I swooped out the door. The morning was clear, and the snow melting fast. Only scattered patches remained, whitish gray in the center of the quad.

Jogging down the path, I felt unburdened, empowered. It was like I knew a secret. I’d braved this path in the darkness. I’d seen one of its monsters.

I bounded up the steps to the dining hall and pulled open the heavy oak door, anticipating the delicious blast of heat. I stepped inside, and the low hum of chatter enveloped me. I smelled fried foods and coffee.

And then I gasped. All thoughts of Lilac, last night, and that envelope were replaced by one much more pressing development.

There were boys here.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“There are boys here?” Plopping down next to Amanda, I set my tray on the table a little too hard, and black coffee sloshed over the lip of my mug.

“As you see.” She smiled coyly, concentrating on stirring her yogurt. Proctors dined with their Acari, and I was determined to get as much information out of mine as I could.

Unfortunately, the arrangement meant I also had to sit near Lilac. The heart-faced girl was there, too, staring into a bowl of oatmeal, as was a posse of girls I wouldn’t want to meet in a dark alley.

Amanda eyed the boys’ table, taking a spoonful of yogurt. “I was just explaining to the other girls. They’re Trainees.”

“I thought only girls could be Watchers.”

“Not Watchers. Vamps in training, like.”

“In training?” I stole another look. I’d thought the girls were attractive, but right there, at the far table, scarfing down plates of scrambled eggs and sausage, was like a retreat for wayward soccer stars. Some of them looked a little dim, posturing like jocks before the big game, but I knew not to underestimate anybody who managed to end up here.

If all vampires had to do was find a guy, train him, and boom, instant undead, just how many were there? The possibilities were chilling. “I thought vampires were ancient. But they can just . . . make new ones?”

“Many are ancient. But otherwise, yeah, they’re creating new vampires all the time. It takes years, though, and few Trainees survive.” She took another bite. Her tone of voice was casual, like she was talking about training a new batch of Wal-Mart employees. “And you dollies best learn the ground rules. You’ll have some classes with the boys. You can sit together for meals. But there’s no seeing each other after curfew.”

“Where do they sleep?” the heart-faced girl asked. The sound of her voice startled me. With her quiet manner, wide eyes, and faint dusting of pale brown freckles across the bridge of her nose, she seemed unassuming—wholesome, even. I wondered what her deal was.

“The boys stay in the castle on the hill.” Amanda scraped the last of her yogurt from the bottom. “Which, by the way, is strictly off-limits for you dollies.”

That was fine with me—that place had given me the creeps. But sharing classes and meals? I looked from the boys’ table back to the girls around me. Already everyone was puffing and preening like a bunch of peacocks during mating season.

Teen hormones plus a few hot guys equals Barbie bloodbath.

In other words, high school. All over again.

I stabbed a bit of egg with my fork. My food had gone cold while we were talking. I’d lost my appetite, anyway.

“So, we can eat with the guys?” Lilac clutched the edge of the table, looking eager to spring up then and there to join them at breakfast.

“Aye, luvvie, you can.”

Lilac pushed from the table, her chair scraping against the timber-plank floor.

Biting back a smile, Amanda glanced across the room. The boys looked as interested in us as we’d been in them. “Seems like you’d be welcome.”

Lilac was already sauntering over to meet them. Not to be left behind, a handful of Acari were hot on her heels. The heart-faced girl watched from the end of the table, and I watched her staring silently, weighing everyone. I’d figure out a way to pry about her, too. But it was Lilac who was at the top of my list.

The exodus had left Amanda and me basically alone. I dove in at once. “Where did Ronan find that girl?”

“Von Straubing?”

I nodded.

Amanda opened her mouth, hesitated, shut it, and then opened it again. “Jail. Fort Lauderdale. Ran away from some . . . special school in Connecticut and got nabbed for public indecency.”

I wondered what special school might be code for. The way she’d said it implied anything from the wealthiest of boarding schools to juvie.

She turned to me with a smile. “But that’s more than I should’ve told you.” She added under her breath, “I heard her last night, by the way. Howling to wake the dead.”

I kept my face unreadable, but inside I cheered. “Yeah, turns out when I came in from my run, I accidentally tracked in a lot of snow.”

“Oh, dear.” Sipping her tea, Amanda suppressed a smile. “I don’t suppose it ended up in her bed?”

