Drake Chronicles: 03 Out for Blood (26 page)

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I have proof. Students are getting sick al over. Chloe’s own mother was giving her steroids. Have you heard about some operation cal ed the Trojan Horse?” I was so relieved at his honest bewilderment that I could have wept.

“What are you going on about?” he demanded. “Hunter, leave League business alone. Leave it to the adults.”

“I can’t.”

“And stop seeing that … thing.”

“I can’t do that either.”

“Your mother would be ashamed.”

“I’m ashamed too.”

“As you should be.”

“Of your bigotry, Grandpa,” I finished quietly. “You know I love you, but I’m not you.

You can’t force me to be. I agree with the treaties. I
like
what Hart’s doing with the League.”

“You’re young.”

“So? That doesn’t make me stupid. You didn’t raise me to be stupid. You raised me to be strong and independent and clever. Can’t you trust that?”

“I don’t even know you anymore, girl. How can I trust someone who wil ingly fraternizes with monsters?”

I took his big cal ous hand in mine. “It’s not that simple. But it’s stil me. I’m stil
me
.”

“I love you, girl,” he said gruffly. “You know I do. Now stop this nonsense. We have class.”

He’d raised me. He was the only family I had left. And he looked at me as if he couldn’t stand the sight of me. The only reason I didn’t let the tears fal was because it would have convinced him right then and there that I was no longer his granddaughter. I tilted my chin, straightened my shoulders.

And I let him lead me toward the gym where the Niners waited for a demonstration from one of the League’s most celebrated hunters.

Kieran was waiting for us outside the main gym. His hair was caught back in a ponytail, his cargos were perfectly regulation. He stil wore his cast. Grandpa clapped him on his good shoulder.

“Glad you’re here, Black. Maybe you can talk some sense into my granddaughter.”

I waited stone-faced. Kieran looked wary.

“What do you mean, Caleb?”

“She’s dating a vampire!” he exploded.

Kieran winced. “Oh.”

Grandpa’s eyes narrowed to slits. “You knew about this?”

“Uh … yes, sir.”

I sighed. “Grandpa, leave him alone.”

“He’s supposed to look out for you.”

“I do!” Kieran sounded offended. “You should be proud of her. Hart requested her presence personal y at the Drake coronation.”

I closed my eyes briefly. We were doomed.

“You went to a vampire ceremony?” Grandpa asked evenly.

“He didn’t know?” Kieran asked.

“No, he didn’t.”

“Sorry.”

Grandpa vibrated with rage. “I wil not tolerate this kind of behavior in my family!”

“It’s different now,” Kieran tried to assuage him. “I’m dating Solange Drake.

They’re a good family.”

Grandpa went red, then purple. Kieran took a step back. I whacked Grandpa between the shoulder blades.

“Grandpa, breathe!”

His breath was strangled but at least he didn’t keel over. Before he could shout the rafters down, the door swung open and York eyed us al with the barest politeness. Grandpa glared at him.

“What?” he barked.

“We’re waiting for your demonstration,” York barked back.

Grandpa jerked his thumb at Kieran, ordering him inside. I winced sympathetical y.

Helping Grandpa with fight scenarios when he was in a temper never ended wel . I fol owed, because skipping it would have started another lecture on family responsibility. The Niners looked eager and nervous, chattering among themselves. Lia waved at me.

Grandpa threw a ninja egg at a short boy with glasses before York even blew his whistle.

A pepper cloud had everyone in the immediate vicinity coughing and sneezing.

“First lesson,” Grandpa growled. “Be aware of your surroundings.” The boy’s face was bright red as he wiped his streaming eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. Everyone else stood at immediate attention, silently cowed. York looked reluctantly impressed.

“This is Caleb Wild,” he introduced belatedly. “Mr. Wild has been a hunter for decades. This is his assistant Kieran Black, nephew of Hart Black.” Excited glances were exchanged when Kieran’s last name was recognized, but the only sound was the pepper victim choking on a cough. Grandpa cut an impressive figure, pacing in front of the cadets, his white hair cut short, his muscled arms scarred. His boots clomped, ringing like an iron bel . Students trembled.

“You’ve al been given a sacred duty to protect the world against vampires. And every single one of you is capable of winning that fight. You!” The girl next to Lia staggered back a step.

