Part 17 (1/2)

28.

I watch as the headmistress's lips curl into a self- satisfied smirk as the crowd continues to cheer her on. She's wearing a dramatically low-cut red silk gown and boasts glittery jewelry at her fingers, ears, and throat. Gone are the bun and thick gla.s.ses; she's now very Dame Helen Mirren at the Golden Globes and a far cry from her normal Riverdale schoolmarm chic. I guess if you're a super-villain with a plot to take over the world, at some point you have to start dressing the part.

She raises her hands to the crowd and the cheering intensifies. Poor sheep. If only they knew what their mistress is really asking them to sign up for. But, of course, they don't, and so they keep applauding, as if she's going to give away free tickets to a Lady Gaga show to the loudest fan.

With a swish of her wrist, she cuts them off-and silence blankets the room. She clears her throat before speaking. The antic.i.p.ation is so thick you could cut it with a stake.

”My dear slayers,” she says, purring into the microphone. ”It's so good to see all of you gathered here today, united as one front against the evil forces that threaten to batter down our doors. For far too long has Slayer Inc. been a puppet organization, content to do the dirty work for supernatural beings who harbor no appreciation for all that's done for them. But those days are now over.” She pauses, for effect, and her audience mindlessly cheers.

”Are you sure they're worth saving?” Magnus mutters at my side. I shush him.

The headmistress continues, ”Once upon a time we were able to peacefully coexist with the various vampire covens around the world,” she says. ”Enforcing their laws, protecting humanity from harm. But now the Consortium of vampires has grown in number-not to mention hunger for power. They are no longer interested in living under the rules of a nonpartisan police force. Mainly because they are no longer interested in playing by the rules to begin with. Rules, I think we can all agree, were created for the sole purpose of keeping the peace and bettering our society.”

”You know, she's not entirely wrong,” I hear Magnus grudgingly whisper to Jareth. ”There was a time when all Consortium members had a real vote. A chance to voice our opinion without fear of repercussions. Now, if you happen to have a differing opinion to Pyrus, you're bound to be ostracized and punished as I have been.”

”I suppose you're right,” Jareth relents. ”But what can we possibly do about it? I mean, the Blood Coven is not strong enough to go out on its own without the protection of a larger ent.i.ty.”

”I think the Blood Coven is stronger than you might think.”

”Guys! Can we please discuss politics later?” I hiss. ”I need to hear this speech.”

I tune back in to the headmistress. ”I know recently we had a major setback,” she admits. ”The Night School program was infiltrated by a vampire, out to destroy all the work we've been doing to protect our society. As those of you from Riverdale know, we barely escaped with our lives. But now we've regrouped and, thanks to a few exceptional Alphas in our midst, we're stronger than ever and ready to take this campaign to the next level.” She pauses, smiling widely as the crowd once again erupts into the requisite applause.

”And now I'd like to introduce you to one of them,” she continues. ”He started at Riverdale like any other Slayer in Training, but rose quickly through the ranks, becoming the best pupil we had by far-both on the field and in the cla.s.sroom.

”Of course his excellence made him a prime target for the vampire spy. She seduced him, captured him, even tried to kill him. But, students, the skills he learned at Riverdale Academy allowed him to escape and bring back valuable information we will use against the Consortium.” She turns offstage. ”Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Corbin Billingsworth the Third!”

Now the crowd is really freaking out as Corbin steps onto the stage, flas.h.i.+ng the audience a c.o.c.ky grin and swis.h.i.+ng his crimson cape with an overly dramatic flair. He strolls over to Headmistress Roberta and hugs her tightly, as if she's his mentor and best friend in the world. Ha! If only she knew! Her little protege is more conniving than ten vampires put together. Not to mention a total traitor to her ill.u.s.trious cause.

Corbin releases her and turns to face the crowd. The arrogance on his face is completely over-the- top. But the audience doesn't seem to mind. They've fallen hook, line, and sinker for this guy, looking up to him with enraptured faces, as if he's some kind of G.o.d, or at least Justin Bieber. I resist the nearly overwhelming urge to roll my eyes.

”h.e.l.lo, Tokyo!” he cries into the mic, as if he's a rock-n-roller giving a concert. ”Or should I say konichiwa?”

I suppose I don't have to tell you, but the crowd, predictably, goes wild. I'm betting half of these kids have Corbin pinup posters in their lockers.

”Thank you all for coming today,” he says after the crowd finally calms down. ”As Roberta said, we are currently at war, under siege by an undead army. And we must stick together to bear this storm. The vampires are coming and my spies say they're coming soon. We must be ready for them. And so I am asking you here, tonight, to make a pledge of commitment to our cause, by drinking the holy sacrament we are offering to you this day.”

The crowd erupts in murmurs, probably trying to figure out, once again, what the heck this so-called sacrament could be.

Corbin motions to his two a.s.sistants, who, in response, hurry to the back of the stage. They grab hold of the ends of a giant red silk sheet, then yank it down in unison. The crowd gasps as the sheet falls away, revealing my sister, bound to a giant stone altar.

”Rayne!” Jareth cries hoa.r.s.ely. I have to grab his arm to keep him from running forward in an insane attempt to rescue his blood mate.

”Hang on,” I hiss. ”We have to be smart about this.”

Jareth reluctantly hangs back. But I can tell it's nearly impossible for him to fight the urge to save my sister. Which is admirable, if not stupid. I need to figure out my next move, p.r.o.nto.

