by Sofia Daniel
She turned to someone over my shoulder. “Hey, knocker? We’ll get rid of the wax and replace it with a henna rinse, so she doesn’t look like someone’s melted a box of crayons over her head.”
My shoulders sagged, and I made my way to the sink next to Zarah’s, where a blank-eyed servant had already turned on the hot water.
I closed my eyes and clenched my fists, enduring the ministrations of the silent woman.
If I were to guess, the word knocker came from the old Nosferatu movie. There was a Renfield character called ‘Knock,’ who became the vampire’s slave. My knowledge of Bram Stoker’s Dracula was sketchy, having read it years ago, but I think the vampire had put the madman under some kind of thrall. The knocker massaged my scalp with practiced skill, but I couldn’t relax, knowing that the woman was a slave.
As Micalla chatted with Ponytail and Pigtails violated Gates against his will, I learned that Ponytail was called Lava and Pigtails was Kush, and their parents ruled the Minor Council of the Indian subcontinent. I closed my eyes and blocked out the political talk. All I needed was information on vampire weaknesses and an escape route from this academy stronghold.
After the knocker towel-dried my hair, she moved me to a hairdryer and then to a swivel chair, where Micalla stood in front of the mirror and swept my hair into a high chignon held in place with chopsticks. She tilted her head to the side and pulled out tendrils of hair to cover my face, ears, and neck. Then the stupid bitch slathered on layers upon layers of makeup, so I looked like a fucking rag doll, complete with penciled-on eyelashes stretching down to my cheekbones, enlarged freckles, and circles of blush on my cheeks.
The gong sounded, and Micalla rushed to the door. While her back was turned, I picked up a wipe, but Ponytail grabbed my hand.
“Don’t be a stupid cow,” she said in a bored monotone.
I yanked at my arm, but her grip remained as strong as velvet-covered steel. “Let go, I’m—”
“Anyone defiant in the clutches of a stronger opponent is a fool. Smile like a doll, get it over with, and we’ll all return to classes.”
I let my arm go limp. Ponytail was right. Without knowing what I was doing, acting against that psycho was both dangerous and foolish. Micalla stood at the door, probably listening to Ponytail’s warning, but she appeared too preoccupied with watching the students walk through the hallway.
“Oh, Dante?” she cooed. “Come here for a second.”
My jaws clenched, as did every muscle in my entire body. What did Micalla want, now? I’d already told her I had no interest in the Stryx Brothers. She didn’t need to cause further shit between us.
Micalla stepped aside, and Dante walked in with his hands in his pockets. The bright lights of the beauty room brought out his golden complexion and made his cool, blue eyes appear translucent.
He cast his haughty gaze over the room. “What am I supposed to be looking at?”
My stomach tightened with a mixture of shame and dread, and the taste of copper invaded my tongue. Prickly heat traveled up my neck, and I practiced Mom’s breathing exercises to stay calm. It didn’t matter that I’d been made up like a tacky doll or that Micalla had brought Dante in to witness my humiliation. I had no intention of hanging around.
Micalla gave him a playful swat on the arm. “I’ve just finished Alicia’s makeover. What do you think?”
Raphael stuck his head in the room, a lock of copper hair falling into one of his forest-green eyes. His eyes widened a fraction, and then he schooled his expression into a frown of concentration. “Nice brushwork. Were you going for the Matryoshka doll look or drunken Barbie?”
A laugh caught in my throat, and I pressed my lips together.
“I wasn’t asking you,” Micalla snapped. She turned and placed a hand on Dante’s broad chest. “What do you think of our new frumosi?”
Dante studied my features with a coldness that seeped into my marrow. After a moment, he curled his lip and said, “It doesn’t matter how much makeup you put on her. She’s still a sow.”
Micalla threw her head back and laughed.
“Ooh, burn!” Pigtails said from atop a squirming Gates.
