by J. N. Colon
Demy grinned. “How do you know me so well?”
“You’re just so easy.”
“That I am.” He rolled to his back, but kept his violet eyes locked on mine. “I seriously can’t leave though. Not unless you do.”
My brow arched questioningly. “Why?”
“Mac asked me to stay with you.”
“When?” They didn’t mention anything like that before Mac left and my hearing is sensitive right now.
Demy winked and tapped his head. “We don’t need words to communicate.”
I huffed and crossed my arms against my chest. “I don’t need a babysitter. There are plenty of guards and other vampires roaming around. All I have to do is scream if I’m in trouble. I’m sure someone will come.”
His expression turned incredulous. “Yeah ‘cause that worked out so well last time.” His hand gently rested on the left side of my abdomen where barely visible scars from the undead vampire remained. “Mac doesn’t want to take that chance.” His violet eyes scorched into me, his face serious. “And neither do I.”
It took me a moment to find my voice under the intensity of his gaze. “Well, when you put it like that…”
Heat radiated out from his hand through the blankets and Mac’s shirt. Demy’s brow arched. “Are you sure you want to become a vampire princess and be with Mac forever?” His Russian voice dipped low and sounded incredibly sexy.
My heart shivered and cheeks flushed. “Yes,” I whispered without any doubt in my mind. Demy was smokin’ hot—and maybe there was some attraction between us a little more than friendship—but my heart and body belonged to Mac. “And you’re supposed to keep your hands to yourself.”
Demy grinned. “You can’t blame a guy for trying.”
***
The following evening Whitmore had us over in his campus suite for dinner. Of course he had a campus suite. He was a vampire king and Highland Academy was vampire territory. Dark wood and opulence encompassed his living quarters like the rest of the school, but anything with Whitmore was a touch above the rest. There was a full gourmet kitchen with granite counters and stainless steel. A small dining room was off to the side and a living room on the other. A bathroom was down the hall with his bedroom at the end. The suite smelled like leather and Whitmore’s spicy cologne.
No one mentioned it, but we were well aware this was a birthday dinner for Mac. I couldn’t blame Whitmore for wanting to celebrate his only son’s birthday. Mac was just not in a place to rejoice over anything because tomorrow was his mother’s death anniversary.
A somber mood weighted the night the moment we arrived.
We were served lobster bisque for an appetizer, shrimp salad, beef wellington for the main course, and a chocolate lava cake for dessert. This was a dinner I normally would have devoured, but the tension in the room had my stomach in knots.
We sat at the round table in the dining room, pushing around our dessert instead of eating. Whitmore attempted lite conversation in the beginning. Now the only sound was the clanking and scraping of our silverware against delicate china.
Whitmore unexpectedly laid down his fork and cleared his throat. “Well, McCollum, I know you said not to, but I couldn’t resist.” He reached over and grabbed a navy wrapped packaged from the next seat, handing it to Mac with a somber smile. “Happy birthday.”
Mac glared at his father, his jaw clenched as he breathed deeply through his nose. “Dad, you know how I feel about my…”
Whitmore cut him off with a wave of his hand. “Open it please. What’s done is done.”
He sighed and ripped open the paper, revealing a shiny wooden box. Inside was an antique Rolex watch. I didn’t know much about jewelry, but this thing had to cost a fortune.
“Turn it over,” Whitmore said, his gray eyes lighting with excitement.
Mac pulled it out and ran a finger over the inscription on the back, Rubi & Mac with an infinity symbol below.
Oh wow. He was seriously trying to score points with his son. “That’s really nice Whitmore.” I flashed him a smile. Mac hadn’t responded after several moment so I kicked him under the table.
“Hey,” he hissed.
I shot him a steely glare and raised my foot for another kick.
He rubbed the back of his neck while averting his gaze. “Thanks Dad. I love it.”
“You should put it on.” I snatched it out of his hand before he could protest and wrapped it around his thick wrist. His father gave him a very nice, thoughtful gift and he should appreciate it regardless of his mood. He didn’t need to make his father feel like crap.
