Passing (Crusade) by Debbie Viguié, Nancy Holder Page B

cannot…” And then, and there, I knew that Antonio loved me. I don’t know what kind of private battle he had fought, but he had lost it.
    It was too late, but I never told him that. We never talked about it, and so I never had to tell him that I had been so careful not to let my feelings deepen for what I had assumed was a lost cause. Since he never told me that he loved me, I had no reason to tell him that old cliché --that while I loved him like a brother, it went no further than that.
    As if to make my point, I sat alone, like almost everyone else. The only two who sat together were Jamie and Skye, both red-haired. The rest of us guarded ourselves; we had learned to harden our hearts. Jamie, a fierce streetfighter from Northern Ireland, was the hardest of all of us. Skye, a London goth, liked him, but it was obvious that he was oblivious. I was afraid that my own choices tonight might kill them.
    Or Antonio , I thought, staring at the gut-wrenching carving of Christ Crucified hanging behind the altar. If you didn’t enter the Academia a believer, you became one: crosses, holy water, and communion wafers really did work against vampires. Most vampires.
    I knew one who was immune.
    Or Jack , I added to my prayers. Don’t lay his death at my door.
    I could see my breath. My stomach clenched as Diego looked straight at me. He doesn’t know , I reminded myself. He can’t know. I’ve been so careful.
    Beneath my black robe, my body armor was strapped on over a ratty old black sweater and a pair of faded, tattered jeans. It was what I’d had on the first time I met Jack. I wasn’t exactly sure what I was trying to say by wearing the same clothes, but I felt better with them on. Safer, maybe.
    It was dangerous to feel safe. Possibly even fatal.
    My grandparents had never felt safe. They had been on the run all their lives. Warrants for their arrests were still active
    “And so, on your last night, we are assembled,” Diego said.
    I jerked upright. My thoughts were scattering. It was a nervous habit, a terrible one--“drifting”, I called it. I had been drifting when I met Jack. He could have killed me.
    After all this time, I still wasn’t sure why he hadn’t.
    “First we will say Mass, and then I’ll pair you up for your hunt this evening.” Diego nodded to the back of the church. “The archbishop himself will give you communion. You will be as well armed as the archangels.”
    But only one of us would receive the elixir after tonight’s exam. It seemed so horribly wrong, so unfair. To go through all the training, and make the vows, and then to be denied the best weapon our side had. They would try to protect us; some of us would make our way to other schools to try again. Or maybe to teach. But honestly? Most of us would die.
    The archbishop and the altar celebrants arrived next, swaying down the center aisle as the altar boys and girls swung incense burners. One tall boy, a little younger than me, carried an enormous gold cross. The archbishop wore gold and white robes. He was old and solemn. Some people claimed that the church kept the war going because they wanted the vampires wiped out. There was even talk that the church had ordered the death of the president’s daughter to make sure no one softened toward the Cursed Ones.
    At last the archbishop arrived at the altar. He raised his hand high and blessed all of us. I swallowed hard. My throat was so tight I was afraid I would choke to death.
    The Mass proceeded. I had imagined this night a hundred times, a thousand. The pageantry of the ancient Latin mass. The heavy symbolism. I had even dreamed about it-- bats flying from the altar to be transformed into white doves. But whatever comfort the Mass might bestow on others was wasted on me.
    I was shivering. It was so very cold. Then finally the archbishop gestured for us to sit in the pews.
    Diego stood beside the archbishop. He raised his chin, and began to read from a list held a distance away from