The Den of Shadows Quartet - Amelia Atwater-Rhodes [72]
Mr. Smith was talking to her again, and she turned her attention back to him. “Sarah, as you’ll see, I like to begin class with a conversation about current events, to keep us involved in the present as well as the history” Raising his voice to address all the students, he asked, “Now, who has something to share?”
The number of hands raised — none — was not overly surprising. Most of the students looked like they were still asleep.
“I know it’s early” Mr. Smith said, encouragingly, “but you are allowed to wake up any time now. Who heard the news last night? What happened in our world?”
Finally a few hands tiredly rose, but most of the students had better things to do. The girl sitting in front of Sarah was reading a book that looked like it was probably an English assignment. Nearby, another student was doing Spanish homework. The teacher was either oblivious, or he just didn’t care. The news story that was being repeated by a girl in the first row wasn’t all that fascinating, anyway.
“Did you just move in?” Christopher asked, his voice quiet to avoid the teacher’s attention. He had a slight accent — not quite a drawl, but smooth and unhurried, with a hint of the South.
Sarah nodded, trying to keep a small portion of her attention focused on the dull classroom conversation, while keeping the rest on the two vampires. “My mother got a new job, teaching in the next town.” It was a plausible lie, which she had come up with earlier.
Mr. Smith moved back in time to the Civil War, and Sarah took notes furiously for an excuse to avoid Christopher’s attempts at conversation. The class was dull, and she already knew most of the information, but if she made a good impression now, Mr. Smith was more likely to cut her some slack later.
Christopher’s silence lasted only until the bell. “How’d you hurt your arm?” he asked as Sarah awkwardly shuffled papers into her backpack after class.
“Thrown off a horse,” Sarah lied effortlessly. “She’s usually a sweet creature, but something spooked her.” As she lifted the heavy backpack, she wondered how in the world humans could possibly carry these things around all day. Her witch blood made Sarah stronger than an average human — her five-foot-four, 130-pound body could bench-press 300 pounds — but she wondered how the humans managed.
“Do you need help with that?” Christopher offered, gesturing to the bag. “What class do you have next?”
“Chemistry,” she answered. “I can handle it.”
“I didn’t mean to suggest you couldn’t,” Christopher responded smoothly. “You just shouldn’t have to bother. I’ve got biology next, anyway, so our classes are near each other.”
She examined his expression, but he appeared sincere. For whatever his reasons, he was honestly trying to play the part of a human teenage boy — an unusually polite one, but human nevertheless.
She didn’t want to make a scene, so she surrendered her backpack, and Christopher carried it without effort, which did not surprise her. If she could lift 300 pounds, as a weak vampire he could probably bench-press a ten-wheeler with about as much effort.
“Thanks,” she forced out, glad the words sounded sincere.
Though her chemistry class was blessedly human, Christopher’s sister was in sculpture with Sarah for the third block of the day.
Sarah’s skills with clay were minimal; she had signed up for this class mainly so she could do something low stress without homework. She’d be lucky if she could make a ball. Nissa, on the other hand, had a great deal of talent, which helped Sarah place her in a way that the girl’s weak aura had not: Kendra’s line.
Kendra was the fourth fledgling of Siete, creator of all the vampires. Though Sarah had never met her, the woman was rumored to be stunning in form and fierce in temper. She was a lover of all the arts, as were almost all of her descendents. Kaleo, with whom Sarah had had her uncomfortable run-in the night before, was Kendra’s first fledgling.
All these thoughts passed through Sarah’s mind quickly as she watched