“I’m glad you like it,” Whitmore said, picking up his fork to continue not eating his dessert.
I squeezed Mac’s arm before returning to my plate. And the awkwardness ensued. This had to be the longest dinner of my life. I felt horrible for Whitmore, realizing this was probably the same scene every year.
I shifted and fidgeted in my seat, finding absolutely no comfortable position. My cake tasted like sand and left a dry, bitter taste in my mouth. When the pressure in the room became too much to bare I blurted the first thing that came to my mind. “I had a dream about Miranda the other night.”
I can’t believe I did that!—and called her Miranda.
My face burned red with mortification and I slumped in my seat under the shocked gazes of the two guys in the room.
“What are you talking about?” Mac asked, his fork hovering over his plate. “When?”
Why can’t I keep my mouth shut?
My dry throat scratched as I swallowed. “I dreamed about her after I was attacked by those undead vampire things…” I trailed off as Whitmore’s brow rose.
What the heck did he call them?
I leaned over the table and played with my chocolate cake again. “In my dream they were chasing me. She appeared out of nowhere and called to me. I knew if I could make it to her I’d be safe. I knew she’d save me.” My voice grew barely audible as I recalled the way her ethereal form was like a beacon in the darkness. I only wish she could truly save me because that would mean she wasn’t dead. Mac would have his mother and Whitmore would have his wife.
“Of course she’d save you.” Whitmore reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “She never stopped thinking about you.” He motioned his chin toward Mac. “She knew you’d find each other again.”
Silence returned to the room, bringing along a choking heaviness. After several minutes a lump replaced the dryness in my throat. I dropped my fork and turned to Mac who was staring at his plate, unseeing. “Aren’t you going to say something?”
His brows knit and he gave a noncommittal shrugged.
He could be so stubborn!
Anger forced my mouth to move. “The anniversary of her death is tomorrow. You talk about her any other time. You can’t just clam up around your birthday. It’s not fair.” I pointed at Whitmore whose usual calm face held shock at my outburst. “You still have a dad and he needs you now too. He should be able to celebrate the birth of his only kid.” I clenched my jaw to fight the hot tears threatening my eyes. “And it’s killing me to see you like this.” I finally slumped in my seat as if my little eruption cost me all my energy, leaving only petulant pouting behind.
Hey, I can’t always be held responsible for my angry explosions. I am on the emotional rollercoaster of slowly changing into a vampire.
An eerie quietness lingered in the dining room while Whitmore and Mac exchanged secret glances.
Finally Mac sighed and scrubbed his face with his hands before raking them through his hair until his midnight strands were sticking every which way. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you Rubi.” His haunted jade eyes met mine, sending slivers of pain through my chest. “I should be stronger for you. You’re the one going through all these changes because of me.”
I groaned, guilt twining its thick way through my insides. This was about his father more than me. I motioned toward Whitmore. “This is a hard time for you
r dad too.”
Whitmore shook his head and pushed his plate away. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. You are Mac’s first priority now. You should always come first.”
I scoffed. “It’s not like we’re married or even engaged.”
A ghost of a smile twisted Mac’s lips. “Yet.” He winked.
My mouth nearly hit the table and cheeks burned hot. They both chuckled at my reaction.
Mac sighed. “But you are right.” He gripped the bottom of my chair and slid me over until his arms wrapped around me. “I can’t do this every year.” He laid his forehead on mine. “I’m sorry Dad.”
Whitmore waved off his apology. “It’s okay. I know how tough your mother’s death was on you. You are allowed…”
Mac held his hand up in the air, stopping his father. “It’s no excuse. You lost her too. I can’t shut the world out like that.” His eyes flickered toward me for a moment. “I’m going to have a lot of responsibilities in the future and I can’t withdrawal for a couple days every year.”
“Hey.” I squeezed his hand. “I’m going to be right there with you. They’ll be my responsibilities too.”
