Shadow Embraced (Haven Academy Book 1) [Completed]

Chapter 6

"I'm sure you'll be a dear and explain the rules to Miss Devena. Show her around." The woman smiles despite the slight growl in her voice.

"I would love to, Mrs Hallows." The girl's sweet tone makes me sick.

Hallows nods and turns to me. "Have a good look at your schedule. You are expected to start tomorrow." She disappears down the passageway.

"Get inside and shut the door, already." Without looking at me, Rayne walks back into the room.

Inside are two identical beds with black bedspreads. Fiery red stitching that looks like a mess of vines, forming a triangle, with a crow's silhouette in the centre, decorates the material. Beside each bed is a small black table and matching wardrobe. A sturdy bookcase forms a divider down the centre of the room and a large desk with a computer resting on it sits against the wall, are the only pieces of furniture. Windows draped with deep purple curtains line the wall. This sure is comfortable for a prison.

Her side of the room is little more than a war-torn wasteland with books and magazines tossed haphazardly on the desk. Clothes are strewn across the floor and posters of the latest hot actors and bands plaster the wall beside her bed at angles that hurt to look at.

My side of the room is so bare it looks sterile. The only thing on my side is a bag at the foot of the bed. Giving the bag a slight kick, I turn to introduce myself.

"I'm Scar. I guess we're roommates now," I say, trying to sound as friendly, and not terrified, as possible, hoping she can't see how I really feel.

"Rayne. Now, if you excuse me, I'm going to bed. Don't touch my stuff." She gets into her bed.

"Aren't you meant to explain things to me?"

"Don't care. The door's there. Go have a look for yourself. Just stay out of my way."

Well, that's great. If being forced into a new life isn't bad enough, I've got a brand new friend to top it all off. What more could I possibly want?

Looking around the room. A small book and a pile of papers sit on my desk. Maybe there's some hint as to what I'm supposed to be doing. Sitting on my bed, I flip through the book. A section on meals, complete with a list of times the dining chamber will be serving food. Breakfast starts at noon - this place is weird.

A section detailing dress code follows. Full uniform is required at all times while on the grounds. After that, it's onto personal schedules, including tardiness and absenteeism. Only two words sum up their view on those subjects: 'not allowed.'

The guidebook deals with almost every topic imaginable - fighting, leaving the grounds and mixed relationships, whatever that is; most of them are covered by those two magic words. Not allowed.

Included in the papers beside the guidebook is my schedule. I hold my breath as I look at it. A seven-day roster. Most of the day is filled with exercise, medical, society, general studies and creative outlet. There's also something called Advanced Control, whatever that is, and also Feeding Service that takes place on Sundays. I have no time for much else.

I fold up the paper, shove it in my pocket and look over at sleeping beauty. I can't wait around here all day. Besides, this is the only chance I'll get to look around without needing to be someplace. Moving towards the door, I take one final glance at the room before I leave.

* * *

The yard has an eerie, subdued feel to it. It's as if, no matter what, nothing could wake this world. Nothing moves. I would have found this strange, empty atmosphere frightening, but right now, the silence is something of a relief. The smell of wet dew dancing on the morning breeze calms the chaos thundering inside my head and lets me forget the train wreck my life has become.

After a few moments of aimless wandering, I can conclude, without a doubt, that I'm going to get lost here. This place is one enormous maze. There are various sporting fields. Trees crowd the edges, broken by narrow gaps revealing paths leading off into the woods. Paved roads claw their way in from the ghost town. A massive garden sprawls along the western side of the complex, complete with impressive statues and a giant water-spitting fountain. And, let's not forget the all-encompassing wall snaking along the perimeter.

A loud crash obliterates the tranquil morning stillness. It came from the main building. I rush toward the structure, but there's no one around. Maybe I imagined it. Another crash from above. Looking up, I see a lone figure blazing across the rooftop on a skateboard, scattering swarms of crowds in his wake, dangerously close to the edge.

One of the crows changes directions and startles the skater. He shoots out, over the edge and into open air. I want to scream, but the sound catches in my throat.

I squeeze my eyes shut and await the inevitable thud. When it doesn't happen, I risk looking again.

The board glides through the air as though he hadn't left the ground, defying gravity with each turn. Soft crackling hisses through the air. After a few minutes of physics-breaking acrobatics, the skater notices my presence. Showboating as he drops, he brings the board in for a feather-light stop in front of me. Kicking the board into his hand, he brushes his chestnut-coloured hair out of his eyes before giving me a goofy grin. His hair is cut short except for a fringe and a long rattail that sticks out from the back of his head.

Looking around, his brown eyes search through the air before coming to rest on me. "Hey there."

"Hi," is the only thing I can think to say; my brain is still frozen on the fact this guy can fly.

"Let me guess." He holds his fingers against his temple like a TV magician. "You're new."

"That obvious?"

"Out on your own on a Sunday, and so early too." He smiles. "Also, it looks like you just about pissed your pants when you saw me jump."

I turn my head away from him, wondering what my face must look like.

"Trying to find your way around, huh?"

I force a smile, trying to figure out what this boy was. I can't fly, so he probably isn't a vampire. Although, I don't know what I can do. "This place is huge. I just know I'm going to get lost."

"Then allow me to do the honour of providing you with a guided tour of this fine establishment." He looks around the area before a massive grin spreads across his face. "First stop, breakfast."

