Free Isle of Night by Verónica Wolff Page A

what we call Initiate. Your Proctors and teachers will inform you of any details I’ve withheld.”
    He narrowed his eyes. I couldn’t tell where he was looking, and the effect was that he looked at all of us simultaneously. “And remember. You will show your dormitory Proctors and all Initiates respect. Never forget, you are merely Acari.”
    The snow drifted down, and it cast its own shroud of silence over the crowd.
    The headmaster’s voice pierced the calm with one final proclamation. “Stand warned, lovelies. Initiates are encouraged to teach you cruelty. And you should thank them for it. For to understand cruelty is to know strength.”
    And then Headmaster Claude Fournier simply disappeared.

CHAPTER NINE

    T he crowd was dispersing, splitting into smaller groups and piling into a fleet of monstrous SUVs. I gave a last backward glance to the fortress on the hill. What was that place? Was it where all the vampires lived? Did it house stuff like dungeons and underground catacombs and imperiled virgins?
    Either way, I was relieved it wasn’t going to be my new dorm. The thing looked haunted. And those standing stones had given me the creeps, too. Archaeologists may not have known what megalithic stones had been used for, but it sure seemed to me that I’d just seen my first human sacrifice.
    I should’ve listened to my doubts and not joined him on that damned plane, but Ronan had made me feel safe, with those stupid green eyes and that stupid husky voice.
    I caught up with him. “Don’t tell me you’re a vampire, too.”
    I felt that heavy, green-eyed gaze on me. “Do I look like a vampire?”
    â€œHow the hell should I know?” Bracing myself, I forced my eyes to him. “I don’t understand why I’m here. Why would you bring people to this place? I knew I should’ve trusted my instincts, but no. All you had to do was look at me, and—” I froze, understanding coming like the flash of a bulb in my head. I glared accusingly. “You used some sort of vampire mojo to get me on that airplane.”
    He opened his mouth to speak, but snapped it shut.
    Aha. I was onto something. But before I could press him, he grabbed my arm, leading us toward a super-oversized version of a Ford Excursion. It reminded me of those ghastly stretch Hummers that kids rented for dances.
    I stopped in my tracks. By this time I was panicked and scared and freaked and angry, feeling capable of either sarcasm or hysteria. I chose the former. “Wow, now that’s a real date getter. It’s like vampire prom night.”
    â€œAnnelise.” Ronan stopped walking. “You must never mistake human for Vampire, nor should you even joke about it.”
    â€œIn the same way you’re not supposed to joke in line for airport security?” I felt his exasperation and stared him down. “Well, how should I know, Ronan? I’d never seen a vampire before today, so I’m not exactly an expert. So, what, did you fail your vamp final exam? Is that why you’re not one . . . ov zee undead ?”
    I’d used my best Hollywood Dracula voice, but Ronan did not seem amused.
    Leaning close, he gave my arm a little shake. “I told you, no jokes . I’m what’s called a Tracer. We find, track, and retrieve girls like you .” He’d said that last bit as though it left a foul taste in his mouth. I tried to pull my arm away, but he held firm. “I am not, nor have I ever wished to be, Vampire.” He gave me a squeeze before letting go. “Heed me, Annelise. There is no failing where vampires are concerned. Only dying.”
    His tone of voice chilled me. I rubbed my arm, still throbbing where he’d gripped me, and wondered about the Tracer thing. How elaborate did this whole scene get? “What did you get me into?”
    â€œWhat did I get you into?”
    â€œYes.” I was sure he’d used some sort of