by J. N. Colon
He cleared his throat and pointed on the board behind him. “You can call me Professor Davenport.” His voice flowed out smooth and authoritative. “I’ll be filling in for Professor Forsyth indefinitely.”
Most of the humans shifted uncomfortably it their seats.
“Of course I’m sure some of you will probably slip up and call me Whitmore.” He motioned toward Mac. “Or dad. Or pop quiz tormenter.”
A few laughs echoed around the room.
A crooked smile twitched his lips that reminded me of Mac. “Some of you might even call me Professor McGood-looking.”
The girls giggled and Mac rolled his eyes.
“Dad,” he groaned.
“See what I mean.” He walked toward Mac and ruffled his hair. “But let’s try to keep it Professor Davenport.” He flashed me a wink as he strolled back to the front of the class.
Some of the humans began to relax, their eyes no longer wide and unblinking.
Good way to break the ice Whitmore, I thought. Mac’s dad was usually so serious it was nice to see his light-hearted side.
Since Professor Forsyth was RIP most of us took the liberty of rearranging our seats. I sat in the middle with Mac behind me, Demy in front, Vera on one side and Brant on the other.
Whitmore balanced on the edge of his desk. “Any questions?”
Aspen’s hand shot up. “Professor McGood-looking—oops I mean Davenport.” It was obvious she slipped up on purpose, sending several girls into giggling fits. “Will you be following the same lesson plan as Professor Forsyth?”
His brow arched, but he didn’t reprimand her. “No. I’ve got my own. I think you’ll find I have a very different teaching style than your former professor.”
That was a relief because Professor Forsyth’s style had me close to failing. My hand shot up. “Whit-uh-Professor Davenport?” I stumbled over the name. It sounded so foreign to me. I’ve called him Whitmore since I’ve known him. “Will the last test we took count?” My face pleaded with him.
“Yes.”
The class groaned in unison.
“Awe come on Rubi. It can’t be that bad.” He flipped open Professor Forsyth’s grade book, stopping at my name. He winced at my grade.
“See.” I didn’t bother being embarrassed. Professor Forsyth made the whole class privy to my test scores.
Whitmore’s gray eyes met mine with a fondness he didn’t share with most people. “Come see me after class for some extra credit assignments.”
I was hoping that was a cover and he would just bump my grade up.
He dropped the old grade book and motioned toward the rest of the room. “If anybody wants extra credit stay after class today.”
Damn. That meant he would actually assign me something. Probably half the class needed it.
He shot Aspen a narrowed stare. “Only serious inquiries Ms. Vanderguild.”
She batted her thick lashes at him, earning a jealous scowl from Brant. The class erupted in laughter.
The door creaked open and Paisley walked in, clutching a note. She passed it to Whitmore. “Sorry I’m late. I had an appointment.” She was completely unruffled by his intimidating presence. In fact she was as cool as a cucumber.
“Thank you Ms. Collins.” He motioned toward the desks. “Find a seat please.”
She nodded and took one in the very front.
My brow arched, curious. She never met him before so why wasn’t she initially intimidated like the rest of the humans?
“We actually need the bigger beaker.” Paisley pointed to the biggest glass container on our station.
I nodded and pushed the smaller one back. Somehow I ended up being Paisley’s lab partner in chemistry. What are the freaking chances? I knew what to do with the old Paisley, but this new quiet and thoughtful Paisley was giving me the creeps.
I was tempted to ask her why she wasn’t nervous of Whitmore, but the words never made it passed the tip of my tongue.
At least she knew what she was doing in chemistry. I on the other hand had no idea. The only thing I retained from my other school was you always add acid. That’s it. Chemistry relies heavily on math and formulas. I suck at math and I suck at chemistry—accept the chemistry between Mac and me.
Yum.
The lab was the brightest classroom at Highland with several overhead lights glaring down on our black topped tables. Each of us had a pair of clear protective glasses and a black apron over our uniforms. My crazy mane was brown today and tied back in a messy bun on the top of my head. Regardless of what chemicals we were using I didn’t want to chance melting my hair off. Mac seemed to like it.
