Nightshade Academy Episode 2: Bloodlust

by Kestra Pingree

  I charge forward. I kick off the ground and hear a crack underfoot, frozen dirt being forced apart. My fingers curl, and I swear my nails have gotten longer. They’re more like claws. I can dig into my prey with ease.

  Kian growls. Right when my dagger-like fingernails are at his throat, he growls, and he ducks. He catches my shoulder and shoves me to the ground hard enough to produce another crack. It’s louder in my head than it is to the rest of the world. I swear I can hear the hum in the earth—or maybe it’s coming from Kian’s chest.

  “Nova, fight it. If you don’t want it to control you, fight it.”

  “I have been fighting it!”

  I swear I say the words out loud, but all I hear is hissing. Am I the one hissing?

  I lunge for Kian again, but he’s fast. No, not fast. He just knows where I’m going and plans how to counter it. I’m faster than him.

  Kian catches my arm and hits my back to throw me down again, but I’m ready for it this time. I bet I’m stronger than him, too. I twist impossibly before hitting the ground, knocking Kian’s legs out from underneath him. He doesn’t have time to scramble back up to his feet. I catch him around the neck with my arm, but not before he’s able to put up a barrier with his own arms. He’s making it hard for me to bite him, to get that fat, juicy artery in his neck.

  It doesn’t matter. Drink his blood anywhere you can get it, and you’ll get to his neck eventually.

  I sink my teeth into the back of his fisted hand.

  “Nova,” he grits out.

  I bite deeper. There’s so much resistance here, so much bone. I’ll just have to cut through that, too.

  Kian muffles a scream. His voice shakes when he speaks. “Maybe you can’t do anything about needing my blood, okay? Maybe you can’t do anything about our Colors being complementary—whatever that means. But you can control the bloodlust. I know you can. It’s just like when you’ve been hungry before your vampire genes manifested. You could still choose if you were going to eat or not. You could still choose how you were going to eat. This is no different.”

  His hand trembles as I sink my fangs deeper. Kian’s bones are stronger than I anticipated, but I finally manage to fracture one.

  I’m not holding him tightly enough. I’m too concentrated on his hand, on drawing blood. He realizes it a moment before I do. He breaks out of my hold. He uses so much force I’m launched back several feet. I roll a couple times before my back hits a tree trunk. I shake my head to stop my vision from spinning and home in on Kian’s chartreuse. It’s impossible to miss.

  Kian’s holding his wrist, blood oozing from his hand and dripping onto the half-frozen ground.

  I smell it. I smell it better than ever, and it’s indescribable. The way I’ve tried to describe it doesn’t do it justice. This is manna from heaven.

  Somehow, I get faster. The trees don’t rustle in my wake until after I’ve stopped, until after I’ve trapped Kian underneath me. I’d have bitten into his neck already if he wasn’t holding me back with trembling arms; they’ll give out soon enough.

  His breaths come out shallow and ragged as if he’s just finished running a marathon. “Nova, if you control it, I’ll let you have it. I’ll let you have my blood. You have to be aware of it, conscious. That’s all I’m asking, okay?”

  I tremble. The vampire part of my brain doesn’t listen to a single word, but the human part of me does. It grasps for something, any way to regain control. Maybe this is it. Maybe I just have to bargain with the curse raging through me until the human part of me is stronger again.

  “Okay,” I say. The word comes out uneven, but at least I was able to say it. At least I’m pulling back, allowing Kian to sit up. I press my hands into my thighs as I sit on my knees, waiting patiently. You’ll get your reward, demon blood. You just have to wait. Just let me take it from here, one step at a time.

  Kian unzips his coat for better access to his neck. “Do it,” he says.

  I don’t wait. His words cut me loose from the tether holding me back. My teeth sink into his neck, deeper and deeper. The human part of me is slipping. I need this taste. It’s life itself.

  Kian hisses, but he doesn’t pull back. His fingers curl against my arms, grasping at something, anything. A lifeline. Chartreuse turns into anemic yellow, getting lighter and lighter, while my lotus pink gets muddier and muddier. Bright, but undeniably brown.

