by J. N. Colon
A wet gurgling resonated through the living room before Travis’s body stopped struggling. His eyes stilled, staring vacantly toward the ceiling.
He was gone.
Tears cascaded over Demy’s cheeks and his face was twisted in anguish so deep it tore my insides apart. I’ve never seen so much emotion on him. I’d rather not. It was heart breaking.
He closed Travis’s eyes with a trembling hand. “What did this?” His voice was a strained whisper. When no one answered he addressed the crowd with a dark glare. “What happened!”
Vera, Jared, and Adalynn kneeled next to Demy, tears and hurt morphing their faces. Vera didn’t seem like the tough girl I was used to and Adalynn was even more fragile than usual. Jared’s crooked smile was gone and his eyes were like pits of sadness.
I tried to keep quiet out of respect, but a tiny sob slipped out my mouth, catching Demy’s attention. He looked at me, pain and guilt shadowing his eyes.
Unable to bare his gaze I pressed my face against Mac’s shirt, unconcerned with my makeup. Did Demy blame me? Was he thinking he should have been up here instead of downstairs with me?
“We’re not sure what happened.” Whitmore’s usual powerful, commanding voice was soft and sympathetic. “Travis was outside and we heard a scuffle. Mere seconds later he was tossed through the glass door with his throat torn out.”
“What could have done this,” Demy growled.
“Again, we’re not sure. I couldn’t detect a distinct scent outside.” Puzzlement laced Whitmore’s words. “Except death. It’s all I could smell.”
A cold shiver rippled up my spine and Mac’s arms tightened in response.
“The guards and some of the others are outside trying to pick up a trail.”
Demy gently laid Travis back on the floor and stood, aggressively raking his fingers through his inky black hair. “Jared, come with me. Vera, Adalynn, stay with—stay with Travis.”
Mac’s grip loosened. “I’ll come too.”
Demy shook his head. “Stay with her.” He avoided my gaze as he and Jared walked by.
My lip trembled and I turned into Mac again, masking my sobs against his chest.
Chapter 19
The following two weeks at school sucked. The shifters took Travis home to his parents. They had a funeral with no vampires allowed. I felt awful. I never lost anyone I could actually call my friend—except Madison and that was all fake. Once they returned every time I saw them a lump clogged my throat and I couldn’t speak or breathe. They sullenly ambled around campus, an obvious hole in their group.
Vera, Jared, and Adalynn were starting to handle things a little better. They weren’t completely ignoring the vampires.
But Demy was.
He wouldn’t spare them a glance or even me. It was as if we didn’t exist. I’m guessing he blamed us for Travis’s death since it occurred at Whitmore’s house, which was supposed to be uber-safe. No one knew what happened. I heard talks of rebel vampires or shifters since Travis’s throat was torn out by something inhumanly strong with sharp teeth. Someone also mentioned werewolves—yes they really existed—but were rare. I questioned Whitmore and Roman whether this could be related to the missing vampires, but they dismissed the idea since none of them have turned up dead with ripped out throats.
Travis’s murderer remained a mystery. The creature had come out of the woods and gone back without a trace. No one was able to pick up a scent other than death and decay. The multitude of unanswered questions wasn’t helping Demy. Vera told me to give him time. He was angry and looking for someone to blame.
I now had no doubt Demy or the other shifters at Highland had nothing to do with the animal attacks or missing vampires. I felt terrible for even thinking them capable of it.
I absentmindedly moved the vegetables around on my plate during dinner in the dining hall, ignoring the conversations unfolding around me. The humans were under the impression Travis died in a car accident. It made me sick his death was chalked up to something so mundane.
Adalynn and Jared were at the end of our table while Vera sat at the table across the room with Jackson. All three looked subdued, but nothing compared to Demy. He was next to Adalynn, staring listlessly without touching his food. Dark circles bruised under his haunted violet eyes.
My stomach clenched, threatening to toss my porterhouse steak.
Mac gently nudged me. “You want some of mine?” He pointed to his half eaten steak.
