A Residence

Cat didn't sleep. Nor did she deserve to. What the hell? She had no business kissing Sebastian in the woods, no matter how long it'd been since she'd last seen some action.

She'd never been fond of celibacy. In Rome, her family gave her Saturday nights off; she headed straight to hot tourist spots and played with the hottest guy she could find for half a night. Here, there was nothing for miles upon miles, and she'd been ordered not to leave Oldcrest without an escort.

When Levi had asked her to go to London last March, she'd had to call her aunt and request permission.

Yes, it was sad for a twenty-seven-year-old, grown-ass vampire. But that was what it meant to be a Stormhale. If Aunt Drusilla had heard that she'd gone out of the territory after being explicitly ordered not to, there would have been hell to pay. Punishment. Not physical, although Drusilla didn't squirm at slaps when she felt it was necessary. But Cat’s true punishments were worse. She'd wait for Catherine to truly fall in love with something, and then rip it away from her.

The first time, it had been her owl, which she'd found wounded outside of their land and nursed back to health. When Cat failed her magic tests, Drusilla crushed it in her grasp. Then, there’d been the piano. Cat loved playing, and at the time, she'd been good.

When she was nineteen, Drusilla told Cat to seduce a visitor. It wasn't the first time that she'd been given such a task, but Cat hadn't fancied the guy. He was a complete tool, and sexist to boot. So she said no, and Drusilla broke her fingers, twisting them one by one.

She remembered that day well.

"That man owns a bank I want to be in business with. And he's not easy to please. But for some reason, he fancies you, a stupid, spoiled brat. So, you will fuck Robert for your family, Catherine."

She'd already snapped the index fingers by then.

Catherine steeled her resolve, straightening her spine.

"I won't."

Drusilla moved on to her middle fingers. And then the rest. Catherine managed not to scream or cry, wincing through the ordeal.

She knew Drusilla could have forced her, regardless, but she didn't. And after that day, she never demanded that Cat whore herself again. She'd earned her aunt's reluctant respect.

But she'd lost her ability to play music.

That had happened years before Cat turned, and so the healing had taken some time. Though a competent doctor reset the fingers, she never played again, even after regaining the use of her hands.

The incident had taught her one lesson. She couldn't afford to show what she loved. What she hated. What she felt. Not in the pit of vipers where she'd been raised.

Cat refused to feel.

Hence why that kiss had made no sense whatsoever. She was on a dangerous slope. Because she'd definitely felt last night. Lust. Desire. Intrigue.

These were feelings for normal people who had their freedom, not Stormhale heirs.

She sighed, heading out of bed and down to the right wing’s common room.

It was empty, as usual. Few residents lived in this part of the house, and they didn't have the same sense of community as the rest of the Institute students. They were the predators. Cat got along with Chloe, but the others gave her a wide berth.

The ground floor was decorated in black and white, like a chessboard, with a checkered floor, black velvet sofas and armchairs, and white tables and sideboards.

Her eyes went to the first object she'd noticed after moving in, tucked in the corner of the room.

A piano.

Six years had passed since she'd played anything at all. No doubt she'd entirely lost the ability by now.

"Hey!"

Chloe surprised her, which meant that her mind really was a mess: vampire or not, the woman definitely wasn't stealthy.

"I didn't think you'd be up already. Didn't you have patrol a few hours ago?"

She nodded. "Yeah. You know, undead and all. We don't need that much sleep."

Chloe laughed. "That's definitely a perk. Fancy sparring, then? I don't have a class until two."

Cat stole one last glance at the piano before turning her heels and heading out of the common room.

"You know what? Sparring sounds great."

After leaving Chloe as sweaty and out of breath as one of their kind could be, some of Cat's frustration had dissipated. She was starting to untangle her thoughts.

Too much had happened all at once. The manticore yesterday, the wounded girl in her family home on the hill, Bash. All small concerns that had effectively hidden why she was feeling uncomfortable. The questions and theories that had robbed her of her peace of mind the last few months.

But now, Cat had an inkling.

The entire situation in Oldcrest felt like a major setup. The term had started in October, so how come she, along with a dozen new students, had turned up at the same time in January? She'd have to check with the administration to be certain, but Cat doubted so many people usually started in the second semester.

Then the demon attack. Why make it so very obvious, leaving bodies out in the open? It felt like a warning more than anything else. Or perhaps a test.

