Morning classes went pretty well, and I spent my breaks hanging at the coffee bar at the University centre, where Eve barista'd her way through the day. Eve was good at it calm, efficient, seemingly impervious to the prissy demands and bitchiness of a lot of students.
I had figured out the rude ones are mostly protected, so it was a class thing; Eve had elected not to sign up with a vampire for protection, and those who had looked down on her.
Or else they were just bitchy. Which was equally possible. People didn't have to have a vampire connection to be arrogant jerks.
Eve was working today with another girl, somebody I didn't know; she had long, straight brown hair that shimmered like a curtain when she moved. She wore it loose around her shoulders, which I guess was okay because she wasn't working directly with the drinks or anything, just taking orders in cash. The nametag said Amy, and she looked cheerful and sweet. She and Eve were talking like friends, which was good; Eve needed that. I killed time between courses by skimming through my English lit and reading a book I checked out from the library on advanced string theory. I like the whole idea of vibrating strings being the basis of everything, but there are all kinds of services that vibrated. It made the world more exciting. Always in motion,
My watch beeped to let me know I was going to be late for class if I didn't hurry, so I packed up waved to Amy and Eve and jogged out of the UC and into the warm afternoon sunshine.
As I was blinking in the glare, I ran into monica. Literally, as Monica was coming up the steps that I was going down. I automatically reached out to steady the other girl when she waivered, and then thought, what am I doing? Because Monica had once laughed as I tumbled down the stairs and cracked my head halfway open.
"Hey, watch it, bitch!" Monica snapped, and then did a double take. "Ana? Oh, hi. Cute shirt!"
I look down at myself, mystified. It wasn't. I didn't really own any clothes I classified as cute, and even the best of them would never match Monica's standards which were much higher.
"You on your way to class?" Monica continued too brightly. "Too bad, I'd buy you a Mocha or something"
"I uh, yeah...I've got class" I edged around and tried to descend the steps, then Monica got in my way. Monica's smile was friendly, but it didn't really warm up her big, pretty eyes. "I'll be late"
"One thing" Monica said, and lowered her voice. It occurred to me that this was almost the first time I'd seen Monica alone, not flanked by Gina and Jennifer, not trailing an entourage of the popular. "I'm having a party on Friday night. Can you come? It's at my parents house. Here's the address" before I could react, Monica pressed a slip of paper into my hand. "Keep it quiet, all right? I'm asking only the best people. Oh, and wear something nice; it's formal"
And then Monica was gone, breezing by me up the steps, where she fell in with a group of girls and went into the UC's glass atrium, chatting and laughing.
The best people? I eyed the slip of paper, thought about throwing it away, and then shoved it into my pocket.
Maybe this was a golden opportunity to convince Monica that I wasn't ever going to be anything like a friend.
I headed out for class, moving quickly, but keeping my eyes peeled. When I spotted the guys I was looking for, I veered off the sidewalk and onto the grass.
Gamers, nerds, they sat around outside most the afternoon moving counters around on complicated looking boards and rolling dice. I've seen them every day for weeks and in all that time I've never seen any kind of girl with them, or even approach them. In fact, when I cleared my throat they stared at me as if they thought I was an alien.
"Hi" I said, and thrust out the slip of paper. "My names Monica. I'm having a party on Friday night. If you guys want to come. Tell your friends"
One of them reached out and gingerly took the slip of paper. Another snatched it away from him, read it, and said, "wow, really?"
"Really" I smiled.
"Mind if we invite some other people?"
"Knock yourself out" I said.
I headed off to class.
"Anastasia Ian?"
Last class of the day, and I, startled, looked up from writing the date in my notebook. The professor didn't usually take roll. In fact, he seemed pretty much in different to who showed up, which was sometimes next to nobody. Like today, I was about one of 12 people. Showing up was really kind of useless in this particular course, since Professor what is his name lectured from PowerPoint slides, bullet by bullet, and then made them available on his website right after the lecture. No wonder most people skipped.
I raise my hand, wondering what was going on. I had a guilty flash of handing over the party invitation to the nerd squad, but no, how could they find out so soon? And besides, who would care, besides Monica?
The professor, grey, wrinkled, tired, and unenthusiastic stared at me for a second without recognition, then said, "You're wanted in administration, room three seventeen. Go now"
"But-" I started to ask what was going on, but he'd already dismissed me and turned back to his PowerPoint, droning on in monotone. I stuff the books into my bag, wondered again what was going on, and left without much regret.
I've been in the administration building exactly 3 times, once to register, once to file the official paperwork to move off campus, once to do add and drop. It looked just like any administration building at any school, grubby and disgusting, with tired, crabby employees and desks piled high with file folders. I avoided the first floor registrars office and went up the steps. Second floor is quieter, but still full of people talking, keys clicking on computers, printers running.
