Chapter 4

"Here are your quizzes from last time," Jackson said as he walked down the aisles. When he got to Troy, a sticky note was placed over the grade which read, 'See Me.'

Troy looked up quickly to catch Jackson's eye. He nodded, but didn't explain.

Troy peeled back the note to see '100% - A' written in bright red ink. He hadn't missed any? Dope. Then... Troy looked back at the professor. Why did Jackson want to see him? In his experience, a teacher only wanted to see you if you were in big trouble.

The rest of class passed in a blur of worry, but even without his full concentration, Troy understood the material, answering questions correctly when asked.

As everyone stood to leave, the guy behind him nudged him with an elbow. "Troy Barnes, right? I'm Brian." He held out his hand to shake.

Troy shook it, though his mind was on the impending meeting more than this one. "Um, nice to meet you, man."

"Meeting with Jackson, huh?"

That brought his attention back, and fully. "Uh..." Troy swallowed. "Yeah."

"Lucky."

"Lucky? Why?"

"I didn't get asked to see the professor until the end of the first class I took here at the Annex." He rubbed absentmindedly at his collar.

"With Jackson?"

"No, Reyes. But they only ask the best."

Troy glanced back at Jackson, who was talking with another student. He swallowed again. "What if they never ask?"

"I don't know." Brian shrugged. I guess you get kicked out of the program. We never see them again." He smiled and put on his backpack. "Good luck! Not that you'll need it."

"Thanks," Troy said quietly.

He watched Brian leave, talking to one of the female students, who looked back at Troy with envy. Brian patted her back consolingly, and as they left, Troy overheard, "Don't worry, there's still time..."

"Mr. Barnes," Jackson called to him jovially once the room had fully cleared. "Let's go to my office."

Troy nodded. "What's this about? Did I do something wrong?"

Jackson laughed. "Oh no! Quite the opposite." He put his arm around Troy's shoulder and led him into the hallway. "I just want to talk to you about our accelerated program."

"Accelerated program?"

"Normally the Air Conditioning program takes our students two years to complete." He unlocked the door to his office and turned on the light, letting Troy enter ahead of him. "For our most talented students, we find we can shorten the time to a year or even less."

"Really? I could be graduating at the same time as I would have with my general education degree?" The worry he had been feeling was dissolving into excitement. No staying longer at Greendale while the rest of his friends graduated and moved on (well, except maybe Britta, who had chosen her major late. And Pierce, who would leave when death took him).

"Or even sooner." He gestured for Troy to take a seat.

Troy took the chair in front of Jackson's desk. "What do I have to do?"

"Well," he said, coming to lean on the wood in front of Troy's chair. "In addition to my class, you'd start one-on-one training with me a couple of hours a night." He looked Troy directly in the eyes, and his voice slowed and dropped in pitch. "Would that be okay with you?"

"Hmm. I don't know." Giving up so much time in the evening would really cut into his time with his friends. Homework was only an afterthought. "It wouldn't conflict with my other classes?"

Jackson paused before answering, giving Troy an odd look. "It shouldn't, unless you have another evening class?" he asked, his voice back to normal.

"Nope. Yours is the only one."

"Then you should be fine." He continued in the slower, lower tone, "You may want to drop all of your other classes completely..."

Troy thought for a moment then shook his head. "Nah, if it's okay with you, I want to finish out the semester – especially Biology. It's the only one my friends and I take together."

"Sure..." Jackson said, frowning. He shook his head suddenly, as if clearing it, and held out his hand. "Congratulations, Troy, you're accepted into the Accelerated Program."

The man had an iron grip. Troy tried not to wince as they shook hands. Jackson put a hand on Troy's shoulder and leaned in. "We could start tonight, if you–"

The office door opened suddenly. "Professor Jackson."

Troy turned to see Vice Dean Laybourne filling the doorway. Jackson stepped away so quickly Troy could still feel the weight of his palm on his shoulder.

"Vice Dean," Jackson said with deference.

"Remind me..." Laybourne said, still in the doorway. "What did I tell you concerning young Mr. Barnes?"

Jackson turned pale, well paler than he already was. "That you had a personal interest in him."

"Yes." He paused. "With such a personal interest, why did you think it best that you put yourself in charge of..." He stepped fully into the room, towering over both Jackson and Troy. "...his 'tutoring?'"

Jackson shrank back. "I–I'm sorry, sir, I meant no disrespect–"

Troy looked back and forth between the two, feeling like they were two wolves, and he was a piece of meat. He held up his hands to keep them apart. "Don't worry, Vice Dean," he forced a laugh to lighten the mood. "...we haven't started yet."

Laybourne looked down quickly, sizing Troy up in a moment. "Hmm. I see that you haven't."

Jackson laughed nervously. "Yes, I would never..."

Laybourne turned cold eyes on the professor. "You're right, you would never." He stepped back into the hall. "Ever again." Gesturing in front of him, Laybourne said, "Troy? Take a walk with me?"

The office suddenly felt stifling. Troy wasted no time in getting into the hall. "I'm sorry..." Troy said, "I promised my girlfriend I'd meet her tonight. Can we talk tomorrow?"

Laybourne smiled, stepping aside to let Troy pass. "Why, of course! We wouldn't want to keep that girlfriend waiting, now, would we?"

"Haha, no." Troy relaxed slightly as he headed for the door. "You have no idea what vengeance she'd wreak on me if I bailed."

"I remember well what that was like in my younger days," he said wistfully. "And now?" He reached out to pull the door open for Troy. "Now my soul belongs to the Annex."

Troy nodded his thanks and took the handle... and it stayed unmoving in the Vice Dean's grip. Troy looked up into his face, confused. Laybourne's gaze nearly froze him with fright.

"And yours will, too, one day." His voice slowed as Jackson's had done. "Perhaps it can begin today after all."

Troy realized with a start that both men – or not men, it was pretty clear now that he was dealing with the undead – had been trying to glamour him. Annie's anti-glamour charm was around his neck, below the button-down shirt – Troy had forgotten about it completely, he had been so absorbed with possibly finding his calling.

He had to act as if he were being compelled! He willed himself to nod in agreement. "Yeah, perhaps it can..."

Laybourne put his arm around Troy's shoulder and led him away from the door. "Why don't you just text your girl, and tell her you can't make it tonight?"

"Okay..." he said, fluttering his eyes. He pulled the phone from his pocket in slow motion. 'Can't make it tonight,' he typed. 'Stuck at the Annex. Sorry, babe. Would you record Inspector Spacetime for me?' He pressed Send. He could only hope his message got across.

"Very good, Troy. Do you mind if I...?" He held out his hand for the phone.

Troy handed it over without question, what else could he do?

"Thanks," Laybourne said, and then crushed it in his palm like it was paper.

Troy couldn't stifle a gasp.

Laybourne smiled. "Nice try, Mr. Barnes, but do you really think a vampire of my talents wouldn't be able to tell when a person is resistant to glamouring?"

"I–I–"

"Especially someone in the Slayer's inner circle. I wonder how you're managing it?" he asked, as curious as a cat – or a lion – playing with its food. "Well, no one will be looking for you right away. We have plenty of time to find out."