“Holy shit, Ros. Why aren’t you dead?”
“Because a really hot mage showed up, ripped out the demon’s heart, and then healed me. And then I let the mage get away.”
Tammi stared at her, open-mouthed. “Jesus, Rosalind.” She pulled her hair off her face. “Look on the bright side. At least you made it out alive. And it can’t be that terrible to get saved by a hot guy.”
Rosalind flinched. “I don’t think the Brotherhood will be so impressed with those things.”
Tammi frowned. “Don’t you think we should be making peace with the demons, or at least the mages? I’m just a little wary of the Brotherhood, since they don’t do trials and all…”
Rosalind didn’t need to hear this lecture right now. When demons were trying to feast on your guts, you didn’t always have the luxury of putting them on trial. “Did the mages give us a chance to make peace when they murdered a hundred kids in Boston? Did that redcap ask for peace when he ate the two cashiers in Market Basket? The vamps have killed two people on campus in the past month. Tonight, this guy was going to slaughter ten times that.”
“I guess so…” Tammi said doubtfully.
Rosalind could feel the blood rushing to her head. “The Brotherhood have been protecting humans from dark magic since the dawn of civilization. Without Hunters, demons would enslave us all. And the demons aren’t going to wait around for us to put everyone on trial while they rape and eat their way through Boston’s citizens. Demons don’t respect weakness. We have to fight back.”
Tammi sat on the edge of her bed, her brow furrowed. “Fine. But why you? Why can’t you have a normal job? You’re a computer science major. You have useful skills.”
Rosalind shook her head. “Because the world needs people like me. Anyway, programming doesn’t exactly light my world on fire. I’m not meant for a nine-to-five job. But since I’m about to get fired tonight, coding is probably back in the cards for me.”
Tammi raised her brow. “Killing is the only thing that would make you happy? That’s messed up.”
“I still haven’t killed anything. That’s why I’m in trouble. And it’s not that I want to kill anything. I just like being part of something important. And I like the sense of adventure. If I could choose any job in the world, I’d join Darwin’s Beagle voyage. But until someone invents time travel and Victorian gender equality, I’ll have to stick with the Brotherhood.”
Rosalind’s phone beeped again, and she scrambled to yank it out. It was Josiah again, demanding to know where she was. “Shit. I really need to go.”
“If you get fired, come find me. There’s a streak night planned. We’ll get hammered and watch all the naked guys running around campus. You’ll forget all about the redcap.”
“I’ll text you!” Rosalind grabbed her umbrella and rushed out the door, leaving her coat behind. There was no point wearing a low-cut top if you were going to put a coat over it.
And she’d need all the resources she could muster to face Josiah.
Chapter 3
With an umbrella in hand, Rosalind hurried through one of Harvard Yard’s brick gates. She kept her eyes locked on the Brotherhood’s towering command center: the Victorian brick building known as the Chambers.
It had once been a performance and lecture hall. Since the mage attacks in Boston, the Brotherhood had taken it over, refurbishing the interior at an astounding speed. It had been refitted with a combination of cutting-edge technology and old world grandeur, and it now acted as the Brotherhood’s Massachusetts headquarters.
As she walked up the stone steps to a set of glass doors, she tried to pull her thoughts together. She’d need to project competence if she wanted to convince Josiah she was valuable to the Brotherhood.
She paused next to the small scanner by the door, lining up her iris with the blue circle in the retina scanner. When she heard the beep, she swiped her ID card, and the glass door clicked open. The Brotherhood were a little paranoid with their security measures, but you had to be vigilant when fighting blood-drinking demons.
Through the glass doors, she nodded at Martha, the rosy-cheeked security guard behind the desk, and hurried on to the central corridor. After scanning her retina a second time, she pulled open an oak door, its surface carved with Latin phrases.
The sight of the Great Hall always took her breath away. It was the most stunning part of the building—a cavernous, cathedral-like space modeled after a Roman amphitheater, with semicircular rows of benches surrounding a round stage. She often envisioned herself lecturing beneath its enormous stone dome about the history of witchcraft, instilling students with a sense of reverence for the Sanguine Brotherhood’s history.