"You know," the professor replied, opening a glass cabinet.
She pulled out a set of carved crystal martini glasses with a faint blue hue. Rather pretty, although a little too old-fashioned and girly for Cat's taste.
"What's your poison?"
Cat shrugged. "Anything, really."
"Come on, give me a challenge. I used to bartend for fun back in the day."
Now that was a surprise.
Every old vampire went through phases where their vocation felt tiresome, mundane. However much one might enjoy a task, doing it over and over for eternity sucked the passion out of it.
But a bartender? Cat wondered how many children of the seven ever did something so simple. She knew the Stormhales would never allow her to work in a bar.
But she and Anika were in very different positions. Cat was one of the youngest in her generation. Only five Stormhales were under a century old. Worse yet, she was the least powerful of those five. Anika was hundreds of years old and a master in combat. No one could tell her what to do.
Cat couldn't help a pang of envy.
"Surprise me."
"Ha! I knew I liked you. Take a seat."
She climbed on a barstool and watched Anika mix a drink with flair to show off her skills. Cat grinned as she watched the bottles fly, twist, and turn in the air and around Anika’s hands.
"So, you were saying? About your family."
Cat bit her lip.
"Do you believe in coincidences?" she asked the professor.
"Another word for fate. Or schemes, depending on the situation."
She nodded. "Precisely. Well, how likely is it that half a dozen students start in the second semester, on the very same day and at the exact moment when the last Eirikrson enters the school?"
"A chance in a million," said Anika. "We discussed that in conclave the day before your arrival. Levi shut down the question. In hindsight, I'd say he was protecting Chloe."
She nodded. "Of course. But that doesn't change the fact that something—someone—sent us all here. The air witch," she said, pausing to recall her name. "Gwen. The fox. Maybe even the huntsman."
Cat wished she'd attended orientation with them, but she had arrived too late.
"And me," she added. "I think that our arrival had something to do with Chloe."
"More than likely. For good or ill."
Cat remained silent. But really, who would believe that whatever scheme her family was concocting could be conceived as good?
"What makes you think that the Stormhales are against Oldcrest?"
Cat pulled the letter out of her pocket and handed it to Anika. In exchange, Anika gave her a drink that smelled fruity and delicious. Cat detected raspberry, pineapple, maybe peach. Definitely vodka. Something else too.
She brought it to her lips and moaned in delight. What was that?
She wanted to ask, but instead she concentrated on the point at hand. Her mind often betrayed her, distracted by random irrelevant details. This was too important to let her mind wander.
"Drusilla tells me to return home before summer. That's very specific. And I was supposed to go back regardless. This feels like…a warning. Like they know something is about to happen. I want to warn the others, I think. I could be exaggerating. Maybe there's a party I'm supposed to attend. But something feels off. What do you think?"
Cat had gone to Anika for advice because the woman was as smart as she was powerful. Plus, she was a lot more than just a professor. As an ancient Beaufort, she had as many slayers and spies as Levi in her service. She must at least suspect something, or know for sure that her family wasn't involved.
"I think," Anika said carefully, "that you're much smarter than your aunt gives you credit for. Unfortunate, really. I liked you."
Cat froze an instant before her vision started to blur.
She looked down at her drink and gasped.
So very sweet. So very fruity. Just enough to mask a faint scent she hadn't recognized.
Bane
A coppery hint, with a touch of fermented flesh, like rotten blood. Nightbane. The one poison that could affect their kind.
If the poison hadn’t been mixed with anything, Cat would have recognized it a mile away, but mingled with so many scents and served by someone she trusted? She had suspected nothing.
Cat tumbled to her feet, falling forward on her knees. Head down, she did her best to cough it up, in vain.
"Oh, chill, sweetheart," Anika said casually.
She lifted her head, and from the corner of her blurring vision, saw the professor smiling down at her, tilting her head.
"Your blood isn't mine to spill. That was just a drop to keep you nice and quiet while I send a little note to Drusilla."
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
How stupid was she? She knew there was an enemy, someone informing the queen, or whoever was against them. Why hadn't she stopped to think that it could be Anika? Because she'd known her before the Institute. Because she was old, wise, and had the right name. Because she had turned soft and trustful.
What an idiot.