I tried to hide my grimace and shook my head. “No thanks.”
“Holy shit,” Trevor said from across the table. “Rubi’s turning down steak. Are you sick?”
Mac kicked him from under the table.
“Ouch man.” He rubbed his leg. “It was just a joke. Lighten up.”
I explained to Mac what happened the night Demy tricked me as a little kitten. He was angry at us both, Demy for doing it in the first place and me for keeping it a secret, but he let it go. It was a stupid, asinine trick that was so trivial compared to Travis’s death.
Out the corner of my eye I saw Demy stand and shuffle toward a food line. “I’ll be right back,” I said, jumping up. “I-uh, I need something…” I trailed off, unable to find the strength to create a lie. Mac’s green eyes followed my line of vision and understanding dawned across his face.
I caught up with Demy as he reached for an apple. His Audioslave t-shirt was wrinkled and black boots untied. His face was unusually pale and inky hair a mess. “Hi Demy.” I awkwardly cleared my throat. “I um…”
He turned and stalked off without the slightest bit of acknowledgement.
A lump rose in my throat as he left the dining hall alone. I slouched back to the table and slumped in my seat, dejected.
Mac brushed the hair from my face and kissed my temple. “Just give him time.”
I nodded, but part of me didn’t think time was the answer. What if Demy never talked to me again?
***
Quiet, cold Demy suddenly turned into violent Demy.
In between classes I stumbled upon him fighting with Mac off the path obscured by trees. Well, more like Mac was letting him pound on him. From the silver melting into his eyes I doubt he was going to remain composed for much longer.
A gasp escaped my mouth and I sprinted toward them. Blood smeared Mac’s face and stained his white uniform shirt. Demy’s hands were bloody, some was Mac’s and some from his own split knuckles.
A hard smack reverberated as he punched Mac in the jaw, his head snapping to the side.
“Stop!” Panic coiled in my chest and I tried to force myself between them, but Mac gently pushed me out of harm’s way.
“Are you done yet?” Mac rubbed his face.
“Not even close,” Demy growled, cracking his knuckles. His cheeks were flushed and violet eyes wild, reason nowhere in sight. He raised his fist for another punch, but I snatched his hand in mine, ignoring the slick blood.
“Demy don’t,” I pleaded, my voice cracking and tears springing to my eyes.
Those violet eyes finally met mine for the first time since that night and they burned with anger, but the pain was so deep it sliced me to the bone. I could see why Mac let him pummel him.
His fist loosened in my hand, releasing the tension. His breath was ragged and body trembling. A fine sheen of sweat coated his face, causing his inky hair to stick to his skin. His black uniform sweater was tossed on the ground while his white shirt was hanging half out his pants with a splattering of blood. He didn’t even bother putting on a tie.
The heavy silence continued as he glowered at me. The last time I heard his voice was at the party. Even the teachers knew not to call on him in class. He was like a ticking time bomb that finally exploded on Mac.
“Say something,” I whispered.
Instead he swallowed hard and slipped his hand from mine, his fingers lingering for a moment as if he didn’t want to let go. And then he was gone.
I turned toward Mac, my gaze skimming over his injure
d face and tried unsuccessfully to hide my sniffle. I hated seeing him hurt.
He wiped some of the blood off with the sleeve of his black sweater. “It’s all right Rubi. I’m already healing.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I know, but…”
“Oh shit. What happened to you?”
I froze at the familiar yet unfamiliar voice. My gaze shifted to the left and saw—Paisley Collins!
At least I think it was her. She was in a crimson Highland sweater and gray skirt, but her black hair was pulled up in a severe ponytail with her bangs pinned back. She wasn’t wearing a lick of makeup and her usual mean cobalt eyes lacked the iciness. Instead they were haunted.
She didn’t resemble the mean socialite I met a few months ago and she was far from the crazy girl who accused us of ruining her life. This was someone different.
My jaw nearly hit the ground.
“Yep. Look who’s back.” Aspen sauntered up with an OMG look distorting her face.
