Page 32 of On Wings of Blood

Instantly I knew it had been the wrong thing to say.

The professor’s eyes narrowed. “You shouldn’t be here at all, Miss Pendragon. You haven’t earned your place like they have.” She indicated the many students sitting in the rows of seats, all watching us with fascination.

I noticed Florence in the second row. She had scooted over and was not-so-subtly patting the seat beside her.

I looked around the room slowly. “Half of these students are vampires, aren’t they? Did they earn their place or are they just here because of their family ties? And of the mortal students, how many of them wanted to be here and how many of them were brought forcibly?”

If one could have heard a pin drop when I walked in, now the silence was truly oppressive.

I saw many of the vampire students snarling silently in my direction and tried not to flinch as rows of sharp teeth came into view.

The silence went on for so long that I thought the professor was about to ask me to leave. Or perhaps she was thinking of the best way to punish me.

Finally, Professor Hassan spoke. “What a fascinating point, Miss Pendragon. But the way in which Bloodwing students are selected is a topic we will not be taking up in this class. However, you are always welcome to meet with Headmaster Kim to discuss your concerns. Now, if you have quite finished disrupting this class, please take your seat.”

I hurried over to Florence’s row and sat down next to her. Guiltily, I eyed her quill and parchment. I hadn’t even thought to bring my own. Regan hadn’t mentioned school supplies to me.

Even though I was probably humiliating her just by my presence, Florence kindly slid a piece of parchment and extra quill over to me with a quick smile.

I tried to smile back, but the truth was, I was rattled. My first class wasn’t off to a great start.

Professor Hassan had resumed her place at the lectern. “Miss Pendragon is evidently well-informed about many aspects of Sangrathan history and culture, despite her claim to being only a recent arrival in our land. Let's test her knowledge, shall we?”

Laughter broke out around me.

“For someone who has been so elevated by one of our esteemed houses, Miss Pendragon appears to show considerable disdain for those of the Pure Blood,” Professor Hassan continued. “But I’m sure she’d be happy to answer some basic questions.” She strode over to the blackboard and raised her hand as if poised to write. “Miss Pendragon, please tell the class why vampires drink blood.”

“Why do vampires drink blood? I...” I stuttered. I’d wondered the same thing that morning but still wasn’t sure I had a grasp on the answer. “To survive,” I settled on.

Professor Hassan’s hand dropped. “To survive? What an imprecise response. I require food to survive, water to live. But what do those substancesdofor me exactly?”

When I said nothing, she sniffed.

Beside me, Florence’s hand shot into the air.

“Yes, Miss Shen?”

“Blood does help vampires to survive as Medra... I mean, Miss Pendragon... already mentioned. But more specifically, it enables them to recharge their unique abilities.”

“Good, Miss Shen. And what are some of those abilities?”

“Oh, there are ever so many,” Florence gushed. “They heal faster than us blightborn do and they can recover from much more serious wounds. They have heightened senses, including sight, smell, and hearing. They can move much more quickly. Their speed has even been mistaken for invisibility or flight. Vampires can go days without taking a blood meal, but doing so grants them superior strength, helps maintain their healing, and supplements their other powers.”

“Other powers such as?” Professor Hassan prompted. “Someone other than Miss Shen, perhaps?”

A boy sitting further down the row on Florence’s side put his hand up then nervously started to lower it.

“Yes, Mister...?” Professor Hassan said. “Do you have an answer for us?”

The young man licked his lips. He was brown-haired with a short, stocky build and seemed tense with nervous energy. His wide, expressive eyes darted about the classroom.

“Sharma, Professor. Naveen Sharma. Well...” He ran his hands through his already-messy hair, as if trying to buy time. But this only resulted in his hair standing up in every direction making him resemble a spiky hedgehog. Behind him, I heard some students snickering.

“Perhaps you’d like to stand up, Mr. Sharma,” the professor suggested, sounding impatient. “It might help you to focus better.”

Naveen jumped up, scattering his parchment and quill onto the floor. “Um, of course. Well, everyone knows that vampires can create thralls.”

“Then that hardly bears stating, does it, Mr. Sharma?” Professor Hassan said drolly.

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