by J. N. Colon
Chapter 20
My heart pounded in my chest, hot and cold rushing over my skin. I was scared of what he was going to do, but even more scared to move. I remained frozen beneath him, hypnotized by his angry, violent gaze.
“I don’t have a soft spot for you Rubi. You’re just Mac’s little puppet, his little princess he can’t wait to turn.”
My sharp intake of air echoed, but no actual words came out to refute him. Why would he accuse Mac of treating me like a piece of property? He’s never made me feel that way and never would.
Demy’s fists were so tight next to me his knuckles were white. “I was only using you to get a rise out of Mac,” he continued through gritted teeth as his lips curled back in a snarl. “I don’t give two fucks what happens to you. In fact I hope the hunters get you and drive a stake through your heart right over your scar.”
His words sliced through my heart like a jagged blade. Hot tears burned my eyes, turning him blurry and my lips trembled. The pain was so intense I couldn’t breathe. A sob clawed up my throat and I slapped my hand over my mouth, but it was too late. I shoved Demy away—he let me—and bolted from his room as the tears poured out like a waterfall.
I mindlessly ran. My feet carried me along until I was suddenly in Jenkins Hall, on Madison’s floor, right in front of her old room. A fresh wave of agony assaulted me. With a trembling hand I reached out and turned the knob.
It was unlocked. I walked in and was slammed with a myriad of memories washing down my back in painful waves. The room was bare—Tiffany moved into another—but the memories were so fresh I could paint it all in my mind. A purple coverlet rested on her bed, a coatrack in the corner with an array of colorful scarfs, and of course the ominous black hunter’s trunk filled with weapons to torture and kill me.
With a sob I collapsed on her bare bed. This is probably the worst place for me to be after Demy practically ripped out my heart. Did he really want the hunters to kill me? Did he really not care at all?
I curled into a ball and sobbed on her empty bed. Maybe I shouldn’t have come back to Highland Academy. All I seem to do is bring the bad. Highland was fine without me. So were Demy and his friends. Maybe even Mac.
The thought of losing Mac made my heart literally seize in my chest.
Okay, okay. I don’t mean that. I couldn’t live without him.
Emotionally exhausted my lids fluttered closed and blackness engulfed me.
I lounged back on the float, soaking up the sunrays while skimming a hand through cool water. My eyes were closed, flashes of light dancing behind my lids. Salty air and coconut oil tickled my nose. There was nothing like relaxing in my pool on a sunny summer day while listening to the waves crash on the shore behind me.
Wait a minute. The sun is usually bothersome to me since I returned from Highland with Mac’s blood in my system. It would be uncomfortable lying directing under it, tanning. The sound of waves crashing was nonexistent as well. The air didn’t smell like salt or coconut either.
Instead the stringent sting of chlorine wafted around and echoes reverberated against high walls.
My eyes snapped open to find myself floating in the middle of the indoor pool at Highland Academy. Slick white tiles were stark against wood bleachers and dim overhead lights glimmered on the surface of the water. The plastic ropes were rolled up, leaving the pool open.
Trepidation coiled in my chest. The only time I’ve been in this building was when Madison shut off the lights and tossed me blindly into the deep end.
Speaking of the deep end… a murky shadow slowly emerged from the bottom, slithering toward me.
My heart crashed against my ribs and fear puckered my skin. I pulled my extremities up, curling into a ball on the float. I was a sitting duck in the middle of the pool with no time to swim for the edge.
Bam!
The float overturned, tossing me into the water. The strong chlorine stung my eyes, seeped up my nose, and burned down my throat. Panic gripped my insides as I struggled for the surface. My legs and arms flailed, but my body didn’t rise any higher. It only slipped deeper.
A cold, pallid hand latched onto my leg. A swarm of bubbles tumbled out my mouth as I tried to shake it off. A shape materialized through the darkness. Black and crimson hair fanned around an ashen, sunken face. Red eyes cut through the gloom, penetrating my bones with ice.
Madison.