His lips twitched. “I know Rubi. Believe me I know.” He picked up our hands and kissed my knuckles while a secretive glint shimmered in his jade eyes.
Suspicion sank into my chest. “What are you…?”
“Dad,” he blurted, cutting off my sentence. “We should show Rubi some home videos of us.”
“Tonight?” His expression was stunned and a little freaked, which was a new one for him.
Mac’s face paled a shade or two. “Maybe not tonight.” He wasn’t going to get over the sadness of this time so easily, but at least he was trying. That’s all I wanted.
My stomach suddenly growled, my appetite returning with a vengeance. My cheeks flushed as Whitmore and Mac chuckled again. “What? I hardly touched my food.” My gold eyes landed on Whitmore. “Is there anymore beef wellington?”
He grinned and tossed his napkin aside. “I think I can make that happen for you Rubi.” He stood. “In fact I think we could all use another helping.”
When he disappeared around the corner I narrowed my gaze at Mac. “Are you up to something?”
A boyish grin lit his face. “Nope.”
Liar.
Chapter 28
I perched on the edge of the beach, the silver moon melting to red. The stars were crimson twinkling droplets of blood against the pitch sky. The sea lapping at my bare feet was tinted red.
Thirst tugged at my throat.
The emergence of Madison strolling down the shore alerted me this was a dream. She appeared normal with soft skin, dark eyes, and red and black choppy hair to her shoulders. She was dressed like a hunter in a black knit shirt, black cargo pants, and combat boots. A silver knife glinted from a holster on her hip.
“Lovely night for a stroll,” she said, stopping next to me, gazing out at the tainted ocean. “Rubi red.”
I sighed. “Cut the crap Madison. What do you want?”
A smile twitched her lips. “Some one’s finally getting it.”
“Yes. Thanks for all the vivid, horrifying nightmares just to warn me about those things.” I crossed my arms against my chest defiantly. “You could have come right out and said it.”
“What fun would that be?” She kicked a shell into the surf, spraying cool sand on my toes. “Besides, it’s your subconscious getting creative with my messages, not me.” She motioned toward the blood moon. “I didn’t create this crap.”
My lips pursed. If that was true my mind was seriously screwed up.
Madison turned to me, pinning me with her dark hunter eyes. “I have one more thing to say before I go.”
“What?”
“You don’t have it all figured out yet Rubi. There are connections you’re missing.” She caught a lock of red hair twisting it around her finger. “Don’t bleed too much.”
“What?”
“The dead don’t always stay dead.” She turned and started marching down the shore.
“That’s it?” I tossed my hands in the air in frustration. “That’s all you’re going to tell me?”
Her laughter echoed across the sand. “I am the enemy after all. Can you really trust me?”
My eyes snapped open, staring at the ceiling over my bed, darkness encompassing me.
Gees. I think I prefer the nightmares over this calm, cryptic dream. What connection was I still missing? And don’t bleed too much? What’s that supposed to mean?
A groan slipped out my mouth and I turned on my side, digging under the covers to find Mr. Bananas. Maybe it’s time to tell Mac about these dreams and the messages in them—especially since some of them turned out to be true.
If I did then I’d have to face what this meant, why I was receiving premonition type dreams. I’d also have to consider that they were becoming more frequent the closer I came to changing into a vampire.
I don’t know if I’m ready to travel down that road yet.
***
The spring dance was scheduled for tonight, but Roman cancelled it due to the animal attacks. Most of the girls were heartbroken, even Vera was miffed. I was thrilled not to have to wear a dress or heels or makeup or any of that other crap Aspen and Emmaline like to force me to do.
Instead I was hanging out in my room with Demy, trying to convince him to change into a lion.
“No way,” he said from his position reclined on my bed with his hands tucked under his head. “I got stuck as a lion once and it sucked. Zookeepers were after me.”
I stood over him with my arms crossed, pouting. “Come on. Just for a minute. I’ve never been up close to a lion.”