”This girl-this vampire,” Corbin spits, ”is the one who betrayed us all. The vamshee who snuck into our school and seduced us all into thinking she was just some normal slayer. But in reality, this monster was nothing more than a killer. A terrorist sleeper cell, biding her time, waiting to make her move and destroy us all when we least expected it.”

To my dismay, the crowd totally seems to be buying it. They boo and hiss at my sister and a few shoes are even lobbed onstage. One, in particular, connects with Rayne's stomach and she moans in pain, causing even more jeering from the crazy peanut gallery. I can't help but be reminded of The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe book when the White Witch and her followers sacrifice Aslan. Problem is, unlike the lion in the story, I'm pretty sure my sister can't resurrect herself if she's killed.

”You are right to hate the evil one,” Corbin says to the crowd, giving Headmistress Roberta a small smile. ”But now that we have her under our control, she is going to help us rather than hurt us. Every one of us is going to partake of a single drop of her blood, chased by a purifying drop of the Holy Grail. And once those two bloods-one tainted, one pure-are inside your veins, you will gain the power to stand with us for the final battle against the vampires!”

He raises his hands again, as if expecting more cheers. But he misjudged his audience this time. Instead of excitement, I see worried glances and whispered fear. Seems like while everyone in the crowd is down for a good witch hunt, they draw the line at imbibing her bodily fluids, go figure.

”Um, but won't we turn into vampires if we drink it?” dares one guy at the back of the room.

Headmistress Roberta nods at Corbin, then takes the microphone from him. ”Please.” She sniffs. ”You will become far more powerful than a mere vampire. You will become the ultimate slayer. An essential part of our war against all that is wrong in the world.”

More discontented murmurs from the peanut gallery.

”Does this mean we can't go out in sunlight?” demands a girl to the right. ” 'Cause, like, how am I going to go visit my family in Jamaica if I can't go out in sunlight?”

”And do we have to drink blood?” adds Evelyn, who thankfully I realize is right up by the back door as she promised. ”'Cause I faint at the sight of blood.”

I can see Corbin grit his teeth. This is not how he expected things to go. ”Fools,” he hisses. ”Don't you see what an honor it is to be chosen? You worry about silly, petty things. But look at the big picture. You will become responsible for saving thousands of lives. Protecting your family and friends from a life of mortal slavery at the hands of those who see them as nothing more than cattle, ready to be bled for their own foul purposes. You will be as you trained so long to be-on the front lines of a supernatural war.” He shakes his head, as if disgusted by the lot of them. ”I thought you were soldiers,” he spits. ”Real soldiers make sacrifices for their country-for their world. Don't you want the opportunity to make your world a better, safer place?”

Judging from the faces in the audience, I'm thinking there are quite a few people who wouldn't mind missing out on that particular honor and privilege. And they don't know the half of it. I can't believe Corbin has the gall to stand up there and lie to them all in his crazy quest for revenge. Even Headmistress Roberta, at least, thinks she's on a mighty crusade. He's just a vengeful d.i.c.k who can't get over his Mommy and Daddy issues.

Time to make my move.

”I'll be back,” I whisper to Jareth and Magnus, pus.h.i.+ng my way toward the stage, trying to keep a low profile.

”All right, so if you can all form a line, we will begin the sacrament,” Headmistress Roberta instructs. Evidently the time for debate is through. The Slayers in Training shuffle to obey, not looking all too pleased. But what choice do they have? The doors are locked. The guards have swords. They're in a foreign country and they have no place else to go.

Corbin smirks, then walks over to my sister, still prostrate on the altar, and pulls out a large silver knife. He slashes her leg and places a jeweled cup underneath. Blood gushes from the wound and into the cup. It's all I can do to keep from throwing up.

”Wait!” I cry, leaping onto the stage, just as the first victim steps toward Corbin and his cup.

The audience gasps, probably thinking they're seeing double. The guards lunge at me, but I leap into the air, using my wings to gain alt.i.tude. Once I'm above grabbing distance, I turn to the crowd, beating my wings to stay afloat. ”Don't drink!” I cry. ”She's been poisoned. You won't turn into vamshees. You'll just die!”

Corbin's face twists in rage. ”She's lying!” he cries. ”She's one of them. Look at her wings.” He turns to the guards. ”What are you standing around for? Get her!”

I turn to Headmistress Roberta, who's staring at me with confusion clear on her face. ”Look,” I say. ”I don't agree with your methods, believe me. But there's more going on here than you know. Corbin's betrayed you. He's poisoned my sister's blood, and anyone who takes a sip will die before ever becoming some supernatural vamshee-warrior type.”

Corbin shoots me a death look. ”That's ridiculous,” he entreats the headmistress. ”Why would I want to poison my own people?”

”Because you feel they betrayed you first,” I reply smugly. ”They experimented on your friends. Turned them into vegetables before they perfected their formula. And they would have done the same thing to you, if you hadn't escaped with Rayne.”

”Rayne,” Corbin spits out. ”Rayne nearly killed me. Because of her I'm a blasted creature of the night.”

”Exactly,” I say. ”And there's nothing you hate more than vampires. After all, your parents were killed by one. There's no way you'd just let the Alphas create hundreds more vampire hybrids when your life's mission is to wipe all supernatural beings off the face of the Earth.”

Headmistress Roberta gives Corbin a hard stare. ”Is this true?” she demands.