She smiled, revealing a set of jagged fangs caked with scarlet gore.
With a desperate kick I shook her off and rocketed for the surface. I broke free, gasping and choking for air. My arms caught the float, one wrist suddenly bound with a silver chain. I followed its length, slowly turning behind me.
A scream tore out my mouth, echoing through the building.
Madison was treading mere inches away, her hair stringy and eyes melting from red to silver.
She tsked. “I got you now.” Her fangs were pristine white again. She lifted an ivory hilted knife, the silver blade liquid from the reflection of the water. “I should have slit your throat when I had the chance.” Her voice was like ice, hard and sharp. “Then this wouldn’t be happening. I wouldn’t have to come back from hell just to warn your stupid ass.”
“What are you talking about?”
She rolled her eyes and tugged on the end of the silver chain she held, yanking my wrist. “It’s all connected Rubi.” She yanked again. “It’s all connected.”
I opened my mouth to ask her for a little clarification when a claw suddenly punched through her chest, ripping her wide open. Blood spurted out, staining the water red.
I awoke with a gasp choking my lungs. My hair was snarled and stuck to my face. A layer of sweat coated my skin and made my clothes sticky.
My body fell back on Madison’s bare bed, my heart violently assaulting my ribcage. I pulled my hoodie away from my chest, trying to let in cool air.
That nightmare seriously sucked! These Madison cameos are getting real old. What is she warning me about? What is connected?
Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe I’m just going nuts from sleep deprivation and taking a nap here of all places was a terrible idea.
A sigh flitted out my mouth as I turned and stared listlessly at the ceiling, my eyes traveling over the faint lines toward the vent. A regular human couldn’t detect the tiniest glint of something reflective.
I stood on the mattress and slid the grate aside with my fingertips, reaching in until I felt a cold, hard object.
A shiver rippled over my spine as I examined the knife. I pulled it from the black sheath to reveal a smooth, sharp blade that was undoubtedly composed of silver. This could probably a kill a vampire as well as a stake.
The scar on my chest tingled.
I tossed the knife aside and reached in to feel for other hidden items. My hand touched flat, scattered objects and I yanked them down, revealing photos of me and the other vampires.
My stomach sickeningly twisted, shooting acid up my throat as I flipped through them, noticing the ones with me had big red X’s through my face and heart. Madison really hated me. She must have been the world’s best actress to pretend to be my friend so well when she really wanted to kill me in a slow, torturous death.
I rubbed my head and jumped down. The need to get far away from her room was stifling. On the way out of Jenkins Hall I tore apart the pictures and tossed them down the trash shoot.
I sluggishly hiked to Hampton Hall, my feet dragging. Even though I slept I felt like a zombie. And I knew the moment I closed my eyes again more nightmares would come.
My foot suddenly stepped on something squishy and I yanked it back with a squeak. I glanced down to see the body of a little dead bird.
Eeww. I stepped on it!
This wasn’t like the torn up corpse of the rabbit. This bird was intact and so small a stray cat could have easily caused its death. From the look of the feathers scattered around it may have toyed with it first.
I shivered and continued toward the dorm, halting
at the body of another bloody bird.
Icy fingertips ghosted down my neck while my heart accelerated. I walked a few more paces to find another bird. And then another. And another. A whole trail of them wound a bloody path through the darkness.
My stomach rolled as the wind blew, carrying the scent of blood mixed with the stench of death. I gagged on it.
What was waiting at the end of the trail?
A combination of curiosity and fear seeped through my body. I should find a vampire, but I didn’t want to waste their time if this was simply the remnants of a bored stray cat or dog.
I followed the trail—my muscles screaming in protest—around a giant oak. Clouds converged dimming the moonlight until only a few feet ahead was visible. Fog thickened, creeping across the ground like a monster itself. The quietness was eerie, the only thing making sound were the creaks of the tree branches swaying in the wind.