Humiliation burned through my veins and heated the skin of my cheeks. Hot, angry tears stung the back of my eyes, and a sob caught in my throat. Dipping my head, I stared into the fists clenching on my lap. I couldn’t explain why. I hated these vampires and had no plans to ingratiate myself to them. Their stupid barbs and opinions shouldn’t matter, yet somehow, they’d pierced through my heart with the precision of a carving knife.
By the time I raised my head and turned toward the door, she had pinned him against the wall, stuck her tongue down his throat, and clawed at his broad chest. Dante didn’t participate in her one-sided passion. Instead, his cold eyes remained on me.
Micalla hadn’t been joking when she had said Dante belonged to her. From the fury in his posture, even I could tell he wasn’t happy with this arrangement.
I snatched my gaze away. Whatever was happening between Dante and Micalla was no concern of mine.
Chapter 6
Micalla gave me a hard squeeze on the shoulder that I interpreted as a warning to stay away from Dante, and then she sauntered out of the beauty room with the twins. The vampire guard unbuckled a defeated Gates from his restraints and walked him out of the room, leaving Zarah and me alone with the two dead-eyed servants.
I stood in the middle of the room between three sets of mirrors and sighed. What kind of insecure idiot gets hurt feelings by monsters? By definition, they hurt people. It was their modus operandi, their raison d’ être. Making me up like a stupid doll and calling me a sow was a thousand times more preferable to a set of fangs in the neck.
Ducking my head, I shot Gates a guilty look. What he had suffered was so much worse.
Zarah sat in the swivel chair next to mine. Behind her, a knocker added the finishing touches to a style that looked the same as the one she’d had this morning—long, straight, and dishwater blonde.
She gave me a shy smile. “I thought you looked nice. They did an amazing job with me.”
My chest tightened, and a lump of pity formed in the back of my throat. What had Nathaniel done to Zarah? Before, she was terrified, but now she seemed to be content with ingratiating herself to the vampires. I didn’t know how to help her. And I wasn’t sure if I could risk telling her about my plans to escape tonight in case she informed one of the vampires.
Leaning forward, I snatched a wad of wipes. “Remember earlier, when Micalla said Dante was hers? I’m not sure Dante agrees with her, and she set this up to make him hate me.”
Zarah’s brows drew together, and she pressed her lips tight. I scrubbed at the crap on my cheeks and scowled. After what happened at breakfast, I couldn’t blame Zarah for her lack of reply.
“About this morning.” I placed the wipes on the counter. “Sorry that the attention fell onto you.”
She shrugged. “It’s no big deal to kiss a foot. They might like you if you do as they say.”
I gulped and glanced away. Zarah had sat next to me in Miss Margolyes’ class when they had discussed hostile vampires. Even if she could no longer remember Micalla squeezing the life out of me last night, she had to have seen the guard hurt Gates over and over again. They were our enemies, not our benevolent protectors. I kept my mouth shut. Telling her this would only distress her.
One of the knockers, a short blonde with the usual lifeless eyes, picked up my used tissues and placed them in the bin.
“Sorry.” I gazed at the woman. “I didn’t mean to create more work for you.”
Without acknowledging my presence, she walked back to the sink, which was probably where she had been told to stand to attention. The other knocker sprayed a cloud of sheen on Zarah’s hair and also retreated behind the sink.
Zarah eyed the knockers. “Do you think they’re alive? The girl who fixed my hair couldn’t answer any questions about my split ends.”
“They�
�re probably in a trance.” I strolled to the door and pulled out my schedule. “Nutrition in the blue room. Without a map, I don’t even know what that means.”
We both walked out into the empty, darkened hall. Since the gong had long sounded, we didn’t have a chance in hell of finding our class.
“Should we ask Professor Proust?” Zarah’s voice echoed against the stone walls. “He seems to want us to succeed here.”
I winced. So, Nathaniel had erased the headmaster’s threats, too.
I shrugged, and we headed toward the grand staircase. It wasn’t like I cared if we’d be late for classes. As we passed the row of windows, a set of howls filled the air, making my skin prickle into goosebumps. If we could hear them all the way in the castle, the woods had to be infested with werewolves. Eventually, we reached the entrance hall, one of the few well-lit public areas in the academy. The chandelier’s diffused light made Dracula’s painting above the man-sized fireplace seem to give us as assessing look.