  You’re killing him, Nova. You don’t need any more. Your stomach doesn’t hurt. Nothing hurts. You’re just greedy, only thinking about draining this ecstasy. Stop. You don’t want to kill him.

  Don’t kill Kian.

  CHAPTER 15

  I stop and carefully extract my fangs from Kian’s neck. I can’t give his blood back, but his Color looks so terrible. How can I fix it? I don’t want this.

  The vampire part of me listens to that plea, maybe because it’s satisfied. Maybe it’s not the vampire part of me at all. Something tells me to lick away the blood running down Kian’s neck. Clean the wound, make him feel better. I don’t know why those thoughts enter my head. Someone licking my wound wouldn’t make me feel any better, but I do it anyway. I start where the blood has dripped down his neck, then I move up to the punctures themselves. Kian flinches, but I hold him there. This point of contact takes on green, more and more until it becomes deeper. When I see my hand out of my peripheral vision, the blindingly bright muddy quality disappears bit by bit until its almost lotus pink again.

  What is this buzzing sensation running through my veins? Why are there heartbeats in stereo, sounding at the exact same time? I want more of this. It’s lighter, not like the bloodlust, and I think it tastes even better. What is this taste?

  It tells me to press my lips to his skin. So, I do, softly, savoring the warmth. Maybe it isn’t a taste at all, but this sensation of touching someone, being touched by someone. Is it possible to be starved for touch?

  All the mud leaves my Color. When it looks back at me, it’s lotus pink streaked with shallow lines of darker and lighter pinks, nothing more and nothing less.

  My lips trail up to Kian’s jaw as if they know the action will send the pooled dark green out to the rest of him, turning his Color chartreuse again.

  Kian inhales sharply. His voice cracks. “Please, stop.”

  The way he says please, begging, is like a punch to the face. I let him go. He lets me go. I back away, inching on my knees. Kian slumps forward, hand on his wound. Red blooms through his fingers, but the flow isn’t bad. It’ll stop on its own.

  Wait a minute. I was just… I was just kissing him. My heart almost stops. I’ve never kissed anyone before. What got into me?

  It’s no weirder than wanting to eat the guy, Nova.

  “Thank you,” Kian says.

  “For nearly killing you?”

  “For stopping. You controlled it.”

  “Hardly.”

  “But you still did it.”

  I want to ask him if he’s okay, but that’s a stupid question. Of course he’s not okay. His heart should be beating a million miles a second. He should be terrified of me, but it’s resumed its natural rhythm.

  I want to apologize. Again.

  But I don’t. I say, “Oskar is going to kill me when he finds out.”

  Kian laughs, actually laughs. “You should definitely bite me somewhere less conspicuous in the future.” He holds out his bitten hand and flexes it.

  “Is it broken?”

  “It was, but it’s healing. I’ll be fine.” He tilts his head up, a darker chartreuse showing the line of his smile. “Thanks for asking.”

  “In the future. What is wrong with you?”

  Kian winces. “Me? What’s wrong with you?” His tone is light, too playful to be serious. The mirthful swirl his Color takes on reinforces it. “It’s probably the dog in me. I become loyal too fast?”

  He shouldn’t say things like that, even if he’s joking. But I laugh because this whole thing is ridiculous. Laughter consumes me, and I don’
t notice when Kian raises his hand. I still don’t notice until after his fingers are on my cheek. We both sort of freeze. Then Kian grounds his hand in his lap.

  “I’ve never seen you smile or laugh like that,” he says. “Or at all, really.”

  I don’t have anything to say to that, so I reply with, “Do you shift into a dog or a wolf?”

  “Have you ever seen a wolf with short fur before? Wait. Did you see the length of my fur or just my Color?”

  “I took a picture.”

  “Oh, right. I remember.”

  “You’re a dog, then.”

  “I like to think of myself as a hellhound.”

  “I guess that fits. You shift into a dog the size of a damn pony.”

  It shouldn’t be this easy to talk to Kian. It isn’t easy, but when I let the words out, they sort of flow.

