Shadow Embraced (Haven Academy Book 1) [Completed]

Chapter 11

For some reason, I thought Sunday would mean a nice sleep-in. No such luck.

"Get up, Scar." Rayne leans over me, shaking my shoulder. Her voice is low and rough. At least she's not waking me with a cup of water again.

"Leave me alone," I moan and pull the covers over my head.

"Can't you get yourself up for once?" She tears the bedspread from me. "Just so you know, you'll be in trouble if you don't show up."

"Why would you care?" I cover my face with my pillow.

"Okay, okay. I get it." She rips the pillow away and extends her arm towards me. "Hi, I'm Rayne Ritzer and I'm your roommate."

"Okay, Rayne," I say, unsure of where she's going with this. "I know who you are."

"What I'm saying is that I would like to get to know my roommate. When you arrived, I was kind of preoccupied."

Yeah, she was still sleeping. She hasn't said much to me since. I look at the hand before pushing myself up and shaking it. "I'm Scarlet Devena."

"Okay, now that that's over with now." She smiles. "Let's get going before we're late."

Rayne has me out the door before I even finish changing into my uniform. Trying to pull on a boot while my bipolar roommate shoves me down the hall is no easy feat. When we arrive at the stairs, it becomes obvious what she's doing. Rayne is using me as a crutch, trying to hide the pain she's in. That apology had better not be because she just needed me to lean on.

Students flock across the field toward a distant building at the edge of the woods. It looks like a chapel – tall, wooden structure with steeples sprouting from the roof. A stained glass window situated above the door depicts a creature embracing a bleeding woman.

Inside, students fill the pews. From the number of pale faces surrounding me, it looks like this gathering's only the VIP's – Vampires in Practice. Thick crimson curtains flow down the walls. The carpet is the same colour, only a shade or two darker. At the far end of the room is a bench adorned in a simple black silk cloth. In front of it stands an intricate, carved stone altar. The room falls into silence as a speaker takes her place behind it. Talon.

"We have reached the end of yet another fulfilling week." Her voice echoes throughout the chapel. "New faces have come among us, and we have grown. Now is a time to be thankful for the gifts bestowed upon us as we draw together for the feeding, and pray that it will replenish the energies in preparation for the week to come. May that time be just as fruitful."

As she finishes her speech, a row of six figures in black velvet cloaks line up along the bench, sitting with their backs to the students. Row by row, students rise and form a line heading toward the altar. At least I'm up the front and, with some luck, I can make a quick escape and crawl back into bed. My body still screams for sleep and Rayne's constant leaning on me isn't helping. If I had it my way, I'd leave right now.

All thoughts flee my mind as I realise what the robed people are doing. With graceful, practised movements, they lower their hoods, tilt their heads, and wait. The students behind, lower themselves as if in prayer, they close their mouth against the cloaked person's neck like a gentle kiss. It's feeding time.

I want nothing more than to run. The only problem is I'm not sure which direction I want to go – away from this horror, or toward the enticingly sweet aroma. The flow of students carries me forward in their rhythm. No matter how much I try, I can't tear my attention away from the faint trail of blood that snakes down each student's face as they depart.

The line moves with an unrelenting pace, bringing me closer to the source of my distress. I watch as each student has their turn and every now and then, the feeder gets up, with some help, and leaves the room, only for a fresh victim to take their place. I find myself at the front of the queue and facing the back of a feeder. My heart thrashes against my chest. I study the feeder as I try to centre myself. A girl. Can't be much older than fifteen. She tilts her head to the side and holds her dark curls away from her pale neck, waiting for me to proceed. A series of small scars cover her neck. Ruby-like beads emerge from the sites of her latest bite wounds.