse.”

“Do you think it could really be someone
here?”

“Why not? It probably wouldn’t be the first
time someone at Crossroads has killed, and there are a lot of
students with off-campus privileges. Plus, there’s always the
faculty and staff to consider,” she whispers leaning closer.
“Keegan’s worried the staff is going to bear the blame if this is
traced back to the school.”

“You mean as scapegoats?” I ask
cautiously.

“Think about it.” She shrugs and pushes her
glass aside. “If a student did this, someone from money, you don’t
think innocence could be bought? No disrespect to your Uncle, but I
have no doubt the New York coven would much rather place blame on a
mixed-blood than one of their own golden children given the
opportunity. Any of the covens would.”

She’s not wrong there.

“What do you think happened to the boy? To
Damian?”

“Isn’t it obvious? Damian is dead.” Even as I
say the words, I know they’re true. There will be two more grieving
parents gathering at the Angel of Hope for the candle lighting
ceremony next December. This realization weighs heavily on me as I
mourn silently for a young life snuffed out too soon. “I saved his
life once,” I continue, wanting to get this burden off my
chest.

“What? When?” She’s confused. Of course she
is. This is no small thing, and she can’t believe I haven’t
mentioned it sooner.

“Remember when we went Christmas shopping?”
She nods but doesn’t say a word. She’s probably afraid I’ll change
my mind and won’t finish the story. “You were in the book store,
Amy’s, when it happened. I was sitting on the bench, and he came
running by. He was so full of life, laughing and carrying on.
Anyway, he slipped on the ice and fell in front of oncoming
traffic. I pulled him out of the street. It was no big deal, so I
didn’t mention it before.” I know I’m downplaying the intensity of
the whole thing, but I don’t want her to get weirded out.

“Oh, wow. I’m so sorry. That must make this
whole thing even more difficult for you.” She chews on her bottom
lip, unsure of what to say next.

“It’s upsetting either way,” I tell her. “I
don’t know. Maybe we’re rushing to judgment. Maybe the body in the
woods was attacked by a bear, and who knows where Damian is? It’s
terrible to say, but bad things happen all the time. Not all of
them at the hands of vampires.”

“There’s only one way we’re going to know for
sure,” she agrees quietly.

We both know the only way to get conclusive
evidence, and it’s something neither of us wants to voice: more
bodies.

The
following week brings further bad news. Two more mangled bodies
have been found in Rutland, this time closer to town. It’s getting
increasingly difficult for the faculty to maintain order. Rumors
fly that the Linkuri will be coming from the New York coven, as
they’re closest and will have jurisdiction here. Others still say
the school will be closed early for the summer and that we’ll all
be sent home.

According to the newspaper, the Rutland P.D.
is treating Damian’s disappearance as a separate case from the
others, since they still have no body and no leads. The optimism
surrounding his safe return diminishes every day. The task force
assigned to the known deaths still isn’t sure if they’re dealing
with a serial killer or bear attacks, but they’re calling for
reinforcements. They need more experienced investigators and a real
forensics team to wade through the evidence. Pratt assures the
student body that there’s still no convincing evidence that the
deaths are in any way related to Crossroads.

I’m sitting in Lynch’s class mulling all of
this over and listening to my classmates debating the social norms
of vampires when there’s a knock on the door. Pratt’s secretary
lets herself in without waiting for an invitation. From where I sit
in the front row, I can see that she’s not alone. There’s a
guardian waiting in the hall. Why would she be accompanied by one
of the Pazitor?

“Headmaster Pratt would like to speak with
one of your students,” she announces. I’m really starting to hate
this class. I brace myself, waiting for her to call my name, as she
scans the list on her notepad.

“Blaine Westbrook.”

I’m awash in relief. I was so sure it was
going to be me, not that I have any interest in another one-on-one
meeting with Pratt.

“What’s this about?” Blaine asks unmoving. As
usual, his respect for authority is less than impressive. He wants
her to know he’s not budging unless it’s on his own terms.

“Headmaster Pratt will explain it to you when
we get to his office. Please get your things and follow me.”

Blaine still doesn’t move.

The guardian enters the room and barks a
single word at Blaine: “Now.” He’s not screwing around. His tone is
enough to stir Blaine to action.

“Move along then, Blaine,” chimes in Lynch.
He probably wants to get this scene over with quickly. Whatever
Blaine’s being called away for, it looks bad. Lynch knows the class
is going to be distracted and the debate on social norms has come
to an end.

I catch Nik’s eye. He looks worried. So does
Blaine. I wonder what he’s done to warrant the trip to Pratt’s
office and the presence of the Pazitor. I don’t know what to make
of it all, so I go see Anya as soon as we’re dismissed. I know she
won’t be happy that I’m ditching class, but I don’t think I can
wait until the end of the day to talk to her.

**********

Anya’s on the phone again. She has her back
to the door and doesn’t see me peek in through the opening. I
decide to wait in the hall to give her some privacy, but it doesn’t
prevent me from overhearing her call. Truth be told, I’m listening
hard this time trying to make out as much of the conversation as
possible.