  Kian’s head twitches. He tilts his chin, directing his ears toward something. It’s the wheels of one of those carts we brought out here. Apparently cars are a thing Nightshade doesn’t bother with. Too much noise. Too much gas. We’re all faster and stronger than unchanged humans and Nightshade isn’t that big anyway. Those were all the reasons I got for the strangely dated type of transportation.

  I hear a plane, too.

  I glance overhead, but the trees are too close together and the branches too thick to see it.

  Kian’s Color stops moving altogether.

  “Kian?”

  He says nothing. His heartbeat slows down to the point it’s barely there. When I hold out my hand, just underneath his nose, I feel a slight whisper of his breath and nothing more.

  “Kian?”

  Okay, he’s starting to freak me out. It’s as if he glanced Medusa’s face and got petrified.

  I hold out my hands and reel them back in, unsure of what I should do. Then I cup his cheeks. His skin is cool all of a sudden. I move to his shoulders, trying to shake some life back into him. He still doesn’t respond. I wave my hand in front of his face. I see that flash of red, so his eyes aren’t closed.

  Suddenly, he sucks in a deep breath, making up for being starved of air for the last few minutes.

  “What the hell?” I say. “What happened?”

  “We’re going back to the castle.”

  “We are?”

  Kian hums, stands, and starts stripping off his coat. He doesn’t stop there, though. He keeps going until he’s buck naked. I’ve never really seen anyone’s Color completely bare like this, with nothing to hide any part of it. This is as perfect as I’ll ever see his silhouette. He’s as lean and toned as I thought. His chartreuse moves with darker greens and lighter yellows without any hiccups. I almost reach out for him, expecting moss, or maybe a swamp, but I stop myself. Because this is all skin.

  “You’re staring,” Kian says.

  “You just stripped in front of me. Of course I’m staring. People don’t usually do that for no reason.”

  “I have a reason. I’m going to shift, and we’re going back to the castle. I thought you only saw my Color, anyway.”

  “I do only see your Color, but you still stripped in front of me. It’s brighter than before. I can see all of your Color now.”

  “Huh. Well, I guess I’m sorry for exposing you to all of my Color, then. But now we’re even.”

  “You’re actually a cocky bastard, aren’t you?”

  Kian laughs, but it turns into a doggy sound, almost like barking. His body morphs, completely changing shape, getting bigger in a muscular sense, maybe all around. His whip-like tail slashes the air. Sharp ears point upward after his big head turns my way. Red eyes flash in my vision, and they seem to say, “Come.”

  CHAPTER 16

  I wait for Kian outside one of the bathrooms. I’m glad I had the foresight to bring his clothes with me. I’m also glad my thighs are so tough these days, because it would have been hard holding his clothes without falling off his back otherwise.

  I couldn’t feel his fur through my layers—which I’ve since lessened—but I remember the warmth. Vividly. I crawled onto his back without a second thought. I mean, he must have wanted me to. He got down on his belly and everything to make it easier, and he wouldn’t move until I was secure.

  Why’d he drag me back to the castle anyway? I guess him freezing up like that could mean he had a vision, but what kind of vision would have us racing back here like that?

  Kian opens the door, chartreuse in a human silhouette once again, obstructed by pants and a shirt. Shoes. He’s not naked anymore. I know it’s weird to wish his Color wasn’t hidden like that—but I don’t mean it in a perverted way. His Color is just so beautiful. It’s a shame.

  “Why do you look so disappointed?” Kian asks.

  “I don’t,” I retort. “This is just how my face looks.”

  “I’ve seen your face enough to know.”

  “It’s called a resting bitch face for a reason.”

  “I wouldn’t call it that. You just don’t explicitly wear your emotions on your face for everyone to see.”

  “You can stop now. I don’t need to be reminded that you’re actually a stalker.” And maybe I shouldn’t feel bad for drinking your blood at all, if that’s the case.

  “Not by choice. Anyway—” His words cut off as if someone sliced through them with a knife. His arms rest limply at his sides, and his Color stops moving again.

  “Kian?”