“Yes, sir?”

“What’s your skil ?”

“I … can throw.”

“Good. You!”

“Um …”

“Figure it out. You!”

“I’m fast.”

The students were stil terrified, but they started to stand with more pride in themselves as hunters. Grandpa was good at that.

“It doesn’t matter how smal you are,” he continued. “Or whether you’re a boy or a girl, or what your last name is. What matters is the League and the amount of fight in you. Even if you’re wounded, you can stil make a difference. To demonstrate this, Kieran and I are going to spar.”

“And I’m going to die,” Kieran muttered so only I could hear.

Students broke from their stiff rows and circled the mat in the center of the room.

The mirrors surrounding the wal s showed their eager faces; the windows showed nothing but shadows.

“The first point I’l make is that if you’re wounded, you stay out of the fight. You run the hel away if you can, so you don’t endanger the mission or your team. If you can’t run away, you damn wel win. Understand me?”

“Yes, sir!” The chorus reverberated with enthusiasm.

“And you fol ow orders, hear me?”

I knew that was for me.

“Yes, sir!”

I didn’t say anything. I had no intention of obeying.

“How would you fight me?” he demanded of Kieran.

Kieran already had a stake in his hand.

“Good. But you missed and I have you by the throat. Now what?” Kieran gurgled since now Grandpa real y did have him by the throat. “Another stake.”

“And?”

Kieran swept out with his foot, hitting Grandpa’s ankles. Grandpa staggered, stumbled. I hissed out a breath when he nearly fel over. Kieran didn’t react and I didn’t move. If we betrayed a single ounce of concern, Grandpa’s pride would be wounded. In fact, he was grinning for the first time that night.

“That’s my boy.”

Kieran turned his back, glancing at the students. “And then I run,” he said, to il ustrate the earlier point.

Grandpa leaped to his feet. The floor shook. He grabbed Kieran’s ponytail, jerking him to a stop. In his other hand, he held one of the daggers from his belt. I didn’t have time to say a word, only to squeak.

The blade cut through Kieran’s ponytail.

His hair drifted to the floor and he whirled, bug-eyed with shock. Everyone else gasped. Grandpa looked smug.

“If you have a weakness like a broken arm, you rid yourself of al other weaknesses,” he said, sliding his knife back into his scabbard. “If you don’t learn anything else, learn this. Weakness is not al owed.” His faded eyes pinned me where I stood.

•

Grandpa left without saying another word to me. Kieran paused only long enough to squeeze my arm.

“I’l talk to him,” he promised severely, holding his ponytail in his fist.

I nodded mutely and stalked back to the dorm, boiling with anger and hurt and guilt.

Chloe was sitting cross-legged in the middle of her bed. She looked up when I stormed in.

“Let’s figure out this TH thing,” I said before she could ask me about my mood. I just didn’t want to talk about it. I wouldn’t know where to start. “So we know someone’s sel ing the stuff at school and we know it’s a recognized Helios-Ra drug. Wel , sort of recognized,” I amended. “It must be secret or it wouldn’t have been hidden so deeply in the files, right?”

“Definitely. We could get your number-one fan Lia to try to score some. See if we flush out the dealer?”

I wrinkled my nose. “I guess. But I’d rather not endanger her like that. And anyway, I’m thinking since the dealer’s a student he or she is just a smal fish in a big pond.”

“Probably.”

“Okay, so then let’s make a list of the students who have gotten sick. There was that first guy—I don’t know his name.”

“And then Wil . Or was that just a
Hel-Blar
thing?”

“He mentioned he was taking vitamins, so let’s add him to the list. Speaking of vitamins, have you talked to your mom yet?”

She grimaced. “No. She’s been at the lab and I know she won’t talk to me until she’s at home. Jeanine after Wil ,” she added. I added her to the list.

“Spencer,” I said quietly. “Though I don’t actual y think he’s part of it.”

“Me neither. Jonas and James. Those ninth-grade twins, the real y short ones?”

“Right. And then Savannah.”

“She was short too.”

“What, so the drug is for short people?”

She rol ed her eyes. “I guess not.”

I paused, frowning. “Actual y …”

She blinked. “What do you mean, actual y? You think the school’s taking out short people? That’s just weird.”

