Chapter 7 Kate
KATE
The entrance hall had been designed to intimidate, and it did its job beautifully.
This was the mansion’s heart—a cavernous space with gray marble floors and a polished mahogany staircase that swept up to the second level.
Floor-to-ceiling windows lined one wall, letting in shafts of afternoon light that the crystal chandelier caught and scattered into dancing dots of color.
Normally, this space served as our formal entryway, impressive enough to make visitors think twice about causing trouble.
Today, we’d transformed it into a makeshift assembly hall.
Folding chairs had been arranged in neat rows facing a temporary podium we’d hauled out of storage.
Behind the podium, Laura had hung the Forza West banner she’d designed last semester—the same stylized sword as our van logo, with our newly-adopted school motto stitched beneath—In Tenebris Lux.
In darkness, light. Stuart had vetoed my first suggestion, which translated roughly to stab first, ask questions never.
The current students sat in the front row—Ren, Ana, Eliza, and Mindy. The new arrivals had been placed in the row behind them, a deliberate choice to emphasize that they were joining an established community, not starting from scratch.
Sophie sat in the middle, twisting a strand of hair around her finger and looking like she wanted to sink through the floor.
Zane flanked her on one side, occasionally leaning over to whisper something reassuring.
On her other side, Trevor slouched with his arms crossed and his headphones back on, despite the fact that orientation was about to begin.
I made a pointed show of looking right at him. He made a pointed show of not noticing.
Fine. Maybe I’d address that later. Always nice to end the day reining in a potential troublemaker.
The staff lined the wall to my right—Eric, his arms crossed, ready to teach them both research and demonology.
Marcus, still shattered, but holding it together.
Cutter, solid and steady as always, with Laura beside him looking eager to dive back in to teaching how best to research all things demonic.
Stuart sat in a chair near the window, clearly tired but present—he’d insisted on attending despite my suggestion that he rest.
Jared stood slightly apart, managing to look both seventeen and ancient at the same time.
The new students already knew he was Allie’s boyfriend.
What they didn’t know—yet—was that he was also a hundred-and-twenty-seven-year-old vampire who’d be helping with night training exercises.
As for Allie herself, she was seated with the faculty, a nod to her role as both teacher and student.
Eddie had declined to attend, muttering something about orientation speeches being “right up there with root canals and tax audits.”
The meeting had an official sort of vibe despite our small student body. But we were aiming to increase the number of students each year, and I figured practice was a good thing.
And speaking of practice... I stepped up to the podium and smiled.
“Welcome to those of you who are new, and welcome back to those who are returning. I’m Kate Connor, and I run this school.
If you have questions, concerns, or complaints, my door is always open.
If you have emergencies, find the nearest adult and start talking. ”
Sophie nodded earnestly. Zane gave me his full attention. Trevor examined his fingernails.
“Let me be clear about what this place is and what it isn’t,” I continued.
“This is not a summer camp. This is not a reform school. This is not a place where you will learn to do cool tricks to impress your friends. This is the real deal—a training facility for Demon Hunters, and the skills you learn here may one day save your life—or the lives of people you love.”
I let that sink in, watching their faces.
They all knew the nature of the school by now, but they each had differing levels of knowledge about the supernatural.
At the moment, Sophie looked terrified—not surprising considering the demon attack at her home.
Zane looked intrigued, and I remembered his file mentioning years of martial arts training, so he should be a solid asset.
Trevor had pulled out his phone, which irritated me but didn’t surprise me—according to Marcus, the kid had been sullen and closed off for the entire journey, and eye contact seemed to be against his personal code.
“Mr. Dawson.” My voice cracked like a whip. “Unless that phone contains critical information about an imminent demon attack, put it away.”
Trevor looked up slowly, deliberately. For a moment, I thought he might challenge me.
The room went very still.
Then Zane leaned over and murmured something to him. Whatever he said, it worked—Trevor pocketed the phone with a scowl.
I caught Mindy leaning toward Eliza whispering something behind her hand.
Her eyes flicked to Zane, then away—the universal tell of a teenage crush in progress.
Great. After everything that had happened in the last forty-eight hours, part of me wished we’d made this a single-sex academy.
The last thing I needed was hormones complicating an already impossible situation.
Then again, at least it was normal. Blessedly, stupidly normal.
“The creatures we fight are real,” I continued. “They are dangerous. They do not care about your feelings, your backstory, or your potential. They will kill you if they can, and they will enjoy doing it.” I paused. “Our job is to make sure you’re ready to stop them.”
From the way they looked at me, I finally had their undivided attention.
I was about to take advantage of that rare state in teens by launching into the orientation material when Stuart made a sound—a sharp intake of breath that slashed through the room.
I turned just in time to see his eyes roll back, his body going rigid in the chair.
Not now. Please, not now.
Except, nope. This was very much happening now, as proved by his low moan that sounded like a man in pain.
“Stuart?” I kept my voice calm, but my heart was hammering.