The third floor was with whisper quiet. I started down the hallway, and the silence sank deeper. I couldn't even hear sounds from outside the windows, although I could clearly see people out there walking and talking, and cars tooling around the street below. Room 317 was at the end of the hall. All of the glossy wooden doors are firmly closed.
I knocked on 317, and thought I heard someone say come in, so I turned the knob and stepped inside, into darkness. Complete, velvety darkness that disorientated me immediately. The knob slipped out of my hand on the door clicked shut, and I couldn't find it again. My hand moved over what felt like a featureless, smooth wall.
A light bloomed behind me and I turned to see the flame of a match, and a candlewick catching fire. In the glow, Amelie's face shone like perfect Ivory.
The older vampire looked exactly the same as before: cool, queenly, pale, with a white blonde hair twisted back in an elegant updo that must've required servants to achieve. She was wearing a white silk suit, and her skin was flawless. If she wore make up, I couldn't tell. Her eyes were eerie in the near dark luminous and not quite human.
"My apologies for the dramatics" Amelie said, and smiled at me. It was a very nice smile, cool and polite. My mother had always loved the Hitchcock movie rear window, and I was struck by the thought that if Grace Kelly and ended up a vampire, this was how she could have looked. "Don't bother looking for the door. It's gone until I wish it to be there again"
My heart beat sped up, and I knew Amelie could tell, so the vampire didn't comment on it; she just shook up the match and dropped it in a silver dish on the table next to the candle. My eyes adjusted gradually to the dimness. I was standing in a fairly small room, some kind of library crammed with books. Crammed was an understatement, the books were double stacked on the shelves, leaning in towers on top of the bookcases, filling the corners in untidy piles. So many books that the whole room smelt like a ancient paper. There wasn't any wall space, except where I'd come in, that wasn't blocked up by packed, groaning shelves.
"Hi" I said awkwardly. I hadn't seen Amelie since signing the protection papers and putting them, as instructed, in the mailbox outside. I'd expected some kind of visits, but...nothing. "Um...what should I call you?"
Amelie's delicate eyebrows rose, pale on pale. "I know that the concept of manners has declined, but I should think you would know at least some polite form of address that would be appropriate"
"Ma'am" I stammered. Amelie nodded.
"That will do" she lit another candle. The light strengthened, flickering but casting a warm and welcoming life. I spotted another door in the shadows, small and fitted with an antique style doorknob. There was a big skeleton key in the massive lock.
"I have called you to discuss your studies" Amelie said, and sat down in a chair on the other side of the table. There wasn't any seats on my side, so I stood there, awkwardly. I put my backpack down and folded my hands.
"Yes ma'am" I said. "Aren't my grades okay?"
Amelie dismissed it with a wave. I did not say classes, I said studies. No doubt you are finding the local college beneath your abilities. You are said to be quite exceptional"
I didn't know what to say to that, so I didn't say anything. I wish I had a chair. I wish I could say something nice and get back to class and never, see her again, because as superficially polite and kind as the old vampire was, there was something icecold about her.
"I would like you to study privately with a friend of mine" Amelie said. "For credit, of course" she looked around, smiling very slightly. "This is his library. Mine is far more orderly"
My throat felt tight and uncomfortable. "A...uh...vampire friend?"
"Is that an issue?" Amelie folded her white hands together on the table. The light flickered in her eyes.
"N-no ma'am" yes. God, I couldn't imagine what Justin was going to say.
"I believe you will find him most interesting, Anastasia. He is indeed one of the most brilliant minds I have ever encountered in my whole life, and he has learnt so much from his lifetime I could never teach at all. Still, he has much to pass along. I have been seeking the right pupil, one who can quickly grasp the discoveries he has made, and assist him in his research"
"Oh" I whispered faintly. My experience wasn't so good with the older vampires. They were cold and strange, and most of them are cruel. Like Oliver. "Who?"
Amelie looked down. Just for an instant, then she met my eyes and smiled. "You have not met" she said. "Not formally, at any rate. His name is Myrnin. He is one of my oldest friends and allies. Understand, Anistasia, your action since you came to Morganville, including your agreement with me, have won my trust. I would not grant this honour to any but those I found worthy"
"Myrnin" I repeated.
"It's an old name" Amelie agreed, in response to the question in my tone. "Old and forgot. But once he was a great scholar, known and revered. His works should not be forgot as well"
There was something strange in that, but I was too nervous to figure out what it could to be. I was working hard to swallow a lump in my throat, it was about the size of a poisoned Apple and seem to be growing larger. I could only nod.
Amelie smiled. It looked kind of artificial, like an expression she practiced in the mirror rather than learned as a child. Smiling was something her face just naturally didn't do, I decided. And sure enough, the smile was gone in seconds, without a trace.
"If you're ready.."
"Now?" I cast an involuntary, helpless look at the blank wall behind me. There wasn't a door, and that meant there was no way to retreat. So I didn't really have a choice