Jealousy

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

At lunch I scanned the cafeteria for the rest of them. Leon had been awful quiet all morning, including through forty-five minutes of Aspect Mastery, where—thank God—I wasn’t the one who had to sit in front of the class and make the fangs pop out and retreat on command while the teacher lectured about the physiological changes. My turn wasn’t until later that week, and I hated having people staring at me while the place at the back of my throat where the bloodhunger lived woke up and tinted everything with red.

It’s damn hard to sit still and just do it when you can smell the fluid in everyone’s veins. I guess maybe that was the point, but I still didn’t like it. Especially when the ampoules of blood came out and we started having to identify them according to the characteristics on the sheet. The other guys got partners. I did each one alone, and everyone stole little glances at me while I did.

It didn’t help that it was laughably easy. Female. Male. Brunette. Blond. Wulf blood. Djamphir blood. Each one had its own distinct smell, and the touch helped, too, telling me which was which. It would help us track, they told us, and help us identify nosferatu.

Sometimes they prefer a particular type of prey.

Lunchtime was always a relief. Getting the first few bites down was hard, though. I was usually so hungry that once I forced myself to start, things went okay, but those first few bites might as well’ve been sand.

“Jeez, where are they?” I went up on tiptoe as djamphir boys stepped around me, their ranks parting like waves.

Leon said nothing, just folded his arms. He was probably hungry, too.

And even though I knew he wouldn’t, I made the offer, like I did every time. “Well, go on. Go get something to eat. I’m in front of a million djamphir; nothing’s going to happen.”

“Please.” It didn’t even merit a shrug from him. “Will you stop saying that?”

Which was kind of nice of him, unless he was on Anna’s side. Whatever weird side that was. I wondered, each time I saw any of my so-called bodyguards, which one—or ones—it was. All of them? None? Just a few?

I gave an aggrieved sigh, rolled my eyes, and saw Benjamin across the lunchroom. His face was set, mouth pulled down, and Graves was right beside him. Graves actually leaned in, his mouth moving as he said something fierce and low in the djamphir’s ear.

Benjamin’s mouth twisted wryly. He made some sort of response, and if I was better at lipreading I might have been able to catch it. As it was, I only caught my name and a shrug with hands spreading. Then something about Anna.

I stiffened.

Graves caught Benjamin’s shoulder. For a moment I thought Ben was going to round on him. But no, Benjamin just looked down at Graves’s coppery fingers, then up into his face. They stared at each other for a long, tense-ticking ten seconds. Then Benjamin shook Graves off and nodded. Said something else, but Graves’s gaze had come up and latched onto mine.

I realized I was clutching my mom’s locket, warm silver metal under my fingers. My eyebrows went up, and my entire face must have been shouting, What the hell is going on?

“They won’t agree,” Leon said quietly. “It’s not in Benjamin to listen to a wulfen, even a prince like the loup-garou.”

“What are they arguing about?” I had a right to know, didn’t I?

Leon just shook his head. “Let’s get something to eat. I’m starved.”

And what could I say to that? He could give lessons in polite rudeness, just like Babbage.

I hitched my bag higher up on my shoulder. “Fine.” And stamped for the steam tables.

It should have weirded me out, but the Schola Prima was like the other one. The food appeared from behind a fog of something weird, a billowing vapor hiding shadows and suggestions of shapes. Lunch monitors took the pans to the steam tables. Everyone had a turn working during lunch.

Everyone, that is, except me. I didn’t kick too hard about that.

All the same, I would have liked to see who was cooking my food. I was missing my own kitchen more and more. Industrial food is okay, especially when they spare no expense for the linen napkins and fresh ingredients. But I wanted my mom’s cookie jar. I wanted the spatula I always used for grilled cheese.

I wanted my life back. The kitchen implements were just a symbol.

Eating with the Council had been a whole different level of uncomfortable. Mostly because I’d been watching the door, waiting for Anna to come in, and also because they kept looking at me like I was some exotic creature. Good thing I wasn’t planning on doing it ever again.

I felt the eyes on me again. Was everybody looking?

A flash of red caught my attention. Kir, across the lunchroom at the entrance to the hall leading to the teachers’ wing. He inclined his head slightly, drew back into the shadow of the hall’s entrance, and vanished. Had he noticed that I’d seen him?

A faint taste of waxed oranges slid across the back of my tongue.

What the . . . I stared at the empty archway, my fingers still glued to the locket’s curve. The metal cooled under my fingertips. My thumb rubbed across the spidery symbols etched on the back, their edges suddenly scraping-sharp.

I knew he was definitely on Anna’s side. What was this, then? A message? Just to throw me off or scare me?

It worked. My heart was pounding, and my palms were slippery.

Leon made a short annoyed sound. “Don’t stare. You think we’re the only ones watching you?”

“No.” I found my voice. “No, really, I don’t think that at all.” Chew on that. I headed for the steam tables again, but the funny thing was, I’d lost my appetite.

Graves and Benjamin appeared as I set my tray on the table that we’d claimed my second day here. I tried asking what the hell that was about, but neither of them answered. Instead, they both tried so hard to amuse me I was able to just make noises and let them circle each other verbally. I shoved my food around with my fork, and afterward I couldn’t even remember what I’d been not-eating.