Anika was writing a letter on her breakfast table to Cat's aunt. And if that letter reached Drusilla, she was as good as dead. The Stormhale clan didn’t allow for many mistakes in general, but there was one price for treason. Death. A painful, public execution, so gruesome it would be spoken of for the next hundred years.
Time. She had to play for time.
One drop of nightbane would run its course, leave her system, and she could fight back. Stop the letter. Stop Anika. Warn…who? Who did she trust?
To her surprise, even in light of this betrayal, names flooded the edge of her confused mind.
Chloe. Levi. Greer. Even Billevern would help now.
"Sebastian," she whispered.
That this particular name would come to mind, let alone escape her lips, confused her. She didn't even know him, so why would she trust him with something so very important—her life? But her instincts were clear.
She had to get to one of them, any of them.
"It's not your fault, you know. Your aunt is a power-hungry bitch. A smart woman would have brought you up to speed, given you a clear mission. Sending you here without a word and expecting you to just comply? That wasn't fair. Still, I can't let you get in the way."
"Why?" Cat croaked, her throat hurting.
She didn't think it had ever been quite so dry. Cat hadn't felt sick once since being turned. But now, her stomach was convulsing, churning, burning.
"Why? Because bitch or not, Drusilla has a fucking point. We don't want the Eirikrsons to return. Especially not one who's decades away from spreading her legs and spouting out little De Villiers. They're going to take what is rightfully ours. Power."
Her head was spinning. Cat wanted to drop to the ground and just rest. But if she did that, she'd be gone.
She had to keep Anika talking. Time was her best defense now.
"Do you think…Drusilla," she managed to mumble, "will share power?"
Anika shrugged. "It's a big world. I'm fine just keeping a country or two."
She couldn't believe her ears. This was Anika. Anika, who wasn't with her pompous family in France because she preferred teaching students over sitting in a palace.
Catherine started to understand her mistake. Anika wasn't here because she wanted to be a professor.
She was here because she wanted to live on Night Hill. The only seat of power truly recognized by all.
Anika disgusted Cat. Truly, to the bottom of her heart. Cat clung on to that feeling—the pure rage, fury, revulsion—and let it fuel her. Keep her awake.
She managed to get to her knees.
"Drusilla will…use you. And spit you out."
Cat started to feel better. The tremor was stopping. The pain around her abdomen receded.
"Drusilla is bound by her oath as well as any of us. She promised me France, Germany, and Spain, and I shall have them."
"What about the queen, then?" Cat pushed, hoping for answers.
If she lived through today, she needed to know as much as possible.
Anika snorted. "That upstart is an idiot. Ambitious, I'll give you that. But an idiot nonetheless. She doesn't have enough support to achieve her goal. And while Chloe and Tom breathe, she can't even use her one real source of power."
The professor knew a lot more than she, a lot more than all of them. She needed to keep her talking without realizing that Cat was interrogating her.
Cat decided to do what she did best, a strategy that generally worked with ancient vampires, who often underestimated youth. She played dumb.
"You mean Chloe is stopping the queen? That doesn't make any sense."
But it did. She perfectly understood what Anika had hinted at.
The so-called queen was drawing power from the Eirikrsons, power that she'd managed to steal from them while no one could access it. Now that the true heirs were back, she was cut off from it.
Which could only mean one thing. The queen had been turned by an Eirikrson.
"The two petulant children may not use Skyhall, but you know what's buried inside. The same thing festers under your house, here on the hill."
Cat nodded.
When all seven founder lines turned against Eirikr, they used dark magic to seal him in his tomb on Cosnoc, the forbidden hill. Magic that had cost a lot more than a few coins tossed at a parlor-trick witch.
Blood.
The strength of the seven families’ blood kept Eirikr imprisoned. The spell had not faded through the ages because the blood anchoring it still lay under the tomb.
The beating hearts of the seven strongest among their kind.
The purpose of the sacrifice had been to seal Eirikr, but soon, the seven noticed that their strength increased while in their house.
As did their cruelty. Their rage. Their darkness.
Every family soon moved away. Save for Levi, Anika, and Alexius.
Cat used to believe that was because they were strong enough to withstand the pull of the evil presence. Now she wasn't so sure.
Something tapped at the window, and Anika let in a large eagle.