Vampire Academy: New Generations

Chapter 7

A couple weeks passed after that, and I soon forgot about the Moroi/Dhampir mix thing as life at the Academy wrapped around me. The shock of our return had worn off a little, and we began to fall into a semi-comfortable routine. My days revolved around church, lunch with Eden, and whatever sort of social life I could scrape together outside of that. Denied any real free time, I didn't have too hard a time staying out of the spotlight, although I did manage to steal a little attention here and there. I couldn't help it. I liked groups and making smartass comments in class.

Eden's new, incognito role attracted attention simply because it was so different than before we'd left, back when she'd been so active with the Royals. Most people soon let that go, accepting that the Tarus princess was fading off the social radar and content to run with Natasha and her group. Natasha's crazy gossiping still made me want to beat my head against a wall sometimes, but she was really nice—nicer than almost any of the other royals—and I enjoyed hanging around her, most of the time. Though I still hadn't let go of my theory that Natasha may be like me, I didn't ask her about it. After all, she was the one who was helping Eden right now. And I couldn't take that away. On the other hand, just as Kirova had warned, I was indeed training and working out all the time. But as more time passed, my body stopped hating me. My muscles grew tougher, and my stamina increased.

Unfortunately, I still got my ass kicked in practice but not quite as badly as I used to, which was something. The biggest toll now seemed to be on my skin. Being outside in the cold so much was chapping my face, and only Eden's constant supply of skin-care lotions kept my face from peeling off. She couldn't do much for the blisters on my hands and feet though. A routine also developed with Vegas and I. Vegas didn't hang out much with the other guardians, though it was clear they all respected him... kind of. I think it was because he was a lot younger than most of them and so they still saw him as a newbie. But the more I worked with him, the more I respected him too, though I didn't really understand his training methods. They didn't seem very badass. We always started by stretching in the gym, and lately he'd been sending me outside to run, braving the increasingly cold Montana autumn.

Three weeks after my return to the Academy, I walked into the gym before school one day and found him sprawled on a mat, reading a Spiderman comic book. Someone had brought in a portable CD player, and while that cheered me up at first, the song coming from it did not: "Radio killed the Video Star" by The Buggles. It was embarrassing to know the title, but I liked to know stuff. "Whoa, Vegas," I said, tossing my bag on the floor. "Come on, man. What is this old-timey stuff?" He crossed his legs over and re-positioned himself from where he was laying on a mat. "Oh, Evie. What does it matter to you? I'm the one who's going to be listening to it. You'll be outside running. 12 today." He sad as I made a face. He didn't respond though. Probably because I didn't complain.

I set my foot up on one of the bars and stretched my hamstrings. All things considered, Vegas had a good-natured tolerance for my snarkiness, commentary and weirdness. So long as I didn't slack in my training, he didn't mind me. "Hey," I asked, moving on to the next set of stretches, "what's with all the running, anyway? I mean, I realize the importance of stamina and all that, but shouldn't I be moving on to something with a little hitting? They're still killing me in group practice." He didn't look up at me but answered my question with a retort. "Maybe you should hit harder," I sighed. "I'm serious." I said as he shrugged. "Hard to tell the difference." He shot back. I crossed my arms and looked down at him. When he noticed me, he rolled his eyes, setting the book down but not moving from his sprawled out position.

"Okay. Storytime: Suppose you manage to kidnap her again and take her off to the mall. While you're there, a Strigoi comes at you. What do you do?" He asked. He seemed really interested to know whether whatever he'd taught me had stuck. So naturally I had to be sarcastic. "Depends on what store we're in." He looked at me, slightly annoyed. "Fine. I'll stab him with a silver stake." Vegas sat up now, crossing his long legs in one fluid motion. I still couldn't figure out how someone so tall could move so quick. "Oh?" He raised his dark eyebrows. "Do you have a silver stake? Can you even use one?" He asked. I scowled. I knew stabbing a Strigoi through the heart with one meant instant death. But because the blades were also lethal to Moroi, so they weren't given out lightly to novices. My classmates had just started learning how to use them. I'd trained with a gun before, but no one would let me near a stake yet. Fortunately, there were two other ways to kill a Strigoi.