“How much H2O are we supposed to measure?” she asked.
I glanced down at the lab sheet, my goggles sliding down my nose. I pushed them back and suddenly felt like my father. “Five milliliters.”
Paisley made sure the barrette holding her bangs was secure before bending down to eye level and measuring to the correct line on our graduated cylinder. “Perfect.” She motioned toward the table next to us. “If you don’t get eye level like those two your measurements are bound to be screwed up.”
I nodded with a forced smile. “Good to know.”
She poured the water into the beaker and pushed the cylinder out of the way. She paused and adjuster her goggles, hesitating over something. Finally she cleared her throat awkwardly. “You know Rubi,” she said, chewing on her bottom lip. “I’m really sorry about how I treated you last time.”
I think hell just froze over. Or maybe pigs are flying. My gaze flickered toward the windows to check.
“Um… I um…” Words utterly failed me and I wasn’t even sure if I believed her.
She held up her hand, stopping my weird sputtering. “It’s okay. You don’t have to forgive me or even believe me.” Her cobalt eyes didn’t waver. “I just wanted you to know.”
I silently nodded.
“I’ve done a lot of thinking the past few months and I was such a bitch to a lot of people, especially you. I was jealous and I’m sorry.”
“Okay.” I only said it to stop her from talking.
“Really?”
“Sure.”
A long breath of relief blew out her mouth. “Good. I’m glad I finally got that off my chest.”
I nervously looked away and in the process knocked a small glass beaker off the table. I could have saved it with my heightened reflexes, but I already felt self-conscious in front of Paisley.
I expected it to shatter on the tile floor. Instead, her hand shot out and grabbed it mid-air.
My sharp intake of air echoed between us, stunned at her quickness. Her dark eyes were shadowed in secrecy as she gingerly placed the beaker on the table.
“That was impressive,” I admitted, glaring at her suspiciously.
She shrugged and repositioned the glasses on her face. “I-um played a lot of ping pong in the—in the hospital. It was killer on my reflexes.”
So she really was in a nut house. Maybe she’s taking medication to calm her bitch side.
“Cool,” I said returning to the lab guide to read our next step. I massaged the sudden tension in the back of my neck. Something about Paisley was definitely different.
***
Today was Mac’s seventeenth birthday. He refused any kind of party. Everyone understood why. The anniversary of his mom’s death was a few days away. I hated his birthday always brought sad, anguished feelings for him.
Even though he didn’t want a party I didn’t think he’d mind a private one between us.
I lured Mac with the pretenses of hanging out in our secret room in the attic. When we came around the last stack of boxes candles danced hypnotically, lighting the room in golden hues. A small chocolate cake Aspen got for me since I wasn’t allowed off campus—at least not without an army of vampire guards— was on the coffee table along with a bottle of champagne courtesy of Brant. Soft blankets and pillows were laid out on the rug with a present in the middle. Demy sneaked in and l
it the candles for me like a nanosecond ago.
Mac stared at the scene with a stunned expression.
I bit my lip nervously when he remained silent. “Are you mad?”
His eyes melted into warm pools of green. “Mad? Of course not Rubi.” He leaned down and brushed his lips against mine gently. “I’m assuming this is for the two of us.”
“Yep.”
He smiled and grazed the pad of his thumb across my cheek. “Then this is the best birthday party ever.”
Anxiety dissipated from my pulse. “Good.” I took his hand and pulled him toward the blankets. “I thought our secret place was perfect for tonight since I doubt anyone would look for us here.”
He gathered me in his arms when we sat on the floor, nuzzling my neck. “Sometimes I think it’s not possible to love you more than I already do and then do something like this and prove me wrong.”
His words sent tendrils of warmth through my body and made me want to sink into him forever. I kissed his cheek. “Want to open your present first?”
“Sure.”
