by J. N. Colon
The gouges on my stomach were healing faster because of his blood. The wounds were scabbed over, some even closed and scaring. They only hurt when I moved too much.
The curtains in the main room had been lifted to clear the view of the front where Whitmore, Roman, Emmaline, and Tristan stood, speaking to each other quietly while everyone arrived. Thankfully the only lighting in the room was a few soft lamps, several candles, and the fireplace.
We sat on the closest couch to the front. Mac pulled me in his lap and insisted on propping my feet up on a coffee table with a pillow underneath. I barely put up a fight because I was too drowsy. The first time we shared blood I’d slept for hours into the afternoon.
Brant sat next to us. He took one look at us and that crocodile smile spread across his broad, clean-cut face. “What’d you two do last night?”
“None of your business,” Mac replied with a naughty smile.
Brant motioned around the room. “True, but everyone in here can tell with just one look.”
Mac shrugged. “So what.”
“Yeah. So what.” Another yawn assaulted me. If someone else had pointed it out I’d be blushing with embarrassment. This was Brant though. I’ve come close to having a front row seat of his steamy make out sessions with Aspen.
He chuckled and lounged back against the couch.
The other vampires didn’t offer their opinions, not even Whitmore. There was no talk of separating us, no lecture, not even a stern look from him. Nada.
Demy lithely folded down on the other side of us. He glanced at me and lifted his studded brow while a smirk threatened his lips.
“Hey man,” Mac said, touching his fist with Demy’s.
This was new. I was used to them trading insults and steely gazes. “I’m glad you two are getting along.”
Demy held up his hands. “Whoa. Don’t get ahead of yourself Rubi. The only reason we aren’t at each other’s throat is because you’re in his lap.” He winked one bright violet eye at me.
Mac’s deep laughter vibrated against my skin.
“Awe. I knew it. You guys are BFF’s again.”
They both scoffed, but it was obvious their relationship had changed.
Whitmore cleared his throat, the crowd quickly stilling. “I’m sure you all have plenty of questions about those creatures.” He sighed and started pacing the length of the room. “They were vampires.”
“I guess we know what happened to the missing vampires,” Brant muttered out the corner of his mouth.
Whitmore shot him a glare. “Yes, thank you Brantly. “
Brant ducked lower in his seat.
“We have identified the two here last night as two who went missing from several towns over.” Whitmore’s serious gray eyes landed on Demy, sadness and regret darkening them. “We are certain one of these creatures is responsible for Travis’s death as well.”
Numerous murmurs flitted through the room. Demy tensed beside us, but there was no surprise or shock in his gaze. After fighting with them last night he must have already arrived at that conclusion. The stench of death hung heavy around those creatures like they described after Travis was attacked. All they could smell outside was death.
A blank mask began to slide over Demy’s face to hide his emotions, to push them away. I slipped my hand into his, concern twisting my heart. “Don’t do that,” I whispered. I squeezed his fingers when he wouldn’t acknowledge me. “At least you know what killed him.”
He swallowed hard and reluctantly met my gaze. “But I should have saved him. He shouldn’t be dead. He shouldn’t be gone like…”
A lump rose in my throat as I realized he was referring to his brother.
“Vikrum’s death wasn’t your fault,” Mac said, his voice vibrating through my back. “And neither was Travis’s.”
Demy’s violet eyes shifted to Mac, a storm of emotions raging in them. “But I could have…”
“You helped save Rubi and Vera last night,” he pointed out. “You were there for us when we needed you.” He leaned over and squeezed Demy’s shoulder. “You can’t keep living in the past or blaming yourself for things you can’t control.”
Mac should listen to his own advice.
“Neither can I,” he admitted.
Hmm. Did he just read my mind?
Demy sighed and raked his fingers through his hair with his free hand. “I know.”