I nodded. I’d kept the door open when I got home, just in case. I had to make sure the whole floor would hear Lilac’s shrieking. I didn’t understand the inner workings of mean girls, but it seemed she had a posse already.

“You’re bang on for now, Acari Drew. Nicely done.” She pushed back her chair, ready to leave.

“Wait. Can I ask a question?”

“Yeah . . . ?” She scooted back in, leaning her elbows on the table. “I’m surprised you haven’t asked more.”

I looked at the boys’ table. They were all good-looking, occupying that long-limbed nether land between boy and man. Would their bodies change? Would they grow long fangs and get pale? “You know all the myths about vampires? Are they true?” My head swam with them. Sleeping during the day. Coffins and stakes. Absent reflections in mirrors. Aversions to garlic, wolfsbane, crosses. I remembered the headmaster—he’d given his speech in daylight. “Like, I thought they could be out only at night.”

“You said it yourself. Myths.” She shrugged. “Look, dolly, much of it is nonsense that’s mushroomed through the years. Celebrity gossip, like. They don’t sleep in coffins. Don’t sleep at all, in fact.” She paused for a moment, considering. “Though they do like to laze a bit after feeding.” She saw my question forming and answered it. “Yes, they drink blood. As we drink theirs.”

“Is that what we had on the plane?” I shuddered.

“It makes you stronger.” Her tone was flat, like she wouldn’t tolerate any teenage hand-wringing on the topic. “If you want to survive, you’ll drink and not question.”

I tried to work it all out in my head. I thought back to the plane—the stuff had made me feel stronger, braver, more alive.

Sighing, she pushed her plate away and stretched back in her chair. “But, as with gossip, some of it bears a bit of truth, or near to it. Like, they can’t see well in bright light.” She looked to a bank of windows along the far wall and to the slate gray day beyond. “It’s why we live on this sodding isle,” she grumbled. “You’ll see. We’ve got two times of day: dim and dark.”

“Are they immortal? Can they”—I lowered my voice to a whisper—“can they be killed?”

“A stake through the heart does ’em in—that bit’s true enough.” She took another sip of tea, scowling at how it’d gone cold. “But otherwise, yeah, they live on and on. Don’t know about you, but that’s the bit that’d drive me batty.”

“When will I see other vampires?” I thought of the monster in the moonlight. He’d seemed otherworldly, and I could believe he was a creature immune to death. Were they all like that? It was hard to imagine the boys at the far table ever transforming into such still and ethereal beings. “How will I know someone’s Vampire? Can you just . . . tell?”

“Oho.” She chuckled. “You can bloody well tell. And you’ll see other vamps soon enough.” She looked to the front door and gave a nod. “But the interrogation’s over. It’s time for your first day of school.”

I followed her line of sight, and my chest tightened. Ronan. He strode toward us, looking classically handsome. His black hair was combed back and looked slightly damp, like he’d just gotten out of the shower. He’d shaved, revealing the cleft in that strong chin. Jerk.

My eyes went to the boys’ table and back again. The vampire Trainees all of a sudden seemed like a bunch of kids. Cute, sure, but just boys. While Ronan was a man.

And to him, I probably seemed as young and awkward as that table full of teenage boys. Young, awkward, and apparently gullible. I cringed.

He stopped to say a few words to each Proctor he passed. His manner was easy and confident. He wore jeans and a forest green sweater that was snug on his chest and arms. In just his T-shirt, I hadn’t realized he had such broad shoulders. My cheeks flamed hot. That green would do killer things to the color of his eyes.

He turned to walk toward us. I reminded myself that he and Amanda were close. That it’d be her he was coming to see.

Most important, I had to remember the only reason I was here was because he’d tricked me. How could I ever trust someone who had the power to persuade me with just the touch of his hand?

I looked nervously at my breakfast. I wasn’t finished, but there was no way I could swallow anything now. I pushed the tray away.

“You must drink.” Amanda shoved the tray back in front of me. I stared at that thick, dark liquid. The thought of it should’ve turned my stomach, but, oddly, it didn’t.

With a silent nod, I tossed the whole glass down in a few gulps. For some reason, I didn’t want Ronan to watch me drink it.

Turning my back to him, I wiped my mouth, watching the breakfast crowd disperse. Many Acari had taken their course schedules from their envelopes. Proctors milled around, talking to them, pointing, explaining, directing.

I still hadn’t opened my envelope yet. I’d planned to, over breakfast, but I’d shoved it in my pocket and hadn’t thought about it again since seeing all those boys in the dining hall.