“Ladies?” asked a smooth voice from behind.
With a jolt, I turned around, but no-one was there.
“Over here.” Raphael stood before us, wearing a massive grin of blunt teeth. The chandelier light cast pretty patterns on his pale skin and brought out the marigold highlights in his copper hair. Pale, barely-there freckles spread across his nose, making him appear almost human.
I snatched my gaze away and stared at the painting of Vlad the Impaler, reminding myself exactly what kind of person stood before me.
“You seem lost,” he said. “May I be of any assistance?”
“No, thanks.” My fingers closed around Zarah’s wrist, and I walked around him, ignoring his warm, woody scent. Raphael’s presence seemed to fill the space behind my back. Whether this was because of an extraordinary vampire power, I wasn’t sure, but my my heart pounded, and the fine hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.
“It’s not safe to roam the hallways between classes.”
I narrowed my eyes and fixed my gaze on his earlobe. Anything to avoid getting sucked into these mesmerizing green eyes. “Is that because you’re prowling them?”
“Amongst other reasons,” he murmured. “Allow me to escort you to the blue room.”
“What do you want in return?” I pulled Zarah close.
Raphael tilted his head to the side and gave me a crooked smile designed to make a girl’s heart melt. If I hadn’t known he was a blood-sucking vampire, I would probably mirror his movement and expose my neck, which was precisely what he wanted.
When his blood-gaining tactics failed to achieve the desired effect, he said, “The satisfaction of knowing you survived your first day at the Sanguine Academy of Vampires.”
A chill ran down my spine, and Zarah whimpered. I let out a bone-weary sigh. “Fine.”
Raphael held out his elbow in the way gentlemen do at the movies, but I ignored the offer. His smile faltered for a millisecond, then he straightened and strode down a different hallway.
As we trailed after him, I took stock of my surroundings. Along the left side of the passageway hung leaded windows consisting of small panes of glass held together by lead dividers. They faced a courtyard garden with a moon-lit statue depicting a man and woman locked in an embrace. The glass probably had a UV-filter that made this area safe to walk through during the day.
Raphael opened a door on the right, which led to a darkened stairwell lit by stout candles in crystal wall sconces. He turned around and smirked. In a deep, sexy voice, he asked, “Do you think you can handle being in an enclosed space with the big, bad, vampire?”
Ignoring the ripple of pleasure skittering down my spine, I raised my chin and walked through the door. “You don’t scare me.”
Raphael ascended ahead of us. His low, throaty chuckle told me he hadn’t meant to scare me and that his words and voice had achieved the effect he had wanted all along. I pursed my lips and followed him up the stairs.
We followed him through another darkened hallway, and he stopped at a door the same as every other and inclined his head. “The blue room.”
Zarah and I exchanged a glance. What if this was some kind of ambush? With an amused huff, Raphael knocked on the door and pushed it open to reveal a classroom filled with humans.
The teacher, a balding, middle-aged man wearing a knitted, white sweatshirt and jeans, smiled. “There you are, girls. We were about to send out a search party.”
“Now, do you trust me?” Raphael placed his warm fingertips on the back of my arm.
This time, I didn’t flinch. “Sorry for being rude. And thank you for the escort.”
Zarah mumbled her thanks and scurried into the room.
I was about to follow her when Raphael grabbed my wrist. “One more thing.” He yanked out the chopsticks, letting my hair tumble down to my shoulders, then he pulled it back and twisted it into some kind of arrangement at the top of my head. “You’re infinitely more beautiful with your hair off your face.”
Heat burned my cheeks, and I stared into his beautiful, green eyes. Up close, they weren’t the solid shade of forest green I’d initially imagined. They were the color of pine leaves, with fern striations and tiny flecks of amber. The entire intoxicating mix was edged with a green so dark it was nearly black. His pupils dilated, narrowing his irises into a thin ring.
My stomach dropped, as did my gaze. Never look a strange vampire in the eyes for more than a fleeting second. “Thanks.” I stepped into the blue room and muttered, “But I have class, now.”