Eyes bored into me, watching and waiting in the night. Their weight sent my heart into panic. My breath was shallow and ragged as I swiveled my head in the direction the stare penetrated. I was expecting those horrifying red eyes from my nightmares.
A tiny gasp caught in my throat when I spied a set of scorching violet eyes instead.
Chapter 21
Demy peeled himself off the oak tree and stepped through the fog toward me.
Terror lessened from my body, but hurt filled the absence it left behind. I so did not need him to rip through my chest again with his painful words.
I pivoted in the opposite direction before he could see the shimmer of tears his sheer presence brought.
“Rubi wait! Don’t go, please.”
His voice sounded off so I halted and peeked over my shoulder to notice his extremely messy hair, flushed cheeks, glazed stare, wrinkled shirt, and a bottle of liquor clutched in his hand.
He took another step toward me, stumbling a little. The bottle sloshed as he pointed at me. “I’m so glad I ran into you.”
My brows knit. “Are you drunk?”
“No.” But his head went up and down as a yes. Then he laughed. “You want some?”
I shook my head, waiting for another violent outburst.
Demy came closer. “Awe. Don’t look so glum.”
I crossed my arms against my chest defensively. “Why the hell would you care what I look like? I thought you wanted me dead.” My voice embarrassingly cracked with emotion on that last part.
“I…” He rubbed his face with his free hand, slipping it into his hair in frustration. “I’m sorry Rubi. I don’t know why I said that stuff. I didn’t mean it.”
“You sure as hell sounded like you meant it.”
He closed the remaining distance between us, dropped the bottle, and gripped my shoulders. “I didn’t mean it Rubi, I swear.” Anguish morphed his expression. “I take it back, all of it. The moment that shit came out my mouth I wanted to shove it back in.” His words were frantic and panic bubbled under the surface. “When I saw your face I knew how bad I hurt you and I hate myself for it.”
“Then why did you say it?” I sniffed, my eyes watering.
To my total shock Demy started crying, those violet eyes filling fast with tears. He pressed his forehead down on mine. “I don’t know! I was angry and hurt and I wanted to make someone else hurt.” His hot tears fell on my face. “Please forgive me. I’ll do anything.”
The vast emotion behind his words shocked me. He may be drunk, but there was honesty in his actions. He cared about me. A lot maybe.
Footsteps resonated in the distance and I pulled out of his grasp. Pain flashed across his face, assuming I denied his forgiveness. I pressed my fingertips against his mouth to quiet him. “Let’s go somewhere and talk.”
He nodded and grabbed my hand, but not before picking up the bottle.
We ended up in the secret rooms beneath the school that were currently vacant. I lit the gas fireplace and a few candles to chase away the darkness. Demy slumped on the closest couch and I tied back the curtains before settling next to him.
He took another swig from the bottle and sighed.
“Maybe you should put that down,” I whispered.
“Nuh uh.” He took another sip then tilted it toward me. “Sure you don’t want some?”
I eyed the clear liquid. Why not? It meant less for him. I grabbed it and took a gulp, it burning my throat on the way down. “So talk Demy.”
“Nuh uh.” He snatched the bottle out my hand. “You’re the one who dragged me in here. You talk.”
I tried to yank it back, but his grip was unyielding. “Demy,” I pleaded softly.
He grimaced. “Don’t look at me like that. Please.”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m breaking your little heart right now.”
I looked him levelly in the eye. “You are.” In a way it was true. It hurt to see him like this, so bad in fact it told me how much I actually cared.
Don’t ask me how the hell that happened. I went from suspecting him of murder and animal attacks to trying not to choke up from the agony inside him.
He groaned and tilted his head back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling. He let go of the bottle and I sat it on the ground. “I’m so screwed up Rubi.” His voice was strangled. “I’m so screwed up.”
“No you aren’t.”
Demy scrubbed his hands over his face as his Adam’s apple bobbed. “Travis dies and I’ve been acting like the biggest jerk. I shut my friends out when they needed me and treated them like dirt.” His watery violet eyes met mine. “And I hurt you for no reason. I ignored you even when I saw you struggling to reach out to me. Then when you were brave enough to seek me out I said horrible things.” His lips trembled and tears cascaded down his cheeks. “I’m sorry.” His head suddenly found my shoulder. “Will you ever forgive me?”