Mac was just as perplexed as I was. “Um…” He shifted, trying to hide most of his healing injuries. “Hey Paisley.”
She nodded awkwardly. “Hey guys.”
What the hell?
“Why was Demy Dragoniv trying to maim you?” Aspen asked, eyeing Mac’s blood soaked shirt.
“Long story.” Mac’s mouth tightened, signaling he wasn’t in the mood for questions.
“O-kay…” Aspen linked her arm through Paisley’s, taking the hint. “I’ll walk you to class P.” Thankfully she had enough sense to pull her along too. And oddly Paisley silently followed.
“That was weird,” Mac said, wiping a droplet of blood off his lip, one that I’d been secretly eyeing with longing.
“Yeah. She seems different.” My gaze followed her, wondering what game she was playing, if one at all.
Mac sighed and nudged me forward. “You should get to class. I need to change.”
I nodded and stalked toward the building after the two girls who made my life hell when I was first here. I’m best friends with one and the other one was a wild card.
Professor Allan was out sick so the substitute instructed us to read in our books during English, but most of the class ignored him and socialized. My eyes were glued to Paisley who was the only one quietly reading. A few months ago hell would have frozen over if she wasted the opportunity to socialize, which for her usually meant laughing at someone’s expense.
Suspicion threaded through my blood. What is she up to?
Someone tapped my shoulder and I turned to find Vera sitting behind me. “Hey.”
“Hey.” She flashed a wry smile. “I heard about Demy and Mac.”
I grimaced and rubbed my forehead as if it would erase the bloody images out my mind. News sure does travel fast at Highland.
“He’ll come around,” she said, leaning her chin in her hand. “At least he’s showing some emotion instead of walking around like a cold-hearted zombie.”
“That’s progress,” I sighed, playing with the ends of my tangled mane. “He actually made eye contact with me today.”
She threw her hands up dramatically and smiled. “See. Even better.”
I shrugged, trying to swallow the guilt down. “How come the rest of you aren’t blaming us?”
“Rubi.” She reached over, her sleeve riding up to reveal her leather cuff bracelet, and squeezed my hand. “No one blames you or the vampires not even Demy. He just doesn’t do well with losing people.”
My brow arched questioningly.
She released my hand and sat back, running her fingers through her pixy cut. She bit her plump bottom lip hesitantly. “About two years ago his older brother Vikrum died.”
My heart squeezed at the somber knowledge.
“A brutal group of hunters came after them in the woods one night. They didn’t view Demy as a threat because he was just a kid. They shot Vikrum with an arrow and slit his throat. Vikrum died in his arms just like Travis.” Vera’s face was pale and dark eyes shadowed with memories of the past. “He hasn’t been the same since.”
A fist knotted my chest, painfully constricting my breathing. I couldn’t imagine losing a sibling and then a close friend almost the same way. No wonder Demy’s so furious.
“Well really he hasn’t been the same since he lost Mac.”
My head snapped up. “What do you mean?”
Vera’s mouth clamped shut once she realized her slip up. “I can’t say.”
I leaned over her desk, frustration ebbing toward the surface. “Why not? What do you mean he lost Mac? Their friendship? What the hell happened?”
She shook her head. “I’m sorry.” She pantomimed zipping her lips. “My lips are sealed. Demy forbade me to tell you.”
I slumped and sighed in my seat. “Fine.” But at least I understood Demy a little better. He keeps his emotions in to forget the pain, but Travis’s death has unleashed anger.
Maybe someone could change that. Maybe I can change it.
While Mac was at practice I marched toward Demy’s room, determined to break through his wall and shatter his defenses. The past couple weeks left a knot in my chest knowing how much he’s suffering. I wanted to release him from that torture.
The light darkened as I entered a corridor with windows running along the left wall overlooking the dark grounds. I rubbed my face, confused by the strong urge to help Demy. Why do I even care? Even before this Demy was usually a jerk who was just trying to piss Mac off by hitting on me. He shamelessly flirted with me and even tricked his way into my room, into my bed. And here I am fretting over his emotional state of mind.
