"You could say that." I could see the greenhouse now. It was a huge white wood-and-glass building, with windows that caught the early morning sun and sparkled so brightly it hurt my eyes. Unlike the rest of Hecate, it looked pretty cheery. There were a bunch of students milling around, looking like blueberries.
"And we're sorry," Anna added. I wondered if they had rehearsed this weird three-way-talking thing they had going on. I imagined them sitting in a circle in their dorm room, brushing their hair and saying, "Okay, so I'll say we feel bad, and then you'll say that your hot boyfriend thinks she's pathetic."
"So can we start over?" Chaston asked. "Friends?"
They were all smiling hopefully at me, even Elodie. I should have known right then and there that this could not end well, but I stupidly smiled back and said, "Yeah. Friends."
"Great!" Chaston and Anna squealed in unison. Elodie sort of muttered it a split second afterward.
"Okay," Chaston said as we approached the green-house. "So as your friends, we thought we should give you a heads up about Defense."
"The Vandy teaches it, and she's awful," Elodie said.
"Right, the scrunchie lady."
Simultaneous eye roll. Were these girls synchronized swimmers in their spare time?
"Yes," Anna sighed. "That stupid scrunchie."
"Jen . . . um, I heard someone call it her portable portal to hell."
All three of them laughed at that. "She wishes," Anna snorted.
"The Vandy was a pretty decent dark witch," Elodie explained, "but she got a little big for her britches, as they say down here. She worked for the Council. Tried to make a play for running Hecate, and . . . well, it's a long story. But it ended with her getting sent to the Council for the
Removal."
"And," Anna added in a conspiratorial whisper, "part of her punishment was that she had to come to Hecate but not as a headmistress.
Just a regular teacher. She's supposed to be an example to others. That's why she's such a bitch."
"She'll definitely pick on you because you're new," Chaston said.
"But," Elodie cut in, "she's super vain. So if you get in trouble, compliment her on her tattoos."
"Tattoos?" I asked. Up close, the greenhouse was even bigger than I'd thought. What the hell had they grown in it? Redwoods?
"She has these really pretty purple tattoos all over her arms. They're magical symbols of some kind, like runes or something," Elodie continued.
"She's really proud of them. Say you like them, and you're in for life with the
Vandy."
We walked through the front door of the greenhouse, Chaston's arm still in mine. The room was huge, and felt especially big because only about fifty people were in there. Defense wasn't split up by age for some reason, so
I noticed a couple of very freaked-out-looking twelve-year-olds. It was bright, obviously, but not hot. There was cool air flowing all around me, so I figured this building had the same spell going on as the main house.
In a lot of ways it was like a normal high school gym: wooden floors, blue exercise mats, weights. But I couldn't help noticing that some things were most definitely not normal.
Like several iron manacles bolted to the wall. And a full-size gallows erected at the back of the room.
Elodie immediately ran off to find Archer, who, it turns out, was not as skinny as I'd thought. The boys' uniforms were basically the same as the girls', and his blue T-shirt clung to a chest that was a lot more defined than I would have guessed. I tried not to look, and I definitely tried to stamp down the little icy spark of jealousy that shot through me when he lowered his lips to Elodie's for a quick kiss.
A tall redhead waved at me. "Hi, Sophie!"
I waved back, wondering who the heck . . . Oh, right. Red hair. Beth the werewolf. I liked her lots better when she wasn't drooling on me. She gestured for me to come stand by her, but before I could, a loud nasal voice broke through the chatter.
"All right, people!"
The Vandy moved through the crowd, wearing the same uniform we were. I immediately noticed the tattoos. They were a deep vibrant purple that looked even brighter against her pale flabby skin.
The ever-present scrunchie held back her brown hair. She had small piggish dark eyes that scanned the crowd, and even from a distance, I could see this weird eager look on her face. Like she was hoping someone would defy her so that she could squash them like a bug.
Put simply, she freaked me the hell out.
"Listen up!" she barked in a thin voice. Like Mrs. Casnoff, she had a
Southern accent, but hers sounded harsh instead of smooth and melodic. "I'm sure your other teachers will tell you that your classes in Magical History or
Classifications of Vampires, or, what, Personal Grooming of Werewolves"--I noticed a few boys, including Justin, bristle, but the Vandy continued--"are more important than this one. But tell me this: how much are those classes going to help you when you're under attack from a human? Or a Brannick?
Or, worst of all, an Eye? You think books are going to save you when
L'Occhio di Dio comes calling?"
I guess we didn't look sufficiently impressed, because she seemed to puff up with anger. Her finger practically pierced the clipboard in front of her as she pointed to something.
"Mercer! Sophia!" she shouted.
I hissed a very bad word under my breath, but I raised my hand. "Um .
. . here. Me."
"Come forward!"
I did. She yanked me by my arm until I was standing next to her.
"Now, Miss Mercer, it says here on the chart that this is your first year at
Hecate, correct?"
"Yes."
"Yes, what?"
"Uh . . . yes, ma'am."