I moved away and pushed the rectangular object wrapped in silver toward him. My heart danced with excitement. I’d put a lot of thought into his gift and even had it authenticated. I prayed he didn’t have a copy already.
With a grin he ripped open the paper to reveal an antique hardback book. His grin turned into awe as he handled it carefully and cracked the cover. “To Kill a Mockingbird.” His index finger glided over the copyright page. “It’s a first edition.”
I bit my lip and nodded. “I checked the books in your room over the break. I didn’t see this one… do you have it?”
“No. I don’t.” Mac clutched the book to his heart for a moment then gently placed it on the coffee table. He gathered me in his arms and pulled me against his broad chest, hugging me tightly. “I love it Rubi. Thank you.”
Happiness soared through my insides and I reveled in the feel of Mac’s embrace. My home. “I’m glad.”
“Best birthday present ever.”
I laughed against him.
“See what I mean?”
I shifted back and peered into his face with a questioning expression.
He grinned. “You just upped how much I love you, again.”
I smiled. “Just wait. The night’s still young.”
His jade eyes flashed with silver, sending warm tingles through my bloodstream.
My arms rested on Mac’s chest while my gaze traced his sharp cheekbones, sensual lips, dark inky lashes, and mesmerizing eyes. His hands gently rubbed circles on the small of my back, spreading warmth with each stroke.
“Remember the first time we sat in this room together?” I asked, testing him.
A soft smile melted his lips. “I came here to stew in my depression when I caught you crying. It broke my heart to see you so sad, but I was also happy to find you here. I’d been fascinated by you for weeks. I stared at you all the time and suddenly you were right in front of me.”
My cheeks flushed. Oh, he was good. “I was right in front of you the whole time. You could have talked to me whenever you wanted.”
“I know, but I was an idiot.” His fingers massaged deeper. “When I sat on the couch I purposely sat close just to touch you.”
My brow arched. “Really?”
He chuckled. “Yeah. You have no idea how much I fought to restrain myself. I was afraid I’d lose it and kiss you.”
“You should have. I would have gladly kissed you back.”
Desire plunged through Mac’s jade eyes, darkening them. His hands slipped under my shirt, slowly traveling up my back. “I was a goner the moment I laid eyes on you Rubi McHale. You’re all I think about.” His voice had deepened, spreading goose bumps across my flesh. “I even dream about you.”
My lips barely touched his and sparks instantly ignited between us, awakening our bodies to one another in ways I didn’t completely understand. But it wasn’t unwanted. No. It was mysterious and exciting.
Our shirts came off. Our pants were soon to follow. Everywhere Mac touched set my entire world on fire. His hands and lips explored me and I wasn’t shy about tracing the curves of his muscles either. We were both swept up in a whirlwind of longing and need. There was so much passion behind each kiss my heart wanted to explode. My body craved his. But it was also craving something else and that same instinct was rippling through his.
We couldn’t share blood like I wanted to. I wouldn’t wake up human. We could postpone the inevitable for a little longer. But it was his birthday. He deserved something.
I rolled Mac over until I was on top, tracing my mouth with his. His fingers played with my bra strap, tugging it down to savor my bare shoulder. While he was distracted by my flesh I slid my tongue over one of his canines, stroking his fang out.
Shocked, he pulled back. “Rubi, we shouldn’t…”
“Shush.” I pressed a finger to his mouth. “It’s just a little birthday gift.”
Silver flecks melted through his eyes and his body trembled with anticipation and hunger. He was probably right—we shouldn’t—but at this point he wasn’t going to stop me. He couldn’t.
A slow, victorious smile split my lips as I kissed him, slipping my tongue across his fang. I pressed against it and with a quick sting drew blood. Mac gasped and his hands tightened on my hips. My hot blood dripped down his throat as a deep, pleasure-filled groan resonated from him. His tongue slid across mine, lapping up my life elixir. And then he sucked my tongue.
Holy shit.
