Amelia's interrogation went smoothly. The department kept her dress, though they wouldn't find anything on it except Jane's sweat from the dance.
Amelia, however, couldn't speak a full sentence afterward. According to her, the Department of Order — the department, for short — was an independent entity established to ensure the safety and fairness in vampires' society. They were the equivalent of the human world's police, only far more powerful: feared by many, obedient to almost none.
"Really? The man assigned to me was pretty nice. But he does look scary."
"That was Marvin Rivane. I heard he's very old. He was already here when the school was first founded." Amelia's voice turned to a whisper as she lifted a hand to magically block their words from escaping this room.
***
The week passed quietly. Sunday was filled with the smell of aging paper and the familiar scent of the blanket brought from home. She read until the words started to blur and the book slipped off the bed.
When Monday came, Jane forced herself to wake up early. It was her official first day at school, her first one without all the twists and turns, and she had no intention of repeating the cafeteria scene.
This academy was a "mutual ground" between vampires and humans. Vampires learned how to coexist with humans, while humans could gain prestige and privileges by studying here.
To prevent stupid conflicts or accidental provocations, a coded system of pins was introduced.
Normal students wore glass pins. Their families weren't necessarily rich; some were admitted through exceptional records.
Students who chose to be vampires' "companions" wore red pins. They received better care and, most importantly, the chance to become a vampire. They belonged to their vampire — one or many. The only ones allowed to "bully" them were their own masters.
"Nearly half of the school is vampire." Jane tried to ease her goosebumps. "And we are like... second from the bottom."
Unfortunately, she couldn't switch her pin to the glass one. Upgrade meant well, downgrade was another story.
"Yeah...more for you to choose from,"
Jane laughed when she saw Amelia's expression. It was hard to stay mad at Amelia for long. Her fate had been determined the moment she stepped through the gates. Whoever assigned her the wrong pin was the one to blame.
Amelia did what she thought was best, which was introducing Jane to a vampire known for being a "picky eater" …
Okay, she might need more consideration.
"That's for the humans," Amelia continued.
"The vampires have three kinds of pins. The star is the lowest, the lightning's the middle — like Ryan." She quickly glanced at Jane, only to receive a blank face.
"And the last one — the highest, the most powerful in this school — is the meteor." Amelia leaned closer with each word until she was so near Jane could smell a sweet scent coming from her hair.
"The diamond with a... half moon thing above it?"
The walk with Carl Alden had given Jane enough time to memorize that pin. She thought it was a diamond with a sparkling effect.
"Yes, yes, that one!" Amelia said, then suddenly looked at Jane. "Wait — how do you know? Have you met one?"
"The president has it. I saw him on stage," Jane's eyes flicked sideways.
She quickly changed the subject to a question that had been circling in her head.
"What is the material for my pin, Amelia? I thought it was a gemstone, but it doesn't have the same reflection as yours."
Amelia hesitated. Her mouth opened, then shut again, while her eyelashes couldn't stop trembling. That pause alone confirmed Jane's worst guess.
"Yeah... that's blood. Your blood. But only because you haven't found a master yet."
The weight of the necklace had never been heavier. She didn't need to look down to remember she'd been walking around like a mobile piece of meat with a for sale sign.
"Wouldn't that be disgusting. I mean...the smell?" Jane tried her best not to mention the sick idea behind this.
"They mix something in for preservation. It's changed every year."
Amelia quickly replied this time: "And don't worry, you will find a master soon."
Jane flipped the pin in her palm. Lying on the back was a tiny hole and a small rectangular outline.
No way she would wear this thing around school.
She knew she had the tools for this "project": a needle, a little red paint, and a few drops of water.
Jane carefully opened the pin, gripping it between her thumb and forefinger. Her breath caught in her chest. One wrong move and she could end up with blood on her hands.
Two-day-old blood.
Ryan, the dead vampire, had said they didn't need pins to hunt anyway. So who would care if she replaced it with paint?
Apparently, no one.
She walked into class that evening. There were all kinds of people in this class: humans, companions, third-rank vampires, and... her.
A girl with black hair and sharp green eyes was watching Jane while she was busy checking everyone's social status. When their gazes intertwined, the girl's face was delighted. Her lips slightly curved up, a charm that could seduce anyone. She wore a lightning pin.
There was something familiar about this girl. Could it be from their same hair colour?
Jane replied with a guilty little smile, the kind a kid makes when they are caught stealing.
She rushed to her seat, where a white head was buried in folded arms.
Jane sat down with a quiet sigh of relief. Sitting by the aisle meant she didn't have to bother anyone to get in. This schedule was abnormal; getting used to it must have taken time. Even her roommate, who had been at the academy for a year, still slept until noon.
Speaking of Amelia, there she was. Jane could see her golden hair among other people; their eyes met for a brief moment before parting ways.
Walking at the front of the group was James, Ryan's friend, the one who had reported her.
How coincidental? Or was this academy that deprived of class?
He walked past her to the end of the same row. There was nothing worth remembering about their fleeting interaction.
