Free Shadow Walker (Neteru Academy Books) by L.A. Banks

related by blood, just by battle. Uncle Jose was leaning toward her dad, and Sarah strained to listen.
    “The perimeter here and at the school is secure? You’re positive?”
    Sarah watched her father’s expression as a little silver flickered around the edges of his irises before he answered.
    “Would I let my kids go if it wasn’t?” Her father sat back and stared at Uncle Jose hard. “Marlene added extra spiritual lines of defense in both places, awright?”
    Uncle Jose held up his hands in front of his chest and kept his voice low. “If you like it, I love it, hombre.”
    “I
don’t
like it,” her father said, cutting a glance at her mother, “but I don’t have a choice.”
    “We’ve been over this already, Carlos,” her mother said in a quiet but firm tone.
    The back of Sarah’s chair bumped suddenly and broke into her eavesdropping. As she spun around quickly, she saw her brother coming from the buffet with a fresh stack of pancakes and bacon.
    “I was gonna ask you how you were doing, but I see your third eye is trying to pop out of your forehead. Damn, that’s a beaut,” Al said laughing, and then jumped back as she tried to elbow him. He sloshed his milk, but shot a tactical charge at it before it could hit the ground, returning it to his cup. “I got skills, sis, so you’ve gotta do better than that.”
    Sarah was out of her chair with the intention of shoving him hard, but her father snapped his head up from his conversation, eyes beginning to turn silver.
    “I’m not in the mood this morning, Al. Leave your sister alone.”
    It wasn’t a comment, it was a command, and it rolled across the table and paralyzed her brother like a rush of instant thunder.
    “She pushed me!” Al argued, trying to save face.
    “I did not!” Sarah yelled. “He’s always got something smart to say—I can’t stand him!”
    Sarah watched her father take a very slow sip of his coffee, fangs beginning to lengthen.
    “What did I say?” her father asked slowly, dropping each word with perfect diction. His silver gaze was fixed on Al. No one spoke, no one moved, all conversation had ceased. The general had spoken. “I swear to you, if I have to get up…”
    Her mother let out a huff of breath and tossed her napkin onto the table. “All of you kids need to hurry up and finish eating, then get ready for your first day at the Academy, so stop horsing around.”
    Just like a hard, clean rain, the tension was broken, and uncles and aunts began eating again. Damn, Sarah thought. Her mother had averted a potential confrontation that she’d so wanted to see. Would it have been so bad to have Al get vamp-snatched by the scruff of his neck? But, no, her mom always had to save her dumb brother’s hide!
    Al walked away with some of his dignity still intact, and Sarah stuck her tongue out at him as she cleared away her plate.
    “He’s stupid, you know that,” Tami said a few minutes later, as they scraped their dishes and put them in the dishwasher.
    “He’s no different than the hundreds of other kids who are going to see Mount Everest on my forehead this morning,” Sarah said, dejected. “I gotta go get dressed.”
    Once breakfast was behind her, it felt like it had taken forever to get away from everybody and reach her room. Once inside, she did something she rarely did. She locked the door. She didn’t want to deal with Tami bursting in with more sarcastic comments, or Allie’s fretting or Hyacinth’s too cheery view of the world. This morning sucked. Her position at the Academy sucked.
    Sarah snatched the letter off her dresser and reread it, hoping the contents had changed since her last reading.
     
Dear Mr. and Mrs. Rivera,
     
Per our conversation two days ago, this letter is to confirm that your daughter, Sarah Rivera, will be placed in the Blends talent division at the start of the school year. Again, I apologize that it was necessary to test Sarah three separate times. We certainly never expected