Fires ignited deep in my belly, coiling tight and I moaned against his mouth. Everything swelled inside me, throbbing erratically. I never knew something so simple could be so sensual.
When Mac pulled away his heavily-lidded eyes were pure silver, face deeply flushed and mouth swollen. “Best. Birthday. Ever.”
Chapter 27
I was warm, comfortable, and content so I found it extremely annoying when someone cleared their throat. Several times.
Behind me Mac finally shifted to see who was disturbing us. “What?” he grumbled.
“Damn. I was hoping to catch Rubi naked.” Demy’s voice, laced with a Russian accent, floated above us.
A growl vibrated through Mac’s chest. “Keep that crap up and I’ll suck you dry.” He turned back to me and nuzzled my neck. “How did you even know where to find us?”
“Who do you think lit the fifty million candles for your little romantic rendezvous?”
I groaned. I had been hoping to keep that a secret. “Sorry,” I mumbled. “I didn’t want to catch the place on fire. And I thought maybe at least one person should know where we were in case of an emergency.”
“That was probably a good idea,” he admitted, tightening his arms around me. “What do you want Demy?”
“Whitmore wants you.”
It was Mac’s turn to groan. He reluctantly slipped his arms from around me, pulling down his t-shirt I wore to cover me.
I rolled over. “Can’t I come?” I asked, my voice sleepy.
Demy shook his head. “He wanted to speak to Mac alone. It’s not a vampire thing. It’s a father son thing.”
“Oh.” I shrank into a ball under the covers, feeling the loss of his heat.
He leaned down and kissed me, stroking his thumb across my cheek. “You’re adorable when you pout.” He kissed my dimple. “I’ll call you when I’m done.”
“Okay.”
He tugged on his jeans and then pointed to Demy. “Let me get that t-shirt on top.”
A scowl crossed Demy’s face. “No. I’m wearing it.”
“You’re wearing two.”
“Wear your own damn shirt.”
Mac pointed toward me. “She’s wearing it.”
His lips twitched, threatening a wicked smile. “I know. She can take it off.”
“Uh—that’s not happening,” I said, looking up at the two of them.
Demy rolled his eyes, but he failed to hide the humor in them. “Fine.” He
removed his black Metallica t-shirt and tossed it to Mac, leaving him in a white undershirt that was tight against his sinewy muscles. He pointed a finger at Mac. “You better give that back. It’s one of my favorites.”
Mac scoffed as he slid it over his head, hiding the expanse of pale, ripped torso. “Please. Like I want to be walking around in a Metallica shirt. Plus it’s too small.” He smirked. “I’m bigger than you.”
Demy gave him the finger.
With one more dazzling smile over his shoulder Mac disappeared behind the stack of boxes.
I sighed and turned on my side, my eyes drifting shut. I hope he comes back soon.
A body was suddenly snuggled against mine on top of the covers. I turned to see Demy lying in Mac’s place. “What the hell are you doing?”
He shot me an innocent expression. “Me? I’m just keeping you warm until Mac returns.” His arm went around my waist, molding me against his body.
I elbowed him in the ribs and scowled.
“Hey. What gives?”
“I don’t think Mac would appreciate you cuddling with me, especially when I’m half dressed.”
His lips twitched and that studded brow lifted. “How do you feel about it?”
“Demy,” I warned.
A full-fledged smile crossed his handsome face. “I knew it. You want me to stay and cuddle with you.”
If I was being honest with myself I wouldn’t necessarily mind snuggling with Demy—in a strictly non-sexual way. We had this weird connection that made me want to be near him.
But if the situation was reversed and Mac was snuggled up to some other girl I’d be seeing red.
“You should go Demy, seeing as you can’t keep your hands to yourself.” I shifted on my back and his hand slid off me.
He pressed his forehead against my temple. “What about my head? Can I touch you with that?” His warm breath blew against my cheek.
I pushed his face away with my palm, laughing at his expression. “Don’t even pretend there wasn’t some perverted hidden meaning in that.”