“No, listen. What do they al have in common?”

“They’re mostly Niners? And short.”

“Wil was in eleventh grade and tal ,” I argued. “But gentle.” I raised my eyebrows.

“Al these students would have been considered weaker. Short, skinny, not into fighting.” I leaned forward while details fel into place. “And who picks on those kinds of people on a regular basis?”

“Bul ies?” Chloe’s mouth dropped open. “York.” She slapped her bedspread. “That must be why my mom’s been feeding me steroids al summer. I would have been one of the weak ones without it! I found the info buried in her files just before you got here. She knew about it. She reads al the lab notes, but she didn’t want to pul a society-wide alarm before proper tests were conducted. You know how she is about research. Damn it, Mom.”

“So York’s been making sure the weaker students get the TH?”

“Looks like.”

I met her shocked eyes grimly. “So how do we take him down?” Chapter 27

•

Quinn

Later Tuesday night

I got a text just before dawn. Marcus final y had results from the blood samples Hunter had given me.

He also had Solange sitting on a bench, looking shel -shocked.

Her eyes were red but it was the kind of red you get from too much crying. When I burst through the door of the barn Uncle Geoffrey used for his scientific experiments, she looked away, lower lip wobbling.

Solange’s lower lip never wobbled.

Marcus looked like he was about to start running. Crying girls made him nervous, even when it was his little sister. Or maybe especial y when it was his little sister.

“Hey, Sol,” I said quietly, crouching down in front of her. There were acres of Bunsen burners and glass beakers on the counter behind her. Light sparkled on scrupulously clean equipment that looked like it belonged in a science-fiction movie.

If Uncle Geoffrey ever wanted a gig as a mad scientist, he was wel on his way.

“Quinn, go away,” she said miserably, picking at the dried clay on her pants. She’d probably made a hundred pots on her pottery wheel in the short couple of weeks since she’d turned.

“Not a chance,” I said gently. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing. I just came to talk to Uncle Geoffrey.”

“Okay, so what’s the problem?”

She shrugged, keeping her head down and refusing to look at me. I glanced at Marcus. He shrugged too, then patted her shoulder.

“Solange, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he said. I got the impression he’d said that a few hundred times in the last hour. “It’s biological. Like acne.” She made a weird sound in the back of her throat. I closed my eyes briefly.

“Nice,” I said. “Tel a sixteen-year-old girl everything’s fine because it’s like pimples. And by the way? What the hel ’s going on?” I stared at her. “Where’s Uncle Geoffrey?”

“He’s gone to talk to Mom and Dad.”

“Why? Are you sick?” Dread was heavy and metal ic in my stomach, like iron.

“Yes!” she exclaimed at the same time Marcus muttered, “No.” Solange pursed her lips. “It’s …” She final y huffed a sigh and then squared her shoulders. She tilted her chin up. “It’s this.” She lifted her lips off her teeth. Her fangs were out.

Al six of them.

I blinked and counted again. Her regular canine teeth fangs were out, with two more on either side. The second pair were like the original and the third were very smal , barely noticeable. Her gums were inflamed and raw.

Drakes didn’t grow more than one set of fangs. It was a mark of our ancient blood, of our more civilized form of vampirism. There was some snobbery in the courts—the more fangs you had, the more feral you were. Isabeau had two sets and she flashed them proudly, but she was unique, even among vampires. The
Hel-Blar
had nothing
but
fangs. No wonder Solange was freaked out.

She thought she was turning into a monster.

She swal owed hard, trying not to cry. Marcus patted her shoulder harder.

“Don’t cry.” He was begging.

“What did Uncle Geoffrey say?” I asked softly.

“That I was special,” she snorted, a flash of her regular self. “Special,” she repeated. “God.”

“Ouch.” I winced sympathetical y.

She hugged herself, as if she were cold. “Quinn, what if this means I’m not finished with the bloodchange? What … what if I turn into a
Hel-Blar
or something?”

I stood up, glowering. “You are
not
turning into a
Hel-Blar
.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do too. For one thing, you’re not blue. And you don’t smel like moldy dirt.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

“Uncle Geoffrey said you’d be fine,” Marcus reminded her.

“He said he
thought
I’d be fine. He also said he’s never heard of this happening in our family. In any of the old families.”