I squeezed his hand again. “You saved me last night Demy.” Without giving it much thought, I leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”
Some of the agony in his gaze melted away along with the blankness of his face. His lips twitched, threatening a ghost of a smirk. “Let’s even this up,” he whispered, his Russian accent deepening. He turned his head and pointed to his other cheek. “This side needs one too.”
I rolled my eyes half-heartedly. I was all too glad to see some of the pain lessened in him. “Fine.” I pressed my lips to his other cheek.
“Hey now,” Mac teased, pulling me back against his chest. “I did help too you know.”
Demy arched his studded brow. “I’m pretty sure you got your thanks last night.”
My face burned with embarrassment and I sank lower into Mac. Is it that obvious?
Mac’s only response was an impish chuckle.
He sure seemed proud of himself.
“Is it some kind of disease,” Corbin asked, bringing the three of us back to the conversation led by Whitmore. “Are we all going to get infected?”
Panic began to rise in the room and I felt Mac’s arms protectively tighten around me. Demy tensed as he glanced around, searching for Jared, Vera, and Adalynn. He relaxed when he spotted them on a couch a few rows behind us.
Whitmore’s palms lifted. “Everyone calm down.” Power emanated from his voice, surging over the uneasy crowd. “It’s not a disease or anything contagious.” He motioned for Emmaline to step forward.
The crowed remained seated, but tension hung heavy.
“After examining the bodies it appears as if they ingested some kind of poison.” She shook her perfect blonde locks behind her shoulders. In her pressed black slacks, peach tailored shirt, and tall heels she looked more like a professor than a student. “The tissue deterioration suggest those two were dead for days, but I believe it’s more. The blood they’ve consumed since was able to slow the decomposing process and replenish the cells. Reverse it somewhat.”
Demy leaned forward. “So those two were pretty much walking vampire corpses?”
Emmaline nodded.
“They didn’t just smell dead. They tasted dead too, like rotten flesh.” He leaned back with a grimace as if remembering the flavor vividly.
A thought sparked in my mind and I perked up. “They’ve been on campus before or for a while. They just haven’t attacked a person yet.”
Mac raised a curious brow.
“I thought I saw red eyes in the distance the other night when I came across a trail of dead birds. And then there was this dead rabbit…”
Demy’s eyes flickered with realization and he tapped a finger to his chin in thought. “Right. We found a rabbit that had been torn apart. I could smell death, but I assumed it was the carcass.”
Whitmore bit his lip pensively. “It’s possible I suppose.”
Emmaline nodded. “Maybe they have some level of consciousness at first and try to feed from animals before their blood lust and death ravages them.” She pointed a delicate finger to her forehead. “The brain was deteriorated the most.”
“Or animals are easier,” Tristan mused from his position next to Roman, leaning against the fireplace. “They just got cocky.”
Animals are easier…
My heart fluttered against my chest so much that Mac tensed. The nightmares I’ve been having even before I returned to Highland flooded back. Madison warned me something was coming several times right before she was slashed with a vicious claw.
My gaze flickered down to the left side of my stomach where t
he creature had sliced me.
She was trying to show me who the enemy was.
I don’t even want to analyze why or how I can have these dreams right now. I wasn’t equipped to handle it yet.
My mind went back to the dream I had when I fell asleep in her vacated room. She encircled my wrist with a silver chain and said it was all connected…
I started to get it when I read the shark attack article yesterday, but I was too preoccupied to really piece it together. And then I was attacked by the very enemy I was warned about.
“Could these things be responsible for the recent supposed animal attacks?” I asked.
Emmaline and Whitmore stared at me with matching blank expressions.
“The ones in the news…”
“Oh like the shark attack on Paisley’s phone yesterday!” Adalynn’s voice echoed through the room, surprising everyone. Her face immediately burned scarlet and she sank into the couch between Vera and Jared.
Demy grinned at her.
“Yes,” I said. “No one actually saw these animal attacks happen. They only stumbled upon the remnants later and assumed it was an animal because of the extreme carnage…” I motioned toward my stomach.