  He shakes his head and presses his hands to his temples. I can’t believe his hand has mostly healed already, even after shifting like that.

  “Maybe… Maybe we should go back to the lake.” His voice is strangely airy.

  “No way. Not after you dragged me back here. What’s happening? Do you keep freezing because you’re seeing something?”

  “Yes. Something.”

  “And? What is it?”

  He blinks, red disappearing for less than a second. “Something you need to see.” A dark green curve shows a frown on his face.

  “So, take me. Show me.”

  “Okay.” He shakes his head. “We’re going to Madeline’s office.”

  The halls are emptier than I’ve ever seen them, and that’s saying something. I hear nothing. I don’t see any fairies flying out of the cracks in the walls or hiding inside of the plants. There’s almost always a fairy you can spot if you’re looking, but I’m looking, and they’re all gone.

  A chill crawls up my spine. I squeak when Kian grabs my shoulder. He covers my mouth and hides us behind a corner as he peeks into the hall I almost stepped into. I stay near him when he lets me go. Someone with an indigo Color is walking in the opposite direction. Pretty sure he’s our pilot. He just landed the plane and went straight to Madeline’s office, then?

  The door’s open. Kian holds his pointer finger to his lips, so I keep my mouth shut. I follow him, and we slide against the wall, stopping when we’re close enough to the open door to hear a voice. Madeline’s to be exact.

  “I’m glad to see you’ve arrived safe and sound, Archer.” Papers flap like they’re being shuffled through. “Please make yourself at home. You’re welcome here.”

  “Welcome?” a voice I don’t recognize responds. It sounds female, around my age, and it’s got a bite to it. “Make myself at home? Do you treat all of your guests like criminals?”

  “I’ve already untied your wrists. You’re not being restrained in the slightest.”

  “Now that I’m in your prison.”

  Madeline scoffs, “You sound just like her.”

  “Who?”

  “Nova.”

  “I don’t know who that is.”

  “You will soon enough.” Madeline sets something down on her desk, something that sounds eerily familiar: a blood bottle. “I apologize for the rough treatment, but we don’t take chances with new bloods. It’s too easy to hurt yourself or someone else. Here we regulate blood, alter it to your needs, and do everything in our power to tame the demon blood coursing through your veins so you can take control of your life
again.”

  Madeline gives her the same rundown she gave me when I was first brought here. Then she says, “We found you under special circumstances. The same goes for your twin.”

  “Twin,” Archer repeats.

  “You’ve never met, but clearly you have some sort of future ties to this place or at least to the one who saw visions of you.”

  “That’s how you found me? Some fortuneteller told you the future?”

  “Sort of. This individual is clairvoyant.”

  My head jerks violently. And then I’m looking at Kian, chartreuse staring back at me, dividing into yellow and green.

  Guilty. Kian looks so guilty.

  “Regardless of these usually fickle visions,” Madeline says, “I’m glad we were able to extract you before Eduardo found you.”

  So, Eduardo is for sure alive and well. Madeline’s little plan to kill him totally backfired. All of this is too strange, too convenient. A twin? I don’t have a twin!

  “And you’ll be reunited with your sister,” Madeline continues. “You don’t have to run anymore. Nightshade will always be open to you if you obey our rules. You’ll be safe from hunters and the vampire who seems intent on using you.”

  “Eduardo, some twin, home,” Archer checks off. “You’re full of shit.”

  “You’re going to get along with your sister just fine.” There’s a hint of disgust in Madeline’s voice. “At least Nova doesn’t put her feet on my desk.”

  Archer laughs, in a way that sounds… cruel.

  Madeline sighs, apparently too exhausted to argue. “I had hoped those hunters would get rid of Eduardo for us. It seems I’ll have to be more proactive. Each time I get a clue about him, find him, he disappears again.” Something thumps. It’s a dull sound, one that can’t be a bottle. Likely Madeline’s fist. “Maybe it would have worked if we had lured in EEA hunters. Perhaps Helena could—”

  She stops, clears her throat. “When Belladonna gets back from their fishing trip, I’ll introduce you and Nova. For now, let’s get you situated in a room.”