Sloane's room was pink and well appointed. She looked at Marie and said, "Get rid of everything but the bed, desk and the computer. I'm going to take a shower, then I'll eat. I want to know what is expected of me before I go to bed tonight."
The woman nodded and left the room.
Sloane went through the closet and drawers, found jeans, a t-shirt, and a pair of socks that looked as if they would fit, then she locked herself in the bathroom. She stayed in the shower for a long time, thinking and trying not to see her parents being torn apart by vampires, over and over again.
She believed Miles when he said she would be able to get revenge for their deaths, so she decided to focus on that and nothing else. But she had to wonder why he had a room ready for her when her parents had just been murdered. She also wondered why she just sat on the floor in a burning building and didn't try to get out. Shock? Maybe. But she also knew it was more than that. She just didn't care if she died. The shampoo smelled like grass and grapefruit. She liked it.
After she was dry and dressed, she went back into her room where a grilled cheese sandwich and a bowl of tomato soup were waiting for her. Devin was also there.
"I'm Devin," he said.
"I know."
Devin was about six five and solid muscle. He had blond hair that looked windblown, green eyes and an easy smile.
"We start training tomorrow," he said.
"Will you be teaching me how to fight?"
"Yes."
"Okay," she said, holding out her hand. "I'll follow your instructions."
"Deal," he said. "I'm not going to go easy on you just because you're young and a girl."
"Of course not," she said.
"You will know pain."
"I get it."
"Are you sure?"
"No," she said truthfully.
"Okay," he said, grinning at her. "You need some muscle mass, so you'll be working out each day, targeting a different part of your body. You need to be strong, get your core in shape. You need to be fast."
"I want to be those things."
"I know you do. I can feel it."
"Really?" she asked, taking a bite out of the sandwich.
"Yes."
"I want revenge."
"You'll get it."
"Have you taught others?"
"Not like you. You're young, female and skinny."
"I am not skinny," she said, frowning at him.
"Never lie to yourself. That's important."
"Fine. I'm thin," she said, and stuck her tongue out at him.
"These are for you," he said, handing her one pound weights. "Do this," he continued. Sets of ten, three times a day."
"Have you killed anyone?"
"Yes."
"How many?"
"A lot. Why?"
"Just making sure you know what you're doing," she said.
Devin laughed out loud. "Would you like references?"
"Do you have any?"
He laughed again. "I think I like you."
"You're too old for me," she said, "and besides someday I might have to kill you, so don't like me too much."
"Why would you have to kill me?"
"Practice."
"I'll watch my back."
"What time tomorrow morning and where?"
"Eight sharp, in the gym. Marie will take you there. Don't eat breakfast."
"Got it."
"Until then," he said, holding out his fist.
"Until then," she said, bumping his fist with hers.
The soup was cold and she was hungry so she picked up the bowl and drank it.
"No, no, no," said Marie, taking the bowl out of her hands. "You must have perfect manners, so you'll fit in anywhere. Sit up straight. Use your spoon."
"I always use my spoon. Okay, except for doing that."
"After your workout with Devin, you will eat, then it will be time for in house school. Then you will eat again and have lessons in walking, languages and how to dress."
"All that just to kill two vampires?"
"Miles has other things in mind for you as well."
"Is he going to make me his personal hit person?" she asked.
"Yes. He is."
"Is there any cake?"
***
Devin was right. There was pain, as well as black and blue marks. A lot of them. He was gentle, or he would have broken me in half. He said I was fast for my weight and age. I did sit ups, pull ups, jumped rope, lifted weights and more. I fell asleep on my breakfast.
The school teacher was human and spent four hours telling me things. A designer came in and measured me. She showed me swatches, which are tiny bits of fabric, and told me to pick out what I liked. I told her I didn't like swatches and just wanted to wear what I had on. She old me that if I didn't choose, she would do it for me, so I picked out something blue, black and pale yellow. She left and the language teacher entered the room.
Mr. Holiday, was a tiny man, so nervous that I could have beaten him up and stolen his lunch money. He had brown hair, brown eyes and he was wearing a brown sweater. He had a nice voice, though, and he was very serious about the shape of my vowels, squeezing my face until it hurt. I was going to learn French, Italian and Spanish. I though he was insane, since I wasn't all that good at English, but he said that Miles told him that if I didn't speak those languages fluently, his whole family would suddenly disappear. I told him not to worry. I wouldn't let that happen. He didn't seem to believe me, so we started with French. It was immediately clear to both of us, that this would be an uphill battle.
Later that evening, I was brought into the dining room for dinner. The table was set for two. Miles sat at the head of the table and I sat at his left.
"How was your first day?" he asked, delicately placing a lettuce leaf into his mouth.
"Fine."
"Sloane. You are still in the classroom. I'm going to teach you how to have flawless conversations. When I ask you how your fist day was, you will tell me some of the things you did, smile, take a bit of food, then tell me something else."
"Really?"
"Yes. Really? We will begin again. How was your fist day?"
Sloane smiled at him, her eyes flat and cold, as she dabbed at her mouth with the corner of her linen napkin and said, "I rather liked it. Being in the gym with Devin showed me how much I have to learn. I looked at fabric and had a very nice lunch. Mr. Holiday is teaching me several languages, which I hope to learn as quickly as possible. How was your day?"
He stared at her.
"I have seen TV programs after all," she sighed. "I'm not stupid."
"Well done, for a first try."
"Why were my parents killed and who are you?"
Miles put down his knife and fork and picked up his wine glass. "You're going to have to learn all about wine, by the way. I'll take you to some vineyards, so you will know everything there is to know. But that can wait for a bit. I don't want you to be overwhelmed with too much too fast. As to your questions, your parents were powerful people."
"In what way?"
"In the ways of magick."
"Magick? I don't understand."
"You will. Eventually."
"Who are you, and why do you think I'll do anything you tell me to do?"
"You're a lot like your mother," he smiled, sadly. "She would have said the same thing."
"How do you know my mom?"
"You must be tired," he said, placing his napkin next to his plate.
"You haven't told me anything helpful."
"I'm sure it seems that way to you."
"It doesn't seem that way, it is that way and I don't even read books that drag things out. So tell me, or I'm leaving. Who are you, and how do you know my mother? And how long before I can kill the men who murdered my parents?"
"Years?"
"Years?"
"They are vampires, Sloane. They aren't going anywhere."
"I don't want to wait years. The vampires who killed them don't deserve years, when my parents have none."
"I understand how you feel, but you won't be..."
"Will you help me kill them, or not?"
"I will. But you won't need my help, when it's time."
"I'm not waiting for time. I'll do it without you, if you're afraid."
"You'll die, if you go after them before you're ready. Or worse."
"Worse?"
"They'll make you one of them."
""I don't have to listen to you, you know. I'm a...free...person."
"No one is free, Sloane."
"What could my parents have done, that was worth killing them for?"
"Everything. Now finish your dinner and let's discuss the war in Ukraine."
"Where's Ukraine?"
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