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  “That would be something, all right.” I shrugged. The possibility of finding my birth father was slim. Mom had told me that he’d lived in another country and had only visited San Diego that one time when she’d gotten pregnant. That was all I knew about him. Mom had promised to reveal all when I turned eighteen, but she’d never had the chance.

  We arrived at the classroom and took our seats. It was a seminar, and there were only twenty students in the class. Our teacher was a post-doc who hadn’t secured a tenured position yet but was passionate about teaching. I switched my phone to silent and took out my materials. The next two hours flew by quickly, and the round table discussion about The Woman Warrior didn’t disappoint.

  “Are you going to lunch?” Joshua asked me when class was over.

  “Um…yeah.” Shoot. I was awful at this. I didn’t know how to handle people being nice to me. If they were mean to me or treated me like crap, yeah, that was easy. I’d fight. But kindness? Sweetness? It’d been so long since I’d experienced any of that. Five years in fact. “Do you want to eat lunch together?” I asked hesitantly.

  “That would be great.” Joshua smiled, and his cheeks flushed a slight pinkish color.

  “Okay.” Now I was blushing too, but mainly because I felt guilty. I didn’t deserve a nice guy like Joshua, especially since he was so much more attracted to me than I was to him. But I didn’t want to hurt his feelings by pushing him away, either. I was horrible at relationships. It was easier to be by myself.

  We packed up our things and walked out of the classroom. I took my phone out and turned the notifications back on. There were three new messages waiting. I tapped the button, my eyes glued to the screen.

  One of the messages was from Mr. Sherwood at Barktacular, and I ignored it. Another was from Mario, my editor at the school newspaper. But the third was from Natalie Xander!

  Congratulations, she texted. You’ve passed the background check. Can you be here at 5 p.m. tonight?

  Yes, I texted back. Absolutely.

  “I think there’s a baked potato bar,” said Joshua.

  “What?” I glanced up from my phone.

  “At lunch.” Joshua stared at my lips. “If I’m remembering the menu right, today there’s supposed to be a baked potato bar. That’s probably why they served chili last night as the soup option. They always use the leftovers for baked potatoes.”

  “Oh.” I put my phone in my backpack. “Cool. Maybe there will be bacon, too.” I wished I hadn’t agreed to eating lunch with Joshua. Otherwise, I could have brought a tray of food up to my room. There were loads of things I needed to do before my meeting at Slayer Academy tonight, like turn in my article about last night’s attack to The Triton, and finish off some homework. If I could go for a run, that would be good, too, for working off nervous energy. “I just remembered I have a deadline for The Triton,” I said as we walked across campus to the dining hall. “I won’t have long for lunch.”

  “That’s okay.” Joshua knit his eyebrows together. “I know you’re really busy. How many hours do you work each week at Barktacular?”

  “Twenty. That’s the maximum allowed for my work-study grant. But I spend another ten at The Triton.”

  “Plus, you take a full course load, too. Right?”

  I nodded. “Do you have a part-time job?”

  Joshua shook his head. “My parents want me to be able to fully concentrate on my schoolwork.”

  “That makes sense.” It must have been nice to be rich and well-taken care of. I tried not to roll my eyes.

  We were at the dining hall now, and Joshua once again opened the door for me, like I was incapable of doing it myself. “Have you always liked dogs?” Joshua asked.

  I scanned the line. It didn’t look too long yet. The scent of bacon drifted over to me from the baked potato bar. “I never had pets growing up,” I said, grabbing a tray. “Except for a terrarium of stick bugs.”

  “Stick bugs?”

  “From South America. There were four of them and all I had to do was spray them with water each day and give them fresh leaves to munch on. It was the perfect pet for the daughter of a single mom.” I frowned. “Until it wasn’t.”

  “What happened?” Joshua put a carton of milk on his tray and a small bowl of grapes.

  I passed on the grapes since I was allergic and chose a pre-made garden salad. “After six months, the stick bugs had babies. Hundreds of them. My mom pretty much freaked out and insisted we flush them down the toilet.”

  “Couldn’t you have released them into your backyard?”

  “Release a non-native species into the environment?” I shot Joshua a look. “No way.”