The moan subsided, and his lips moved, but when the words finally came out, his voice sounded older. Deeper.
“The collar hides the teeth.”
The new students exchanged alarmed looks, and I heard Trevor’s low whisper of “What the hell?”
Then Stuart slumped forward, gasping, and the moment broke.
Trevor jumped to his feet, his eyes wide, and his cool veneer forgotten. “Seriously. What the hell was that?”
I didn’t answer, just hurried to Stuart’s side and pressed one hand to his shoulder. “Hey,” I whispered. “You okay?”
He nodded, already coming back, albeit blinking and disoriented. “I’m fine,” he murmured. “What did I say?”
“Nothing important,” I lied smoothly. “I’ll tell you after.
” I turned back to the students, summoning every ounce of authority I possessed.
“Mr. Connor has a medical condition and has these occasional episodes. Nothing contagious, nothing dangerous, and absolutely nothing to worry about.” That was good enough for now.
I’d explain about the visions and the battle with Lilith some other time.
Zane was watching Stuart with an expression that suggested he thought I was full of shit. Sophie looked both fascinated and terrified. Trevor had his phone out again, probably posting something on social media.
“Trevor,” I said, nodding at his phone, then continuing as he sulkily slipped it under his thigh.
“That reminds me—posting on social media about what we really teach at this school is not only grounds for dismissal but will get you a one-way ticket to Rome for the kind of debriefing you really don’t want to go through.
Plus, everyone in your feed will think you’re nuts. ”
I gave them all my Stern Mom Look, then cleared my throat. “As I was saying,” I continued in an everything’s fine here kind of voice, “this is a training facility. Let’s talk about what that means.”
I went through the outline I’d used last year at Ren and Ana’s orientation—class schedules, dormitory rules, the chain of command, and the absolute non-negotiable requirement to report any demonic activity immediately.
I introduced the staff and their roles, getting a chuckle from Ren and Ana when I referenced Jared’s specialized skills—and wide, terrified eyes from the new kids.
Even Trevor looked unnerved about the idea of a vampire instructor.
“Questions?” I asked when I’d finished.
Sophie raised a tentative hand. “What if...what if we’re not good enough? What if we can’t do it?”
“Then we’ll train you until you can.” I smiled and softened my voice. “No one expects you to be perfect on day one. That’s why you’re here—to learn. The only failure is giving up.”
Sophie nodded, looking slightly less terrified.
I let my gaze scan the room, lingering for a beat on Trevor.
“That said, this is a school, and you are all essentially on scholarship. This isn’t juvie.
It’s not court-ordered probation. You were in the system and got noticed by a Forza recruiter.
So we already know you have potential, and I think you’ll all fit in. ”
I smiled before continuing. “At the same time, you’re free to walk out that door anytime.
Our only requirement is that you keep what we do confidential.
If you don’t...well, not all demons are unfriendly.
And quite a few owe us favors.” I added a smile, so they wouldn’t know if I was joking or not. I was.
Well, mostly.
“Anyone else?”
Silence. Trevor looked like he had plenty of questions, but none he was willing to ask in front of everyone, and I made a mental note that his surliness might be a disguise for shyness.
I ended the orientation and dismissed everyone to follow Eliza and Ren to the dorms, so they could get settled before lunch.
The students filed out, and I noted that when Zane fell into step beside Sophie, he asked her something about Iowa that made her smile.
Hopefully, he’d be just as solid with training as he seemed to be with fitting in.
Trevor hung back, waiting until everyone else had left before slouching toward the door.
“Mr. Dawson.”
He stopped but didn’t turn around.
I stepped down from the podium and walked toward him. “First days are hard,” I said. “I get it. New place, new people, new rules. It’s a lot.”
His shoulders tensed, but he didn’t move.
“You don’t have to like it here. You don’t even have to like me. But you do have to give it a real chance.” I moved around so I could see his face. “The skills we teach aren’t just about fighting demons. They’re about survival. About protecting yourself and the people you care about.”
He dropped his gaze, shoving his hands into his pockets. I couldn’t tell if he was surly, fearful, lonely, or just scared. Didn’t matter. At the end of the day, my job was to get him out of his shell and train him to be a Hunter who could stand on his own or beside other Hunters.
“I’m not your enemy. None of us are. We’re just people who’ve seen what’s out there and want to make sure you’re ready for it.”
He met my eyes for the first time, and for a second, I saw the scared kid underneath all that attitude. Foster care, thick file, bounced around the system. Kids like that learned early that adults couldn’t be trusted, and that showing vulnerability could get you hurt.
“Yeah,” he said finally with a deep shrug. “Okay.”
He walked out, and I let him go. Building trust took time.
Eric passed him coming in. “That one’s going to need some extra attention,” he said when he reached me.
“Most of them do, one way or another.” I watched the empty doorway. “He’s got walls a mile high. But there’s a reason Forza recruited him. We just need to help him find it.”
“You’re more patient than I am.”
“I’m a mom,” I said, then grinned. “Patience is a survival skill.”