“Of course I forgive you Demy.” I rubbed his back while he cried, my heart aching for him. I had a feeling this was the first time in a while he actually cried on someone’s shoulder, if ever.
“I care what happens to you. I care a lot,” he choked out. “I’d never want the hunters to get you. I’d tear them to pieces for harming one hair on your pretty head.” His hand brushed over my sweater where my scar resided as if he knew its position by heart. “I hate you even have this from them.”
A lump lodged in my throat and I felt my own tears cascade down my cheeks.
After a while his cries quieted, but he remained resting against me. “Mac’s a lucky bastard,” he mumbled against my now wet shirt.
I absentmindedly ran my fingers through his soft hair, stirring his scent. I’ve been close to Demy before, but never embraced him like this for so long. While Mac smelled like a wild, woodsy forest, Demy smelled of rich amber and the earth. Their scents were so different and yet held similar qualities—like the two of them.
My fingers traveled deeper into his hair, eliciting a little moan of pleasure from him. His body was relaxing against mine in a way I knew it hadn’t since Travis’s death. I probably shouldn’t try him, but I needed to know. “What happened between you and Mac?” I whispered. “Why did you stop being friends?”
Demy sighed and was quiet for so long I didn’t expect an answer. “When Miranda died it put Mac directly in line for the thrown even though he was only thirteen. If something happened to Whitmore the crown would fall to Mac.”
That’s a lot for a thirteen year old boy to handle, especially one who recently lost their mother.
“He had to choose things like his second in command, his advisor—you know stuff like that.”
I didn’t know. Did he forget I grew up in the regular world, not in supernatural royalty like they did?
“He also had to pick a shifter ally—someone who would be his link to us. My dad was Whitmore’s. Mac was supposed to choose me. He always said he would.” Demy fisted the bottom of my hoodie as a tremble shook his body. “But when the time came he chose my older brother Vikrum.”
I could literall
y feel Demy’s heart squeeze or maybe that was mine. I dove my fingers into his hair again to soothe his pain. “You were hurt?”
He nodded against me. “Mac said it was the right choice because Vikrum was older and more experienced. He said it’s what his father expected out of him. But we were best friends.”
Ah. Is this when Mac really began to shoulder everyone’s expectations?
“I told him we were done, our friendship was over. I was a stupid thirteen year old kid whose pride was hurt. After my brother died I treated Mac even worse. When he asked if I’d be his ally a year ago I practically spit on him and gave him the finger.”
“I’m sure he wasn’t a picture of civility either.” Mac was no angel. He acted like a complete ass when we first met. “I’m sure he didn’t treat you all that well.”
“Yeah, but I should have forgave him already. I just couldn’t suck up my pride. Neither of us could.” His voice was getting sleepy. “We’re kind of alike in that way.”
I noticed.
My fingers trailed through his silky hair again, my eyes heavy.
A sigh flitted out his mouth. “God, that feels good,” he mumbled. He kicked his feet up on the couch and slid his head into my lap. “Let me rest my eyes for five minutes. And then we’ll go back to the dorm.”
“’Kay.” I yawned. “Just five minutes.” My head rested on the back of the couch, suddenly remembering about the trail of dead birds. I vaguely thought I should tell Demy, but the thought slipped away as darkness swallowed me.
Chapter 22
I woke up with a wicked crick in my neck from sleeping sitting up on a couch. Why am I on a couch?
A tingle of electricity buzzed down my spine and I picked up my heavy head. My eyes fluttered open to see Mac standing a few feet away—with a clenched jaw and eyes rimmed in silver.
Reality smacked me across the cheek. The memory of talking with Demy in the secret vampire room slammed into me and I realized the weight in my lap was his head. His sleeping form still laid there with my hand in his hair.