  “Oh.” Joshua winced. “Good point.”

  Using tongs, I picked up a foil-wrapped baked potato and set it on my tray. I peeled back the aluminum and was pleased to discover that the spud was already sliced open. That made loading it with bacon, sour cream, cheese, and chives easy. I’d need to run six miles this afternoon to work off the calories, but it would be worth it. “I’m going to get some Diet Coke and I’ll meet you at a table,” I said.

  “See you soon.” Joshua nodded.

  A few minutes later, we sat by a sunny window. “Whoa!” I pointed through the glass. “Look at those birds.”

  A small contingent of seagulls ripped an abandoned hamburger to shreds on an outside picnic table. Up in a neighboring oak tree, three crows looked down at them and squawked. One of the crows swooped down to get in on the fast food action, and the birds battled with beaks and claws.

  “I can’t stand people who don’t clean up after themselves,” said Joshua.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Me, neither.”

  “So you never had any pets besides stick bugs growing up, but now you work at a dog daycare.” Joshua stirred sour cream into his baked potato. “How did that happen?”

  “The work-study website had a message board of job openings, and Barktacular seemed better than working at the dining hall or delivering messages.” I shrugged. “Plus, the hours are flexible. Mr. Sherwood, the owner, is really nice.”

  I checked my phone to see what time it was and found another message from Natalie. Great, she texted. See you tonight. Bring an overnight bag with you and enough clothes for two days.

  Okay, I texted back. I tried to remember my Barktacular schedule. I was pretty sure I was supposed to come into work tomorrow.

  “Sorry,” I told Joshua. “My boss texted me. I need to answer this.”

  I tapped on the unopened message from Mr. Sherwood. Can I swap your Saturday shift for Monday? he texted. I’ll be doing inventory tomorrow anyway, so I’ll be there for the dogs.

  Sure, I answered. That would be perfect.

  Awesome. Talk about good luck. Everything about today was going my way. I turned my phone over face down on the table.

  Joshua slid his hand past his plate and reached for mine. He squeezed my fingertips and I jerked, making him frown. “Do you want to go out tomorrow night?” he asked. “There’s a new romcom playing at La Jolla Village.”

  “Sorry.” My palm sweated and I hoped Joshua didn’t notice. “I already have plans.” I pulled my hand away and picked up my tray. “Speaking of which, I really need to write my article for The Triton. I’ve got a 2 p.m. deadline.”

  “Oh, okay.” Joshua’s face fell. “I understand.”

  “See you next week? In class on Monday?”

  “Yeah.” Joshua smiled. “See you then. Like I said before, Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays are the best days of the week.”

  “Uh-huh.” A faint smile crossed my face before I crumpled up the foil from my baked potato and tossed it in the trash.

  Chapter 10

  Ubers creeped me out. So did Lyfts. I was an equal opportunity scaredy-cat when it came to getting into unknown cars with strangers. Funny how being whisked away from the site of your mother’s murder in a social worker’s Jetta will do that to you. Over the years I’d gotten to know Janet, my case manager, and le
arned that instead of being the Wicked Witch of the West like I’d originally thought, she was an overworked middle-aged woman who meant well but had limited resources to offer me. But I still didn’t like riding in cars with strangers.

  The Uber driver who took me up Mt. Soledad Road was from Northern Africa and spoke in a thick accent. He seemed friendly enough, but I didn’t like how he talked on his phone while driving. I didn’t have my license yet, but I was pretty sure that was against the law. I asked him to drop me off at the top of Mt. Soledad, in front of Esma’s house—the one with the giant cat. I figured there was no reason for a stranger to know the true location of Slayer Academy. As soon as he drove away, I walked down the sidewalk to the Xander residence and stood in front of the gate. When nothing happened right away, I pushed the intercom button.

  “Hello?” asked a gravelly voice that sounded familiar.

  “Hi. This is Kate Canus. Natalie is expecting me.”

  “Why, hello, Kate Canus from Carlsbad,” said the box. “We’ve definitely been expecting you.” The gate swung open.

