Defiance

play soccer and basketball. I wanted to catch a game one of these days. I’m not big on organized sports, but seeing a bunch of wulfen play hoops sounded like a good time.

“I hate it here,” I whispered. “I want to go home.”

That was what my mother would have said. She never could stand being cooped up. It was one of the few things Dad would ever say about her.

God, I understood.

I didn’t really have a home, did I? Dad and I traveled. It was what we did. No place was home, unless it was maybe the old blue truck with him driving and me naggervating. Or Gran’s house, all closed up in Appalachia, everything under dustcovers and the key right where it should be. We only went back once after she died, to set everything to rights so it could be closed up.

Other than that, there was nothing. No place was safe. I didn’t have anywhere to go. I could’ve kept Graves and me on the run for a while, before the suckers hunted us down. Long enough to figure out something else, right? He was smart, he could have helped.

If I’d been smart enough, quick enough, to explain. Instead, he’d thought I was covering something up. Just like his mom.

It was kind of ironic, actually. Both of us paying for things other people did, over and over again.

I braced my hands on the windowsill. Doing this without Nat was going to be a little freaky. I hadn’t realized how, well, used to her I’d gotten. She was just that kind of person, easy to spend time with.

Benjamin told me that some svetocha had made a game of slipping away from their guards and escorts. At the time, I’d thought it was a stupid idea. Escape from your only protection when there were vampires trying to kill you? At least I’d always had the sense to go during daylight, and never very far without Nat.

But some kinds of protection are more like smothering. Suffocation kills you more slowly than evisceration. The end result is the same. You get to where you’ll run almost any risk to escape, if only for a few minutes.

I made sure my sneakers were tied securely, braced my palms on the ledge again. Peered out and down.

It was a different thing to be doing this at night, too.

At least I didn’t sense anyone outside my door. I could bet they were out in the hall, though. Probably Benjamin, and most probably Christophe. Just waiting for me to come out and argue.

I didn’t give myself time to get nervous. There was a ledge running around the building here, just below the window. I crab-walked my foot out, then twisted so I was crouched with my back toward the drop. Graves’s coat hung like black wings, and for a second I felt like I was inside his skin, tilting my head the way he would have.

Just do it, just like you’ve done it before. And don’t make any noise.

I jumped.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

I dropped three floors and landed like a whisper, the aspect snapping over my skin like a rubber band again. That was one of the first things Christophe had taught me. If I’d been raised djamphir, I probably could have been doing some of this stuff all along. And nobody had thought to teach me what was, to them, such a basic skill.

There was that, at least. Christophe didn’t take anything for granted when it came to training me. He started with stuff even djamphir babies knew.

Stop thinking about him, Dru.

The balcony here gave onto a number of classrooms and a long wood-floored room with mirrors along the side. I’d’ve thought it was for ballet, but the lines painted on the floor were weird. I wanted to ask, but I also didn’t want anyone to know I was using it like a freeway. The windows were all locked, but on one of them, the lock was broken.

Don’t ask—I’ll just say that it’s really easy to hex a lock. Gran always went on and on about how you need to be careful with that because people need their privacy and everything. But I figure Gran would’ve been the first one to tell me that having an escape route all picked out from my room would be a good idea.

Thinking of Gran here at the Schola made me smile. A goofy grin, I could tell just from the way it felt against the bones of my face. It was also painful, but in a sweet way.

Except that it led to me thinking about Dad, and that freezing day when his corpse had come looking for me. A shiver went through me, and I shoved the memory away as hard as I could. With an almost-physical jerk that made the coat swish a little.

I padded through the long, dark room. The mirrors were dusty, and it always smelled stuffy, like nobody had been breathing in here for a long time. I twisted my ponytail up as I walked, digging another elastic out of my pocket to keep it in a sloppy bun. Nathalie was just going to have a fit over brushing it out later.

I wished she was right beside me, kind of. It would’ve been nice. It would’ve been even nicer if Graves was right next to me, slinking along quietly, that sarcastic little smile on his face and . . .

God, will you just stop it? Sticking the knife in.

The double doors were quiet when I put my hand against them. I extended the fingers of the touch, didn’t feel anyone breathing outside. Still clear. No little static-laden pools of don’t look here that would have meant a teacher or one of the guys meant to watch me. Graves’s coat brushed my ankles. I could kind of see why he wore it everywhere. It was armor between me and the world. Like a snail’s shell. There were plenty of pockets, too. I didn’t want to stash anything in here—it felt like putting stuff in someone else’s purse, you know? You just don’t.

But I could see where a kid who liked to be prepared for anything would find it comforting. I might even invest in one of these coats if—when—we got him back.

Except we might not. It’s been weeks, you can’t track him, and going out there to get him isn’t a good idea. Everyone keeps telling you that.

I was getting to the point where I wasn’t sure how much of what everyone was telling me was in Graves’s best interest. Or mine.

The hall outside was dark. Marble busts glowered across the hall at each other, perched on their carved pedestals. I waited a little bit, breathing softly and making sure. Then I slipped out and headed for the stairs at the end.

From there, it would be a short crisscross and a dash across one of the quads, and I could hook around and find the little copse of trees where I’d lost Graves’s trail last time. With his earring and his coat, I stood a better chance of seeing something. Getting some kind of clue.

It couldn’t hurt. And seriously, if I had to stay up in that room and just pace until Nathalie came to check on me, I’d go nuts. Out here, with Graves’s coat making that familiar whispering sound, I could pretend I was Goth Boy, stretching my legs to imitate his loping, gangly stride. It was just one step from the pretending to the seeing, and if I was patient enough, it would happen.

If it didn’t, well, I’d just keep trying. At least it was something I could do.

What was that? A noise, behind me?

I shot a nervous glance over my shoulder. The hall was deserted, the marble busts absolutely still between falls of dusty velvet. Still, something was off. Anxiety tightened my stomach into a squirming ball. It was ruining my concentration.

I sped up a little, but that didn’t help either. I took another glance over my shoulder. Nothing in the hall but dim dusty shadows.

When I turned back around, Christophe was suddenly there.

I actually flinched and let out a strangled shriek. I backpedaled furiously, almost tripping on the coat’s long hem. He moved in on me with spooky darting speed. Herding me, just the way I hated. I ended up with my back against the wood paneling right next to a long curtain of faded red velvet. He’d backed me right up into the wall.