Page 53 of Magical Academy for Delinquents
“What are you doing here?”
“All shifters have to have a private shifting lesson over here, so we work on controlling our instincts. Mine just finished.”
I stared at his knees next to mine. He was so massive since the Unnatural spell. "Your legs are twice as wide as mine," I said, without thinking. My voice sounded like a rusty nail.
"Yeah, takes some getting used to. I have to eat like entire chickens now."
I turned to look at him, my cheek pressed against the wall. Before this shit went down, we'd been friends. Good friends. I'd thought of myself as his second-best friend. He'd probably thought of me as an annoying clinger. God how much had changed. My chest ached dully, lonely--nostalgic even for Evan after a day like today.
I could have stopped talking, could have just sat there in silence and let my donation bag fill up, but I didn't. For some reason, I didn't. I stared at Evan's pale cheek, the chin that had been strong and thick even before his change. I stared at his black eyelashes as he stared out the window across the room. And I said, "I send him blood every month."
Evan blinked, his lashes brushing his cheeks. Then his face turned and his eyes, damp with their own emotion, met mine. "I used to go and donate in person when we were back east."
"Why in person?" I shuddered at the memory of that Institute.
"I wanted to make sure he got fed," Evan replied. "You see how they treat them?"
"There was no fucking security," I growled.
"Not just that," Evan reached over and gently untwisted a partial kink in my tube, so that the blood could flow easier. "I've seen the orderlies there drag vamps down the hall. I tried to follow, but I couldn't see where they took them, they went into a locked hallway."
My forehead crinkled. "Why?" Vamps were hard enough to catch as it was in the first place. Why would anyone move them once they'd been contained? It didn't make sense.
Evan chewed his lip. "When Matthew first got into that Institute, it was full. He was on a waiting list until someone pulled a few strings--"
"Probably Dad." I commented. Mom had been way too messed up to think straight in the aftermath.
"Either way," Evan continued, "vamps don't die unless they're decapitated. So, where'd that opening come from?"
I shrugged. "I got forced into a couple vamp family support groups. One guy said the family eventually decided ... to ... you know..." I shook my head.
"Well, I don't think that many families have decided on the ax. Last time I went to see him, that place was only half full."
My head swirled and I felt dizzy. "What? Where are they moving vamps?"
Evan shook his head. "I dunno. But I doubt their families are taking them back home."
A sad, angry laugh burst out of me. That's what I'd wanted to do. Originally, when everything had happened, I'd wanted us to keep Matthew at home. My parents had both been adamantly against it. It was too dangerous. I'd read a newspaper article about a family who'd tried it. They'd all been drained in their sleep.
"But they can't be exposed to windows or daylight," I murmured, thinking aloud.
"Yeah, I know. And at first, I thought ... maybe ... this is gonna sound awful ... but I thought there might be some serial killer at Matthew's facility. Like someone who'd found the perfect place to live out their twisted--"
I held up a shaky hand. "Don't. I can't handle that right now." The thought of some sick fuck with an ax in hand, strolling down the corridors of that awful place, whistling, opening the door and nodding cheerfully at a nurse who just averted her eyes and kept walking--I couldn't handle it. A shiver went up my spine. My stomach started to pulse.
Evan covered my hand with his own, which pulled my gaze to his long fingers. They wrapped up mine so perfectly. And the warmth offset some of the chill my mental images had created. He said, "I went to two other Institutes. One near Manhattan. Another in Jersey." His eyes went navy-colored and his voice thrummed with anger when he added, "Both of them were half-full too."
"What does that mean?" But just then the device on my arm gave a little beep. I glanced down and realized my donation bag was full. I pulled the HemoLink device off my arm and tossed it and the tube into the trash can. I went to put the pint-bag into the refrigerated foam box that the donation company sent with their kits. But Evan took the bag out of my hands and did it for me.
I glanced up at him once it was all packed away and he'd cleaned up the rest of my trash. Evan reached into his bag and pulled out a sports drink. "Here."
I gulped the red liquid until half the bottle was gone. But when I wiped my lips, I was back to Nancy Drew mode. "Evan, why are all these institutes empty?"
Evan hefted my donation box and my bag for me, like they were nothing. "The only thing I can think of, is that someone powerful is using vamps for something."
"What though? They're wild, not tameable—"
"Immortal," Evan's words cut through mine.