Then the teacher entered. His appearance exuded a sense of knowledge and time, fitting with what she was about to study next.
"History. The only subject that repeats itself because no one survives long enough to learn from it," he began. "Today, we'll study the same mistake every king and conqueror has made — underestimating their opponent."
Listening to the teacher reminded Jane of what she had expected when she first came here: a better education.
The way he spoke, the sudden turn in his tone, kept her concentrated throughout the lesson. To be fair, this was also a better schedule for Jane to actually learn anything.
With all the distractions stripped away, she could actually enjoy this school.
When the class reached Napoleon's misjudgment, something hit her back. She ignored it.
Then another. And another. The objects flying toward her kept getting heavier and more deliberate.
Jane glanced down. Beneath her seat was a collection of random projectiles: small balls of paper, bigger balls of paper, erasers,... nothing loud enough to draw attention.
She didn't need to turn to know who it was. But she did anyway.
Her glare met James's — smug and delighted that his little game had earned her reaction. His desk had turned into an armory for his next throw.
Amelia was sitting nearby. Her head was shaking, begging Jane not to respond. She clearly begged the wrong person.
Jane's chest rose and fell. She pulled herself back to the lesson, but the attack didn't stop.
The image of what would come next flashed in her mind, along with her body's desire to respond.
Jane curled her fingers around the edge of the wooden chair.
If she dodged, the person in front would be the new destination — and the show would only be more interesting for him.
He wouldn't stop until he was satisfied.
The sound of something slicing through the air put her thoughts to an end. Jane tilted to the right, her arm raised across her face, causing her eyes to flinch from a few loose strands of hair flying in.
Metal and cold.
She caught the pen and spun it between her fingers. The sharp tip pierced her skin, deepening the black ink with a shade of red.
Finally, her pen-spinning skill had a use.
She pressed it tighter. A thin stream ran from her palm to her wrist and became a victory in the eyes of those sitting behind.
"Cover it."
A voice came from her side. Her desk mate seemed tired, like anyone would when their sleep was interrupted. His lashes covered most of his eyes, hiding what he was thinking.
"Thanks." Jane accepted the wet towel packet.
"Can I know your name, deskmate?"
"Mark."
Jane always appreciated kindness. That was her weakness.
"Ouch..." Her face twisted like she had bitten a tangerine. Now that the adrenaline was gone, all the pain gathered in her palm.
"Squeeze it in. There's ethanol."
He pulled her hand toward him and wrapped the towel directly around the wound. With a tight knot, the blood stopped spreading wider, and so did the smell of it.
This foolish girl had nearly turned herself into a meal. He couldn't smell the difference in her blood, but they could.
Mark stared at her quietly.
Black hair, black eyes — against a pale, sickly complexion. She fit the textbook image of a vampire, but lacked their usual hypnotic manner.
There was something about her he couldn't quite figure out, something that woke him from his sleep.
And this annoying vampire.
"Teacher, she didn't give me back my pen."
Jane turned toward the voice. Really?
"Sorry, I was about to return it. It rolled into my hand," Jane said to the teacher.
He clearly knew what was going on. She saw how his eyes moved toward their row and paused briefly on James when she was sending a help signal to him.
"Don't bother me with such a small problem," he said simply.
The class fell back into rhythm. The teacher resumed his lecture. Jane could finally study without having to guard herself.
One person, however, had not moved on.
James stared at the pen. It was cleaned with a bandage that wrapped around an open wound. The smell of iron and ethanol lingered in the air, surrounding him and filling his mind. Saliva kept building in his mouth, but he refused to swallow.
James shook his head and looked up toward the source of the smell. His grip around the pen tightened until it snapped in his hand.
***
Getting back to the dorm wasn't easy. Jane let out a long sigh as a heavy hand clamped onto her shoulder and a wall of muscle blocked the doorway.
"Let me go!" she demanded.
First, the childish throwing in class — now this?
"Where is Ryan? What did you do to him?"
His followers closed in until they reached the center of the classroom. Vampires and humans pressed together, forming a barricade that made escape impossible.
"Yeah, what could a girl like me do? What could a human girl possibly do to a vampire?" Jane said, a bit too loudly.
The whole class went silent. Students who hadn't left the room gathered together from afar, while the rest watched her as if she were a dead object.
Oh shit. She'd said something she shouldn't have. She was too exhausted to revise her thoughts before speaking. Jane knew it: her mouth would lead to her death one day.
DING DONG—
The bell cut through the moment.
Curfew had begun. It was both a favor and a protection — a courtesy to the vampires and a shield for the humans.
Jane took a big gulp.
"The Department let me go," she tried to control her voice, making it as calm and steady as possible. "Even if you don't trust me, you should trust them."
If this had been another time, she might have managed a few drops of tears. Today, she had none left; every drop of water in her body had already turned to sweat.
James didn't answer. His chest couldn't rise, and his skin couldn't turn red, so he stood there with his jaw clenched and his fists tight.
Then, he turned to the rest of the class:
"From now on, she's on our blacklist. If you help her, talk to her, or even stand near her—consider us your enemy!"