  Was that… Could it be? I could have sworn I’d just heard ‘Fred Head’ from the radio. Fred was on every weekday morning at 9 a.m. and his show joked about the paranormal. Listeners phoned in with supposed vampire, werewolf, and sasquatch sightings. So far, nobody had ever claimed to spot a canine shifter. At least, not while I was listening.

  I walked up the driveway, past the gurgling fountain, and toward the house. My backpack weighed me down. Since I didn’t own a suitcase, I’d stuffed everything I could into my book bag, including leftover rolls from lunch in case I got hungry later.

  The front door swung open and a burly man smiled. He had a neatly trimmed beard and a full head of hair, streaked with gray at the temples. “The new recruit,” he boomed in a voice that sounded exactly like Fred. He held out his hand to shake. “Nice to meet you. I’m Al Xander, and I have nothing to do with slaying whatsoever.”

  As soon as Al had said that, I didn’t believe him. It reminded me of when Janet would take me to a new foster placement and say, “Trust me. This next house will be great.”

  “Do you have any bags I can help you with in your car?” Al looked past my shoulder. “Did you park on the curb? We have a place in the driveway that would be safer.”

  “I took an Uber.” I stood up straighter, fighting my natural tendency to hunch when wearing my backpack. “And I don’t have a suitcase. Just this.”

  “Traveling light already.” Al nodded with approval. “Good for you. You can leave your bag at the foot of the stairs and head into the backyard to join the others. Van’s barbecuing. It’s his night to cook.” He waved for me to follow him.

  Before I abandoned my backpack, I took out my phone and stuck it in the waistband of my shorts. The only drawback of my athletic wardrobe was that I never had pockets. I could feel the phone stick against my skin, close to my cotton bikinis, but it didn’t slide too far out of place.

  Al led me through the kitchen with its enormous rectangular table, then through glass doors that opened into the backyard. There was a black-bottomed pool with a jacuzzi lit by torches like a luau. The backyard’s most spectacular feature was the view. I could see all of La Jolla from here. I stopped a moment to take it in and then looked over at the barbecue.

  The aroma of grilled meat made my mouth water. I smelled chicken, burgers, and hot dogs. There was another fragrance, too, that I couldn’t quite place. It was similar to roasted carrots. Veggie burgers, maybe? Van manned the barbecue wearing an apron with a picture of a speared T-bone that read, ‘How do you like your stake?’

  Natalie sat in a patio chair with plump cushions, holding a long-necked bottle of beer. She talked to a guy in his early twenties that I didn’t recognize. In fact, most of the people there were new to me. I saw Cassandra, the girl with the braids, and Gretchen, the student who couldn’t keep up, as well as Kellogg, Max, and Leah from the running group, but there were at least a dozen people there.

  “Look who’s here.” Al patted me on the back and I tensed. “Kate Canus from Carlsbad.”

  Van flipped a burger and smiled at me. “Glad you could make it.”

  “Welcome, Kate. Take a seat,” said Natalie. She nodded to the student next to her, and the guy jumped up, relinquishing his chair.

  “Thanks.” I told myself not to be nervous, but that didn’t stop my pulse from racing. I hated being the center of attention. Everyone stared at me like I was a frog they were about to dissect. And they didn’t know what I truly was. How would the slayers treat me if they knew I was a shifter?

  “Would you like something to drink?” Al asked. “Soda? Water? The blood of your enemies?”

  “What?” I was right about to sit down next to Natalie, and I paused, mid-squat, butt hanging in the air, totally frozen.

  “He’s kidding.” Natalie chuckled. “Al thinks he’s hilarious.”

  “If that’s the only vampire joke we endure tonight, consider yourself lucky. My dad is terrible at them, though. Vampires don’t even have any blood.” Cassandra dipped a corn chip into a bowl of salsa in the center of the table.

  “We’re glad you could come.” Natalie rocked back in her chair, and the hinges squeaked. “Think of this weekend as your chance to get to know us as we get to know you. If, at the end of the weekend, we all agree that this is a good fit, then we’ll talk further.”

  I swallowed, my throat suddenly parched. “I thought you said I already had a spot at Slayer Academy.”

  “You have an invitation to be a prospective student this weekend,” said Natalie. “What comes after this depends on how the next two days work out.”

