I was not quite sure why I was angry - I just knew I was. Giving the punching-bag in the novice training gym my full attention, I delivered powerful punches and kicks in quick succession, all the while imagining it was Anton Szelsky's face. In an already shitty place, he was shit-King as far as I was concerned.
With fair hair and green eyes, at fifteen Anton was already a big deal with the ladies of St Basil's. Of course, the fact his family was rich beyond all belief and one of the twelve royal Moroi families didn't hurt his cause, either. Unfortunately he was also an arsehole of the greatest magnitude. As demonstrated, yet again, today.
'Moroi Culture' was a drag at the best of times. Memorising long lists of royal marriages and political alliances was understandably boring, yet our teacher Mr Gavrilov had the unique ability to make even the odd historic battle or Strigoi attack sound dull. Still, I was resolved to score top marks in this and every other class. Unlike Anton and his little clique of Moroi, I wasn't from a rich or powerful family – so any opportunities coming my way would be because I'd worked to create them.
Trying to tune out his whispers to his mates as he sat behind me, and instead give my attention to Mr Gavrilov's account of the Tarus / Lazar alliance in 13th Century Romania, my interest was suddenly piqued when I heard Anton snigger "Wouldn't mind doing that to Yelena!"
Underneath the table my hands involuntarily turned to fists. Yelena Ilin was a Dhampir in our year. From an exclusively Dhampir community an hour or so from my home of Baia, Yelena was the eldest of three girls - all of whom attended St Basil's. With long straight black hair, and soulful dark eyes, she was both extraordinarily beautiful as well as painfully shy. To be honest, I was surprised to hear Anton mention her at all. Yelena usually slipped under the radar, escaping the notice of Moroi like Anton.
"Yep – there's a lot of things I'd not mind doing to Yelena" he continued suggestively. Even without looking at him, I could hear the ugly sneer on his face. How any woman found him attractive was completely beyond me! Right on cue, his three or four little sycophants chortled encouragingly. Anton was rarely seen without his gang of royal Moroi followers. Having the unique distinction of being as stupid as they were rich, Anton's fan club wasted no opportunity to stroke his gargantuan ego.
Fortunately it was close to the end of the period, so I was spared from overhearing any more of Anton's filth. Still, I made a mental note to listen out for Yelena's name in the future. Anton had a horrid reputation with women, and Dhampirs in particular. If he was setting his sights on Yelena, I wanted to know about it.
Standing quickly as the bell rang, I packed my books into my bag and walked between the desks to the front of the classroom, arriving at the doorway at the same time as Anton and his gang. I pushed forward, walking through the doorway, causing Anton to pull up abruptly.
"Watch it, Belikov!" Anton snarled. "Yeah watch it, Belikov!" one of his minions parroted.
"Sorry, Szelsky. Didn't see you down there." I drawled, pulling myself up to my full height of nearly 6 foot 3. At somewhere around 5 foot 6, Anton was on the shorter side, even for a Moroi. Looking like he'd like to take things further, I lifted an eyebrow at him. As well as 9 inches of height, thanks to twice-daily training sessions I also had a good 55 pounds on him. All of it solid muscle. In any stoush between us, I knew I wouldn't be the loser.
"I think you need to remember your place!" Anton replied angrily.
"Oh? My place is looking pretty good from up here" I mocked, looking around above his head.
With a shove Anton pushed past me and out into the corridor, followed by his crude retinue.
"You really shouldn't provoke him like that you know" came a voice to my left. Looking over I saw Ivan Zeklos. Like Anton he was both rich and royal, however thankfully that's where the similarities ended. With a dry sense of humour, and a gift for impersonation that bordered on genius, Ivan was great fun to be around.
"How was Slavic Art?" I asked – referring to the elective he'd chosen in place of Moroi Culture.
"Yeah not bad" Ivan replied. "We're studying 'The Madonna and Child' again – so lots of tits" he teased, mock lasciviously. Honestly! If anyone overheard him, they'd think he was both profane and a pervert. In truth he was actually a really nice guy.
"So what's Szelsky done this time?" Ivan queried, referring to my altercation with him.
"Aww just the usual. Honestly the guy is such a jerk" I grumbled. I wasn't sure why, but I didn't want to tell Ivan about what Anton had said about Yelena.