Why?
Maybe it was because Mac and Demy used to be good friends. Maybe it was because I knew Mac cared. Or maybe it was the protectiveness he showed toward me that night before shit hit the fan.
Deep down my instincts told me he was a good guy—his jackassness just overshadowed it most of the time.
Thoughts of Demy suddenly flew out my mind when I felt a cold stare penetrate my bones. I halted and peered out a window to see a pair of yellow glowing eyes shining through the fog laden darkness.
Ice trickled down my back and my heart pounded erratically.
What is that?
I reluctantly inched closer. My breath clouded the glass as I waited for the thing to either charge the window or dissolve into the night. Instead those glowing eyes turned the shade of fresh blood.
A gasp tumbled out my mouth and I reached for my phone to snap a picture. My trembling hand danced over my empty pockets.
Damn. I left it in my room.
The glowing orbs of red suddenly blinked out, lost to the shadows as if they never existed.
I slumped against the cold glass, my pulse shaking through my veins. My mind whirled with all the rational possibilities to explain the glowing yellow to red orbs, but nothing seemed plausible.
My fingers brushed against my lips and I began chewing my nails relentlessly as nerves ricocheted through my body.
I saw something. Something was watching me. Right?
A frustrated groan slipped out my mouth. Whether it was real or my sleep-deprived mind playing tricks on me, I’m not saying a word without proof. I’m supposed to be a vampire leader in the future. What would they think of me if I cried wolf every time something gave me the heebie jeebies.
I sighed and turned the last corner to Demy’s room, my feet dragging heavily. Now my heart was racing for another reason.
Come on Rubi. Put your big girl pants on.
I rapped my knuckles on the door, secretly hopping he wouldn’t answer.
“What?” His deep voice traveled through the door.
Oh man. Too late.
I swallowed hard. “It’s Rubi.” My own voice squeaked embarrassingly. “Can I come in?”
A pause. “Yeah.”
With a deep breath I walked in and closed the door behind me, awkwardly leaning against it. A sudden flush ran up my cheeks. Maybe I should have left it opened.
; Demy was reclined on his bed with one hand tucked under his head and the other holding a magazine. His clothes were wrinkled and hair messy. A distinct shadow laced his chin, making him appear even more dangerous than I first thought he was.
Jared, who had shared a room with Travis, moved in with Demy when they returned. It was similar to most in Hampton Hall with two beds, two closets, two dressers, windows, bathroom, and a desk. On Demy’s side there were posters of alt-metal bands and Alfred Hitchcock movies. Jared’s side had a couple decks of cards, a poker table folded in the corner, and a casino game on the dresser.
“Hey.” My voice was so quiet I wondered if he heard me.
Demy’s face remained blank but those violet eyes burned me, deepening the flush across my skin.
I cleared my throat and tried to ignore the weird tension lingering in the air. I peeled myself away from the door and sat on Jared’s bed.
“I-uh… I’m sorry.” I averted my eyes and uncomfortably fidgeted with my red hoodie. My palms started to sweat and mouth turned dry. Why won’t he say something? I chanced a glance under my lashes to see him still staring unblinkingly from his lounged position.
This might have been a bad, bad idea.
He unexpectedly tossed the magazine aside and sat up. “What are you sorry about Rubi?”
His cold tone caught me off guard. It shouldn’t have. He’s been acting this way for two weeks. Did I expect something different because he held my fingers for like a nanosecond?
I’m such an idiot.
“For, um, what happened.” I bit my lip and cowered under his harsh gaze. “I’m s-sorry about Travis.”
Demy’s eyes narrowed infinitesimally. “Did Mac send you?”
My brows knit, confused. “No. I came on my own.”
“Did he think I would cave because I have a soft spot for you?” He shot off his bed and towered over me so fast I gasped. “I got news for both of you.” His arms went around each side of me almost touching my thighs as he leaned down so close I had to lean back if I didn’t want to kiss him. He moved closer.