But above all, the most important pawn—set up on the chessboard, by whatever player was carefully manipulating the pieces—was her.

Before March, any resident of Oldcrest could invite someone through the gates. Now, the invitation must come from a current resident of Night Hill.

Cat stayed in the dorm by choice, because she hadn't wanted to lock herself away in a huge empty house. Her current address was Number Three, Night Hill, which meant that she could let anyone she wanted inside the territory.

Her family had let her come to Oldcrest for a reason, and Cat now doubted that it was so she could bag a De Villier prince, as she'd initially thought.

If she was right, her family was against Oldcrest. Against Chloe, Levi, everyone else. Cat knew her aunt too well to doubt that she'd call herself queen given half a chance. They could be the ones behind this whole mess. If Drusilla wasn’t the queen, at the very least, there was a considerable chance that they were in league.

Meaning, Cat would soon be given orders she might not like.

As her next lesson wasn't until later that afternoon, Cat walked down the hill at a leisurely pace. She decided to stop and see how the patient was doing, if only to distract herself.

She walked into the guest bedroom, where Greer was changing Maddy’s bandages.

"Hey there. You look better."

Ever so slightly. Cat hadn’t changed very long ago, so she remembered that it took time to heal from the stupidest little things. Maddy's attack had left wounds as serious as any human could get. Even with Alexius's healing powers and Greer's magic, she wouldn’t be walking for weeks.

"Funny. I didn't peg you for a liar." Maddy snorted.

"All right. You look alive. Alive is better."

The girl tried to smile, and gave up after a wince.

"Anything I can get you? Food, a book? Is someone copying your lessons?"

Maddy closed her eyes, as though keeping them open was too much of an effort.

"I'm all good, thank you."

Something changed in the air, all of a sudden. Cat went to the window and looked out at the darkening sky.

Cat went to the girl's bedside table and took her phone. "I'm inputting my number in here. I can't take calls in the Institute, of course, but text if you need anything."

"Everyone offered to help," Maddy replied.

"Well, you're not everyone's guest. You're mine."

She'd learned many lessons she would have liked to scratch from her mind. Hospitality wasn't one of them.

"You're nice. You should let people see that you're nice."

Cat chuckled.

"I'm not even close to nice, Madeleina. But what happened to you was unfair. And what happened to your friends, unacceptable. If there's any way to make things easier for you now, I'll try. As anyone with a soul would."

Maddy's eyes fluttered open. "It's not your soul that I see. It's your heart. Someday, they'll understand how big it is."

Cat watched the girl closely. She'd asked for her name, but she didn't know much else about her. There had been something in her tone, something that made her words sound like certainty.

"I'm tired now. Are we done, Greer?"

"Just about."

"Good. Can you knock me out?"

The witch laughed and handed her a small flask.

"Sweet dreams."

Maddy downed the contents without question, collapsing on her bedding instants later.

Catherine smiled, remembering the patient’s advice. Let people see she was nice?

Yeah, right. That would work out.

She liked the girl, though. She was strong and resilient for a young one. A couple of days later, Cat helped her move back to the dorms. They waved at each other in the corridors over the next few weeks. Said hi, occasionally.

Catherine didn’t know how it happened, exactly, but a lot more people seemed to speak to her these days. Asking for the time, just greeting her randomly, commenting about lessons.

She didn’t mind.

The Return

End of May, Bash's phone buzzed around noon, a text from Chloe waking him up.

"Can you meet me at Levi's? I thought you'd be here."

He chuckled. He'd definitely spent way too much time on the hill.

"I'm at the dorm. Give me five minutes."

He brushed his teeth and took a quick shower before dashing up Night Hill. Chloe was in front of the mansion, her tall frame hidden behind piles of boxes.

"Moving in? Levi will be happy."

She snorted. "He wishes. That's just decorative stuff I ordered a while back for Cosnoc."

Bash whistled. "For Eirikr, you mean?"

As a huntsman, he'd always been fascinated by the elder vampire. Not only because he was the very first of their kind; he'd also created the huntsmen. Training humans and then spelling the strongest among them to become stronger, better, with a witch's brew colored with a drop of his blood. Back in his days, vampires had met no resistance, killing as they pleased. Eirikr had been the only one who wanted to do something about it. If not for him, the history of humanity might have been a lot different.