Walking towards the cafeteria for lunch, Ivan kept up a running monologue of jokes and funny annotations about the students that we passed. While his observations were bitingly astute, they were also delivered with a smile that belied their severity. Ivan genuinely liked most of our fellow students – and while he often poked fun at them, it was generally done in good spirit. He was equally as able to laugh at himself - some of his funniest jokes were self-deprecating remarks about himself.
At the cafeteria, we moved in to line and loaded up our trays. Ivan with a chicken and mushroom dish and salad. Me with large serves of Pelmeni, Zharkoye and a bowl of Borcsh.
"What?" I asked, seeing Ivan eye my loaded tray. "I have Advanced Combat this afternoon, followed by Weight Training and after class I need to do my afternoon workout. I'll be starving by dinner time!"
My Dhampir genes meant I burned a huge amount of calories – more when I exercised. With twice daily workouts, plus physical classes every afternoon, I'd often have seconds or sometimes thirds at lunchtime. Ivan, in comparison, ate next to nothing - supplementing his diet with human blood from the campus feeders.
After watching me clear my tray and then a second, he stood. "I'm heading to the feeders. Your next class is in the gym – walk with me?".
Walking past Anton and his crew on the way to the door I heard them joking and laughing. Everything about them pissed me off, I thought with irritation. But I really needed to get better control of myself. It didn't pay to aggravate a Moroi royal – even if he was fifteen and irrefutably an arsehole.
On the ground floor I lined up with Ivan as he waited for a feeder. While he could survive without drinking human blood, he'd be irritable and poor company. So most days he popped down for a quick visit to the feeders at the end of lunch. While Moroi drinking blood is something I'd grown up knowing about, just quietly the idea of drinking from another living being grossed me out. Ivan had assured me there was nothing unpleasant about it, but I wasn't sold. Give me a few plates of food any day!
Waiting while Ivan saw a feeder, I noticed Yelena standing a few people behind me in the queue. As a Dhampir she didn't need to feed, but she was there waiting with one of her Moroi friends. Smiling at her, she returned a shy one to me. We didn't really know one another well, yet we shared a camaraderie of sorts. Being Dhampir from towns not too far away from one another, we'd seen each other on the train to and from school each term for as long as we could remember. Also both coming from single parent families we understood the value of money, having first hand experience of the lack of it.
Emerging refreshed from the feeder, Ivan walked jauntily back to join me.
"What have you got up next?" I enquired quickly, hoping he had not noticed me smiling at Yelena.
"Elemental Control, then Russian Literature" he responded.
"I'll take Combat and Training any day" I joked, walking towards the gym down the corridor from the feeders while Ivan headed to the stairs and back up to the teaching rooms for the afternoon.
Advanced Combat was interesting today. Guardian Kozlov had recently started us on stake training. Using blunt plastic stakes we took turns fighting one another trying to land a fatal blow. Dull clear plastic, each 'stake' had an internal pressure censor, which could determine the thrust with which it was deployed. If a strike was delivered with sufficient momentum, the stake would light up red – signalling a potentially fatal blow. Twice in the hour-long session I'd landed successful blows in the vicinity of my opponent's heart. Not a Strigoi take-down by any means – but I was the only student who'd managed to do so.
With a spring in my step I continued on to Weight Training and Conditioning, which seemed today to be more about endurance. As soon as we got there all novices were sent on a 5-mile run. It actually would have been pleasant, had it not been a few degrees above freezing outside. Muttering curses the entire way, I pushed myself to finish the run as quickly as possible and return to the gym and the end of class.
After a hot shower I returned to the gym for my second personal workout session for the day. Most novices did a daily morning workout, or one after dinner, but the slot immediately after the afternoon's physical classes was a quiet time in the gym, and consequently one of my favourite times to workout. Having done weights this morning, this afternoon I was focussing on cardio and kickboxing.
Using the alone time to think about Anton, I pondered why his words today had troubled me so much. It was no worse than he'd said about many other female students. Yet somehow it had bothered me. Maybe it's because Yelena was almost from home? And not a lot older than my sister Sonja?
Yes, I decided, with a final angry kick at the punching bag. That must be it.
Throwing my gloves and towel into my gym bag I headed back to the showers for a quick rinse before heading up to dinner.