  “I did your background check.” Cassandra loaded more chips onto her appetizer plate. “Nine foster homes in three years. Wow.”

  “My caseworker told me those files were sealed.” I balled and then unclenched my fists. I knew Janet was a liar, but they were always white lies. “These new foster parents are sweet,” or “There’s still hope that we’ll find an unknown family member to accept custody.” I didn’t think she would hand over my personal records to a stranger.

  “Of course your files are sealed.” Cassandra smirked. “But that didn’t stop me. I’ve hacked into stronger firewalls than Child Protective Services before. This one time I—”

  “Okay, Cassandra.” Natalie rapped her knuckle on her armrest. “That’s enough.”

  Cassandra looked smug. “You don’t have any close relatives—or any relatives at all. You earned a 3.5 in high school despite difficult circumstances, and you were ranked eighteenth in all of California for running the 10K.”

  “Um… Yeah, that’s me.” My thighs stuck together, and I scooted back in my chair so they would unstick.

  “You dated one guy in high school for two months, but that was before your mom was slain,” Cassandra continued.

  “Murdered,” I said, interrupting. “My mother was murdered by a vampire. Then Van slayed her.”

  “Because there was no other choice.” Natalie’s expression was neutral, and she watched me closely.

  “Yes, that’s what I meant.” My phone slipped down my waistband and wedged into my underwear. I fished it out without anyone noticing and placed it on the seat next to me.

  “This is how Slayer Academy works.” Natalie tapped her foot on the pavement. “Training lasts two years. The first-year students study history, stalking, intro to deadly weapons, and self-defense. The second-years cover vampire lore, comparative religion, advanced deadly weapons, and the art of the cover up.”

  “That sounds fascinating.” I squeezed my hands together. How would I fit Slayer Academy courses into my already packed schedule at UCSD? I couldn’t risk my grades dropping or I’d lose my scholarship.

  “But don’t worry,” said Cassandra, as if sensing my apprehension. “You can still attend UCSD, like me. I’m a sophomore taking fifteen units a quarter.”

  Natalie tossed her long braid behind her back. “Over breaks and
summer vacation, Slayer Academy students devote every waking hour to their studies,” she said. “During the school year, we only expect a forty-hour-per-week commitment.”

  “Forty hours a week?” I wrinkled my forehead. “That’s full-time, then?”

  “Is that a problem?” Natalie stared at me intently.

  I scratched behind my ear. “No, I’m not afraid of hard work—and I’m dedicated. It’s just that part of my financial aid package involves work-study. In order to pay my tuition I need to—”

  “Don’t worry about finances,” interrupted Natalie. “Helsing Incorporated will handle all of that for you. You’ll live here for free and earn a stipend while you study. If your scholarship for tuition ever falls through, we’ll cover that too.”

  “Wow,” I said. “UCSD is expensive.” The only good thing about being orphaned was that the Free Application for Federal Student Aid form I filled out when applying to college garnered me massive student aid packages everywhere I applied. Schools would take one look at my FAFSA and throw money at me.

  “Helsing Inc. is loaded.” Cassandra grinned. “You’ll learn more about it in history class, but the gist is, Abraham Van Helsing bought up estates and farmland throughout Europe in the 1800s when there was a massive outbreak of vampiritis.”

  Natalie nodded her head. “Continued land wealth makes all of this possible. If, for whatever reason, things don’t work out for you here at the Academy, we’ll make sure that you can ease back into your old life at Tioga Hall and a part-time job. Maybe not at Barktacular, but somewhere.”

  “Yeah.” I nodded. “Okay.” But I didn’t really believe her because it sounded too good to be true. I was used to being screwed over, not well-taken care of, especially by people who pretended to have my best interests at heart.

  “Burgers are ready.” Van waved a metal spatula in the air. “Come and get it.”

  “The plates are in the kitchen, people,” said Al. “Help yourselves.”

  My mouth watered as the aroma of grilled meat filled the air. I hadn’t been to a barbecue since high school when one of the girls from my cross-country team had a huge sweet-sixteen birthday party in her backyard with a swimming pool, a DJ, and everything a teenager could dream of. I’d snuck out of my foster home to attend and had been punished severely when I’d come back that night. The memory made me shudder.