The dining hall is a colossal cavern, which looks as if a high-class restaurant and a school cafeteria were shoved in a lender and left to spin. Rows of simple tables and plastic chairs are scattered around the room while a seemingly endless line of polished silver buffet trays sits up front. Elegant crimson cloths flow over the buffet tables, which overflow with food. There's a lot to choose from. Wide arrays of fresh fruit, stacks of cereal, trays of various meats - several of the raw variety - and egg products left on the warmer.

Without even waiting for me to catch up, Flyboy charges his way over to the buffet and starts stacking platefuls of food onto a plastic carrying tray. Watching him balance four over-flowing heaps of mixed food, I shake my head and grab an apple. I don't know when the last time I ate is, but it appears I still need food to function.

His eyes survey the room before he leads me to a table hidden in the far corner. The rest of the hall is empty except for a pair of girls who are so engrossed in their own conversation I doubt they even saw us come in. Giving the room one last sweeping glance, he turns his attention toward me.

"By the way, I'm Paul Gavin." He shoves a forkful of egg into his mouth. "I remember when I first came here. The worst part was getting used to the schedule because my parents are strong believers in using Non-time."

"Non-time?" I heard Elysium talking about Non's, but never asked what she meant. Stupid.

"Yeah, the time they live by in the not-us world. Coming here was just what I needed, though," he continues. "Seeing the way the Nons insult our ancestors with all those Hollywood stereotypes pisses me off. I'm tempted to go after them and show them exactly what we really are."

He pauses. I guess he's waiting for a response.

"Yeah," I say. What I'm agreeing to, I have no idea; it just sounds like the right answer.

"Actually, I was glad to survive." He shakes his head and gives a bitter chuckle. "My parents kept telling me how sure they were that I would reject the transformation and die. I guess I showed them, right?"

He pauses again. This time I don't know what to say. I give a nod and try not to think too much about the resentment in his voice.

"Let me guess," he says, back in joyful puppy mode. "Vamp. Pale skin, sharp teeth, piercing eyes and the overpowering urge to be mysterious." He shakes his head. "Although you're shorter than most; it's almost hard to place your race."

"What's yours then?" Should I have asked that? Does it make me sound like an idiot?

"Witch, of course, and proud of it. Perfect body, long hair and adorable smile, that's pretty much the standard for witches - well, most of the time anyway." He turns his head and lifts the rattail so I can see his neck. A series of small ridges protrude along the path of his spine, and from each node flows a delicate network of veins like a giant spider web. "And don't go calling me a wizard. I get insulted by the ignorant masses who think that just because I'm male I should be called that. Wizards are frauds you see peddling cheap parlour tricks for money."

"What about the werewolves, then?"

"The dogs?" He squishes his nose and sticks his tongue out. "They're often tanned, muscular and not particularly bright." He pushes his now empty tray aside.

I stare at the half-eaten apple in front of me.

"You must have a lot on your mind," he says. "A new life, a new place, and all the new feelings brought on by the transformation."

I nod and try to fake a smile. "I didn't expect this place to look like this."

"No one ever does. They let us do what we want, as long as we obey the rules and stay inside the compound," he says. "I don't know who they fear for most, us or the dumb Nons out in the village. Come on." He stands up. "We have a lot of ground to cover if I'm gonna show you this place."

* * *

I know one thing for certain. I don't have to worry about getting lost because I'll never know where I am to begin with. This place is bigger than it looks. It's late afternoon by the time Paul finishes showing me the grounds.

"This is it, the last but most important stop on our tour," Paul says after a period of comfortable silence.

I look for the important feature but see nothing. We're standing in the middle of an empty field about fifty metres from the dorm.

"Look down."

A line of small white stones divides the field at our feet. It curves as it travels all the way out to the forest behind the dorms.

"See the stones? It marks the edge of Vamp territory. While there are many places I'd like to be today, Fang Central isn't one of them. Therefore, this is where we part ways."

"Well, thanks for showing me around today."

"No prob." He smiles. "It's not as bad as you'd think."

I turn to leave before I realise I realise I haven't introduced myself. I face him and say, "By the way, my name's Scar."

"I'll see you around, Scar." Giving a small chuckle, he walks away.

I head straight for the dorm and open the door. The cool darkness within greets me. Sounds roar downstairs. The screams and hammy acting surging from the TV proclaim some B-grade horror movie is playing. I take a step closer, then change my mind. I don't think I'm ready to deal with a room full of these people. And, if they all act like Rayne, I'm better off on my own. I head for the stairs.

"Not going to join us then?" a low voice says behind me.

I turn around, my gaze coming to rest on a boy. He looks like he's about seventeen with long black hair pulled back into a loose ponytail. For some reason, my hands' quiver. His eyes - almost an unnatural black - meet mine.

"You're new," he says.

I nod. I don't think I can speak without it coming out like a terrified yelp. How do I know these things won't see straight through my charade? I don't know anything apart from what Elysium's told me, which is practically nothing.

"You must be Scarlet. It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Daemon." His words sound like honey rolling off his tongue.

"My room... tired..." I manage to say.

"No sweat." His voice is smooth. Why can't I take my eyes off him? "The invitation is still open, in case you change your mind."

"Thanks." I turn and head up the stairs, trying to be as casual as possible, and stumble over a couple in the process. I hope he didn't see that. I rush to my room, dive on my bed and bury my face in my pillow. How am I supposed to act normal when I don't even know what normal is?