“You have a funny look on your face,” Chloe said.

“I do not.” I jerked my errant thoughts away from Quinn. “This is just my face.”

“Please, you never turn that color. You’re blushing, Hunter Wild.”

“Am not.” Quinn wasn’t my type anyway. Not that I knew what my type was. Still. I was sure pretty boys who knew they were pretty weren’t it.

I was spared further prodding and poking when the lights suddenly went out.

The emergency blue floor light by the door and under the window blinked on. Spencer and I jumped to our feet. The windows locked themselves automatically. Iron bars lowered and clanged shut.

“No! Not now!” Chloe exclaimed, blowing harder on her toes. “They’re going to smear.”

“Isn’t it too early for a drill?” I frowned, trying to see out to the pond and the fields leading to the forest all around us. It was dark enough that only the glimmer of water showed and the half-moon over the main house where Headmistress Bellwood lived. “I mean, half the students aren’t even here yet.”

“Chloe’s the one who’s supposed to know this stuff,” Spencer said pointedly.

“I haven’t had time! I just got here!” She swung her feet to the floor and balanced on her heels, wriggling her toes. Usually she hacked into the schedules and found out when the drills were happening so we’d have some warning. She was disgruntled, scowling fiercely. “This sucks.”

“Maybe it’s not a drill?” Spencer asked. “Maybe this one’s real?”

“It’s totally a drill. And I’m registering a complaint,” Chloe grumbled, slinging her pack over her shoulder. She didn’t go anywhere without her laptop or some kind of high-tech device. “I’m still on summer vacation, damn it. This is so unfair.”

“Glad I didn’t change out of these,” I told her, pulling a flashlight out of one of my cargo pants’ many pockets.

“If you spout some ‘be prepared’ school motto shit, I am so going to kick you.”

“Like you’d risk your nail polish,” I said with a snort, pushing the door open. “Let’s just go.”

Chapter 2

Hunter

There were students in the hallway, grumbling as they tried the front door.

“Locked.” Jason sighed, turning to face us. He’d had a crush on Spencer for two years but Spencer had a crush on Francesca. Or had, anyway, but I seriously doubted he’d switch teams entirely.

“Everything’s locked,” Jason said. He was wearing flannel pajama bottoms and a white T-shirt. Chloe nearly purred at him even though it was a lost cause.

“Blue light over here,” someone called out from the other side of the common room.

Spencer groaned. “So it’s a speed drill?”

“Looks like,” I agreed.

We followed the rest of the students heading down the hall to the basement door. Good thing it wasn’t a stealth test, since it sounded like a herd of elephants thundering down the stairs.

“I hate this hole,” Chloe said as we reached the damp basement. She shook her phone. “Nothing ever works down here.”

“I think that’s the point.”

“Well, it’s stupid. This whole school’s stupid.”

Spencer and I just rolled our eyes at each other. Being deprived of Internet access always set Chloe into a snit. It was her forte, after all, and she hated not coming in first.

The trapdoor leading into the secret tunnel was already open. There were sounds of fighting up ahead and very little light. The objective was to get through the tunnel, up a ladder, and onto the lawn. No one elbowed or tripped each other; it was too early in the year. Come midterms and exams there’d be insurrections and mutinies down here.

I heard a squeak from behind us and whirled toward the sound, reaching for the stake at my belt. There was always a stake at my belt. Grandpa never asked me the usual questions growing up like, “Did you brush your teeth?” and “Have you eaten any vegetables today?” It was always, “Got your stake?”

But I wasn’t dealing with a vampire or a training dummy. Just a ninth-grade student who was pressed against the wall, crying. She looked about thirteen and there was blood on her nose.

“Hunter, are you coming or what?” Spencer asked.

“I’ll catch up,” I waved them ahead and ducked under one of the rigged dummies that swung from the ceiling, shrieking. The girl cried harder, trembling.

“Hey, it’s okay,” I said as she stared at me. “I’m Hunter. What’s your name?”

“L-Lia,” she stuttered. Her glasses were foggy from the combination of tears and damp underground air.

“Is this your first day?”

She nodded mutely.

“Well, don’t worry, Lia, it gets better. Where’s your floor monitor?” I asked her. She was way too young to be dealing with this. I couldn’t believe her floor monitor hadn’t bothered to keep an eye on her. When I found out who she was, I was so going to give her an earful.

“I don’t know.” Her stake was lying useless at her feet. “I want to go home.”

“I know. Let’s just get out of here first, okay?”

“Okay.” She pushed away from the wall and then jumped a foot in the air when a bloodcurdling shriek ululated down the hall, followed by eerie hissing.

“Never mind that,” I told her. “They add all the sound effects to train you not to get distracted. You read about it in the handbook, right?”