The corners of Whitmore’s lips twitched, threatening a smile. “That may very well be possible Rubi. Good thinking.” He motioned to Roman. “Get someone to look into all the recent animal attacks, human and animal victims.”
Roman nodded and leaned away from the wall. He grabbed his phone off the white marble mantel and quietly walked toward the left, disappearing around a corner.
Check mark for the teenage not exactly human and not quite a vampire yet future queen.
“That’s my girl,” Mac whispered, bringing a stupid grin to my mouth.
Months ago I would have cowered in awkward embarrassment after speaking to a crowd of intimidating vampires—and a couple of shifters—but now I felt satisfaction that I added something of importance.
No one needs to know I was getting advice from my dead pretend best friend who turned out to be my enemy.
A yawn assaulted me and I slumped against Mac as Emmaline elaborated on the physical science of the undead vampire things. My eyes began to droop.
“As to who or what exactly poisoned them, we don’t know yet. They could have even ingested it from a human source through blood.” She held her palm up, ceasing the second wave of mounting panic. “Don’t fret over any donated stock. Only worry about drinking from living sources you aren’t well acquainted with. For all we know there could be a new popular drug that’s poisonous to us.”
My head nodded forward a couple times until Mac kicked his legs up on the coffee table underneath mine and scooted me down so my head pillowed against his chest. His hands stretched across my ribs. “Go to sleep baby,” he murmured in my ear and kissed my temple.
I yawned again. “I don’t want to be rude.”
“You’re not. Everyone understands.”
Demy moved on the other side of me, slipping his hand out of mine. He returned with a blanket, spreading it over me. He winked one of those violet eyes. “Nap time,” he whispered.
I so wanted to sleep. I glanced over at Whitmore to find him surveying me with a warm expression.
Well if it’s all right with the king…
I snuggled against Mac and my eyes drifted shut. One word echoed through my mind just as the darkness of sleep crept toward the edges.
Connected.
Was I still missing something? Were there more links to this I hadn’t seen yet?
***
The story Roman spun for the humans was animal attacks—again. It fit along with the current attacks in the news so why not?
Vampires sure do give animals a bad rep.
Classes were canceled for a week.
No one would miss Professor Forsyth—his family didn’t even speak to him—but Professor Allan was a different story. She was the only sweet teacher at Highland and our dorm mother. And of course there was James. Royal guards are honored with special funerals for their service and I’m sure it would be nice, but it wouldn’t bring him back. Or take my guilt away.
Whitmore took over Professor Forsyth’s classes so he’d be able to monitor the situation at Highland directly. He also put a guard in Professor Allan’s place. Alana or Professor Conrad—the blonde female guard who escorted Mac, Jason, and me from the attack in Florida—seemed nice, but she was no Monica Allan.
Classes were scheduled to resume tomorrow, throwing my stomach in knots. I was bound to get curious glances and questions like last time. Why was I the one to always stumble on dead bodies!
Mac convinced me to stay the night in his room, well there wasn’t much convincing.
I trudged to my room for a few things before heading to his. Something on my bed caught my attention and I halted. A cute little lap dog with perfectly coifed golden hair and a blue collar was sitting in the middle of my bed, staring at me.
Awe. He’s so adorable. I’m assuming it’s a he because of the blue collar—totally sexiest I know.
I reached out to pet him, but suspicion sank in and I pulled up short.
Wait a minute.
My eyes narrowed. He blinked innocently up at me with watery eyes, waiting for his fur to be stroked.
Demy.
I planted my hands on my hips. “Very funny Demy.” I shook my head. “I’m not falling for that crap again.”
He yelped, but remained in dog form.
“Fine. Stay that way.” I turned and started stuffing pajamas and snack food—my appetite returned—into a small bag. Out of habit I reached for my Lone Star Burger Shack hoodie until I remembered it was ruined. My favorite hoodie was shredded in the middle, rendered useless.
I sighed. At least it died saving my life from a vicious undead vampire.
Demy barked again.
