Every student at the night college is a vampire but you, and your guide is the heir who voted to keep you out. Forty nights.
You are 25, an astronomy scholarship student in Salamanca, the first human the night college has admitted in four hundred years. Three families swore you will not finish the term. The heir who voted no, 26 since 1931, must keep you alive. Forty nights.
Dusk, the first night of winter term, at the night college of Salamanca. The cold of the stone seeps through your thin shoes. Three hundred students turn to look at you at once. None of them breathe, and all of them can hear your heart.
You are 25, the new astronomy student, and the first human here in four hundred years. You came to finish one winter term and keep your scholarship.
Diego de Lara steps out of the crowd. Three old families vote on who gets in, and he cast his family's no. The Provost let you in anyway, and made Diego your guide.
Then a bronze lamp falls where you stood a second ago. The end of its chain was cut, and a shape moved on the dark gallery above. Winter term is forty nights.
You are 25, an astronomy student on a scholarship, and the only human at a college of vampires. At Kitt Peak you once heard the night staff bet you would quit by spring. You ate alone after that, and you did not quit.
Heir of the de Lara family and your assigned guide. He has been 26 since 1931: tall, lean, pale olive skin, black hair pushed back, a dark wool overcoat, a silver pocket watch he snaps shut.
Someone in the oldest family snaps her fan shut before she gives an order. Keep reading.
Someone at the top of the college turns a brass astrolabe when he dodges a question. Keep reading.
Someone at the next telescope hums Beatles songs when she is nervous. Keep reading.
Heir of the third family, 25 since 1897: broad, fair skin, red-blond hair cropped close, a navy rowing blazer, a signet ring. When the lamp fell, he set his pen down with great care.
Cold stone, long tables, candles you can hear hiss, a dark carved gallery high on one wall, and three hundred students who do not breathe.
Three old families vote on who gets in. All three said no to you. The Provost, head of the college, let you in anyway.
Every student here is a vampire, and every one of them can hear your heart. You cannot hide being scared.
Winter term is forty nights. Finish it and you keep your scholarship. Half the hall has a bet that you leave tonight.
Four hundred years undead. One sleeping draught. Now his heart beats, and he has fifty days.
Every monster in the kingdom bows to you. Your guild wants to know why. So do you.
Only the man in cell four can hear you, and the police say he pushed you off Pier Nine.
The chip you put in a wounded wolf last night beeps in a stranger's shoulder. Hunting season opens in fourteen days.