“Most people haven’t.”
I motioned a hand toward him. “Yes, but most people aren’t best friends with someone who can become one.” When he shook his head I plopped down next to him. “Pleeease. I want to see what one feels like. I just want to pet you.”
His studded brow arched and lips twitched. “Which part do you want to pet?”
My face twisted. I walked right into that one. “You’re disgusting!” I tried to hit him with a pillow, but he snatched it away.”
“Time to get dressed.” Aspen whirled into the room with a black hanging garment bag. She tossed it at me and sprinted to her closet.
“Get dressed for what?” I asked, barely catching the thing.
“For the dance silly.”
I shot Demy a questioning glance.
He threw his hands in the air. “Don’t ask me.”
Has Brant been going too heavy with Aspen’s blood? “Um, Aspen, the dance was cancelled.”
She looked over her shoulder and arched one perfect auburn brow. “Duh Rubi. I’m not crazy.” She whipped back around and excitedly riffled through her closet. “Some people are throwing a secret party/ dance.”
Oh no. “I gotta wear another dress?”
“Yep.” She motioned with her thumb. “Emmaline gave me that for you.”
I unzipped the bag, revealing a deep red number composed of lace.
“Nice.” Demy was leaning over my shoulder.
“Emmaline said Mac would love it.” Aspen dumped a stack of dresses on her bed. “Now, what should I where?”
Demy pointed to the pile of silk, chiffon, lace, beads, and sequins. “Wear that green one—the one with beads and all those strappy things.” He motioned over his shoulder.
Her amber eyes lit up. “You think?”
“Yep.” He lounged back on my bed. “I’m a guy. I know what we like.”
She flashed him a smile. “Thanks Demy. Now get out so we can get ready.”
Incredulity flashed across his face. “Awe come on. Why can’t I watch?”
She pointed toward the door.
His eyebrows wiggled. “But you girls might need help with zippers and undergarments and stuff.”
I scoffed and managed to get one lick with a pillow before he snatched it. “Get out.”
I grinned. “Thanks.”
Mac’s eyes ate me up the moment he saw me, desire and longing flickering in them. “You look stunning,” he breathed, immediately towing me toward him.
The deep scarlet dress was form-fitting with a modest neckline, but the lace allowed my skin to peek through at the top, teasing him. The red and black pumps made my legs appear long and lean. My hair was done in soft curls and pinned back in a messy bun with a red flower secured on the side. My eye makeup was soft and paired with deep red lips. Aspen said the look was very dainty and beautiful.
I couldn’t care less about my appearance as long as Mac liked it. I’m pretty sure he did.
“You look tasty yourself.” He was wearing black slacks and a blue collared shirt. His midnight hair was messy around his chiseled face and his woodsy sent intoxicated me.
He grinned and gripped my waist, tugging me into his body. “You’re always tasty Rubi.” His face nuzzled my neck as he chuckled deeply, sending vibrations through my skin. My cheeks flushed and heart fluttered.
After we danced for a few songs we took a break to grab a drink. The blood-filled glasses smelled so good it was overwhelming. I was relieved when Mac stepped away to talk to Corbin and Natalie so I could move toward the fireplace to distance myself from the smell.
My eyes roamed over the crowd, spotting Brant and Aspen slow dancing. He had a silly, lovesick grin plastered on his face while she rested her head on his shoulder. He was kidding himself if he thought Aspen was only a fun source of food. He liked her. A lot. Tristan and Adalynn were also dancing. I wasn’t sure of their relationship status, but they were together 95 percent of the time.
And then I saw another couple leaning against the wall talking. Vera and Jackson.
She brought Jackson down here!
A mixture of anger and fear coiled through my chest. He seemed to be in his right mind, but his whiskey colored eyes were slightly glazed, signaling the light compulsion he was under. My fists curled tightly by my side. I didn’t want his mind screwed with. I didn’t want him in danger and being connected to us—especially when there are crazy undead vampires walking around—was bound to get him hurt.