I spun around. “I don’t speak dog Demy. If you have something to say change into something I can understand.” He stared at me, oblivious to my words. I huffed and turned back around. “You are such a pain sometimes.” I shoved a package of Twizzlers into my bag. “You know, just because you and Mac are friends again doesn’t mean you can sneak into my room. Besides, I don’t think it’s a good idea. What if someone else sees you like that? They might try to keep you.” I tossed the bag onto my bed, causing him to stumble and hit his cute little face. I snorted on a laugh. “And I’m pretty sure pets aren’t allowed in here.”
“Who the hell are you talking to?”
I whirled around with a yelp to find Demy leaning against the doorjamb with his studded brow arched and a crooked smirk on his face. He was wearing tattered jeans and a Nine Inch Nails t-shirt that fit snug over his chest.
“You.” My eyes bounced from him to the dog still perched on my bed. I pointed to it. “I thought that was you.”
He scoffed and leaned off the door, slinking toward me. “I would never shift into that kind of dog.”
“You were a little kitten a couple weeks ago.”
He plopped down on my bed and brushed his inky black hair from his face. “Cats are cool and sneaky.” He petted the dog anyways. “This thing’s purpose is strictly to prance around and keep girls’ laps warm.” His studded brow rose again. “On second thought maybe I should try this on.”
I rolled my eyes. “So he’s a regular dog, not Jared or Adalynn?”
“Nope. Just your regular, run of the mill pet.” He scratched behind his ears. “How come you didn’t ask if it was Vera?”
I laughed and zipped the bag closed. “Vera would never be something so primped and cutesy.”
“But Jared would?”
I shrugged. “Maybe.”
Demy rolled back on my bed, his laughter deep and silky. “I’ll be sure to tell him you said that.”
I playfully punched him in the stomach. “You better not.”
“Or what?” he asked, snatching my hand out the air.
I giggled. “Or I’ll tell Mac you’re flirting wi
th me.”
“We had a conversation about that.” He reached out to snag my other hand, but I pulled away at the last second. “He’s cool with it as long as I don’t try to kiss you.”
“V.H.!” Paisley popped her head in the door and froze when she spotted us. “Oh-um. I’m sorry.”
Demy released me and sat up, smoothing down his messy hair. My cheeks burned at what she was probably thinking about us.
She pointed to the bed. “That’s my dog.”
Surprise lifted my brow. I figured Paisley more of a Doberman or pit bull kind of girl.
The dog jumped over Demy as she reached to pick him up. Paisley stood awkwardly. “Aspen told me to wait for her here. Is that okay?”
I shrugged. Why was she being so weird and non-confrontational? Why was she being the epitome of the un-Paisley?
She perched on Aspen’s bed with V.H. wriggling on her lap.
“So Paisley,” Demy began, purposely deepening his Russian accent. “What’s V.H. stand for?”
“Oh, um, Van Helsing.”
His studded brow shot up along with my pulse. Was it a coincidence Paisley named her dog after a monster hunter?
“Van Helsing, like the hunter?”
“Well, I kind of have a thing for Hugh Jackman.” She picked V.H. up, studying his face. “He didn’t really strike me as a Wolverine or Logan.” She smiled softly. “So I went with Van Helsing.” She turned him toward us. “He looks like he could be a demon killer, right?”
Demy smirked. “Oh yeah. I’m shaking in my boots.”
We all laughed, but Demy and I were the only ones who got the real joke.
Chapter 26
Whitmore stood in front of our American History class in dark, tailored slacks, a black shirt and gray cashmere sweater on top. His midnight hair was neatly combed—unlike Mac’s—and his gray eyes were commanding. The differences between Professor Forsyth and him were so apparent I thought I walked into the wrong classroom.
The vampires and shifters were nonplussed, but the humans didn’t know what to make of this elegant, debonair man that was now our teacher. Their eyes were wide, staring forward while they sat stiff and straight, detecting the power emanating off him.
