Caleb turned beet red. “I didn’t give her all I had. She’s just a girl.”

Master Angeletti waved him off. “Relax. You can still stay. This girl—what’s your name?”

“Fiona, sir. Fiona Gray.”

“Fiona Gray can have one of the female spots. It looks like the other goes to that young lady over there.” Master Angeletti nodded to the tall girl, the one who’d played it safe in letting the clock run out. Her name was Tara, and although she didn’t look thrilled to see me declared a victor, she made no complaint so long as she got her spot. It was the girl who would’ve been second place who spat out a series of obscenities my way. That seemed to amuse the Warrior authorities, but they held fast in their decision. She and the other defeated recruits were dismissed.

We victors were then treated to a banquet in our honor, back in what served as the compound’s mess hall. The seven of us were seated at one table, while the seasoned Warriors filled others. Personally, I would’ve preferred a shower, but at least I got the chance to sit by Eddie again. He and I grinned and nodded over our plates of ribs as the others relived key moments from the earlier matches and talked about how we were “totally” going to annihilate real vampires. Most of the others seemed impressed by what I’d done to Caleb and got a good chuckle out of it. He, however, clearly wasn’t amused. Throughout the meal, he shot several dark looks over to where Eddie and I sat, and I hoped I wouldn’t regret my last-minute save in the arena.

After lunch, the Warriors decided they’d tested our pen-chant for brutality enough—for now, at least—and that it was time to see what kind of personalities we had. We were called one by one to come speak to the high masters and a select group of Warriors about our intentions going forward. They brought us in by alphabetical order, meaning I went before Eddie and wasn’t able to get any sort of warning of what was to come. This, at least, was pretty consistent from year to year, and Sabrina had briefed us on what to expect: mostly a lot of interrogation during which we’d affirm how much we hated vampires.

What I wasn’t expecting was how much it would remind me of re-education.

Once I was seated in front of the masters and all-male council, they directed my attention to a large screen hanging on the wall. An image of happy, ordinary-looking Moroi appeared.

“What do you see?” asked Master Angeletti.

My heart caught in my throat, and suddenly, I was back in that underground prison, strapped into a chair with Sheridan’s pretty but cruel face gazing down at me.

“What do you see, Sydney?”

“Moroi, ma’am.”

“Wrong. You see creatures of evil.”

“I don’t know. Maybe they are. I’d have to know more about these particular Moroi.”

“You don’t need to know anything except what I’ve told you. They are creatures of evil.”

And then she’d tortured me, dipping my hand an acidic solution that felt like it was burning my flesh off, forcing me to endure the pain until I would finally agree with her and repeat that they were creatures of evil. The memory was so intense, so vivid as I sat there with the Warriors that my skin started to crawl again. The room felt like it was closing in, becoming a prison just as re-education had been, and I worried I would faint in front of them.

“Fiona?” asked Master Angeletti, tilting his head at me. Although stern-faced, there was an indulgence to his voice, as though he thought I might be intimidated by their presence. “What do you see?”

I swallowed, again paralyzed by fear of my past. As my silence persisted, the other Warriors began looking at me curiously. It’s an act, Sydney! I frantically told myself. You did it then, you can do it now. This isn’t re-education. You aren’t trapped, and Jill’s life is on the line.

Jill.

It was the thought of her name, the memory of her clear and innocent face that drew me back to life. I blinked and focused back on the screen.

“Evil, sir,” I said. “I see evil things that have no part of the natural order.”

And so it began. I answered in the ways Sabrina had prompted me, not that I needed much coaching. I just had to answer like I would have in re-education. I recited a cover story we’d come up with, about how my brother Fred and I had been attacked by a Strigoi one night and barely gotten away with our lives. I explained how we’d tried telling the authorities, but no one would believe us. We’d known the truth of the evil we’d seen and spent the next few years searching for help, until finally we’d met Sabrina and learned of the Warriors’ quest.

When the interview finished, the Warriors were smiling reassuringly, pleased with my answers. I smiled back, but on the inside, I was a mess. I could barely stop myself from shaking or losing myself to the memories of that terrible time. I gave Eddie an encouraging nod when I was released back to the waiting room with the others, and then I sank into a chair, grateful that no one seemed interested in talking to me. I was able to sit and space for a while, steadying my breathing and shaking off the memories. He returned a little while later, irritated by their line of questioning but overall relaxed.

“Psychos,” he muttered to me, keeping a smile on his face for the sake of the others in the room. “I stuck to the story, and they took it well.”

“Same here,” I said, envious of how easy it had been for him. He didn’t have the baggage I had.

Once everyone had been interviewed, it was time for dinner and another banquet back in the mess hall. As we ate, Master Ortega recited a psalm and gave a long sermon about the glory of humanity and the light and how we were all doing such a great job in fighting the good fight. It was a variation of what I’d heard with the Alchemists, even before re-education, and I wondered if I’d ever be free of groups of people trying to impose their beliefs on me. Fortunately, we were given some personal time afterward, and Sabrina came over to talk to us in a corner of the room. Other sponsors were meeting with their recruits, so nobody took it amiss.