Our teacher introduced himself as Chris Sparrow, the bond mate of the academy administrator. I studied his eyes for the blankness of the knockers but found none. He was an average man in his late-thirties, who talked about his vampire mistress like she was his wife.
“We usually study a few foods in-depth during our classes, but for the benefit of the newbies, we’ll recap what we’ve learned so far.” He walked to the whiteboard. “We group food into four categories: blood builders, blood enhancers, blood thinners, and blood repellants.”
I raised my hand, excitement thrumming through my veins. “What’s a blood repellent, sir?”
“Foods that make your blood unpalatable to vampires. It’s a defense often used when a vampire is required to bring their human or frumosi mate to the home of a more powerful vampire.”
My mouth fell open. “What?”
“It’s related to an old vampire hospitality rule. Entering the home of a superior vampire temporarily surrenders ownership of any objects the inferior vampire possesses.”
“So, the mate can be passed around like a party favor?”
His lips thinned with disapproval. “This is why the mate eats the repellants. They’re foods most likely to upset a vampire’s digestion.”
While I pulled out my notebook and pen from my satchel, Mr. Sparrow asked the class to list popular foods and where they went in his four categories. I surveyed the list of repellents: onions, garlic, coconut, turmeric, ginger, cloves, peppers, and apple cider vinegar. Until I made my escape and even afterward, these would form the staples of my diet.
“Any questions?”
I raised my hand. “Sir? How do enhancers work?”
“They’re foods that will make your scent more enticing to vampires. Particularly useful during the courtship process. Not all foods have the same effect on all vampires, but it’s best to stick with the ones you would normally eat so that you can attract a compatible mate.”
He pointed at a small list that contained foods rich in sugar, dairy, and carbohydrates. Apparently, vampires liked victims with a sweet tooth.
Gates harrumphed at the back of the class. “I’d rather eat shit than become someone’s dinner.”
The vampire who had brought him into Miss Margolyes class cuffed him in the back of his head, and a few of the girls shot him filthy looks. Folding my arms across my chest, I gave my head a minute shake. Gates was the only person in this room talking sense. No sane person wanted a bloodsucker of a
ny kind on their necks, let alone with the drinking capacity of a human.
I raised my hand. “How much can a vampire drink in one sitting?”
“Depending on their age and size, four to six pints,” replied Mr. Sparrow.
“How much blood does a human have?” I shot back.
His brows drew together. “Nine to twelve pints, depending on size.”
I leaned forward, staring into the older man’s eyes. “And how much blood can a human lose before it’s fatal?”
He folded his arms across his chest. “Miss Stephens. I realize that discovering your status as a frumosi is a major shock, but you have to consider the alternative. Becoming the consort of a vampire is preferable to a bullet through the head. It’s also better than being kept by hunters for their sick experiments.”
“Wait—what?” I blurted. Why would vampire hunters want to kill us?
“I’d rather die,” Gates roared from the back of the class. “Let me out, and I’ll face my chances!”
My heart thrummed a fast beat. “Gates is right. None of us had any choice in coming here. It’s not fair that we’ll end up used for a vampire’s food and breeding.”
A few people in the back of the class mumbled. It looked like Gates and I weren’t the only ones unhappy with our predicaments. I turned around and shot my new ally a triumphant smile.
“Who’s with me?” shouted Gates. “If we all—”
The vampire guard punched Gates in the back of the head, slamming his face into the table. “Silence!”
Everyone, including me, flinched.
The guard stalked around the perimeter of the room, breathing hard. Until now, I hadn’t examined his face, but he was the crimson-eyed vampire who had snatched me from the Velvet Lounge bathroom. “I’ve never seen such a group of ungrateful wretches in all my existence.”
I held my breath and tried to stay still. Once again, I’d pissed off the vampires, only for someone else to receive the punishment. My string of questions had been designed to get Mr. Sparrow to admit how easy it was for a vampire to kill a human by feeding on them, but I’d forgotten about that guard.
