by J. N. Colon
I froze. “W-What are you talking about?”
A sly, knowing smile split her lips. “He stares at you a lot. One day when she confronted him about it his face got all red and he brushed her off.” Aspen’s amber eyes surveyed my reaction. When I remained silent she continued. “That’s why she freaked when she saw his sweater on your bed and his jacket in your closet.”
My face didn’t need the blush she applied anymore.
“You two know each other, don’t you?”
“No way. That’s crazy,” I lied. Sweat beaded across my palms and I nervously fumbled with the edge of my skirt.
She arched an auburn brow, satisfaction playing across her face. “Um-hmm.”
I opened my mouth to deny it, to say something, but words failed me.
“There,” she sang as if the previous conversation never happened. “That’s much better.”
“Thanks.” I turned in the mirror and ran a hand through my unusually tangle-free hair. Why was Aspen being so nice to me? Has my ice princess roommate thawed?
I suppressed a snicker, thinking it was more likely someone compelled her to be nice.
“Rubi, don’t you need your French workbook?” Madison’s brow furrowed as she watched me.
We were headed to French class and sure enough I had my English book instead. I shook myself. “Sorry. I guess my mind is somewhere else.” It sure was—murders, unrequited love, and vampires.
“Hey,” Madison prompted, a layer of excitement lighting her expression. “I heard Sutton left Highland.”
Here we go again.
“Word is her parents shipped her to some boarding school in Europe to be near them.”
“Oh?” I shut my locker and pretended to be interested in my French workbook to hide my grimace.
A group of senior boys sauntered by, whistling at Aspen and her circle of friends. Tristan—the only vampire—shook his head behind their backs with an exasperated expression. His gold hawk eyes suddenly found mine watching him and he winked.
Familiar paranoia set in as I watched his white blonde spikes disappear around the corner.
Madison gripped my arm, yanking my attention away from my suspicions. “Doesn’t that seem weird to you? Sutton leaving like that?”
I shrugged, thinking it sounded like a perfectly possible explanation.
“It just sounds a little fishy. No one even saw her leave.” A dark, hungry gleam entered her eyes—an expression I’d seen on her once before.
I swallowed hard and forced a laugh I hope didn’t sound fake. “You think something happened to her and the school is covering it up?”
Something about her own laugh that followed sounded off. “Of course not.” She shook her head, clearing her expression. “I think I’ve been watching too many conspiracy theory movies. You know like that one with…” She abruptly stopped, her gaze darkening at something behind me.
“What?” I turned to see a tall, striking man with midnight hair and gray eyes talking to Emmaline, Tatum, and Mac. He wore a dark, tailored suit and an air of importance surrounded him like a second skin. There was something strangely familiar about him. “Who…?” But the answer suddenly coalesced. The man was Mac’s father. Whitmore Davenport. The headmaster had called him.
“It’s Whitmore Davenport.” Madison’s voice was riddled with icy and sounded unfamiliar to my ears. “He’s like the richest man ever.” She purposely smiled to melt the coldness.
Tatum and Emmaline glided away and now the man’s attention was solely on Mac, both their expressions serious and eyes intense. They were probably talking about the murders, but they weren’t huddled in a corner whispering like one would expect. Instead their gazes flickered around every few seconds to make sure there wasn’t an audience.
I wasn’t surprised when Mr. Davenport’s gray eyes landed directly on me. The surprise came from the way they widened as if he recognized me.
My heart thumped wildly in my chest. His gaze wasn’t mean or cold—just knowing.
Before I could grab Madison and dodge around the corner Mac followed his father’s gaze and met my eyes. That electric charged sizzled between us—up and down my spine—and I clenched my teeth to hide the shiver.
Mr. Davenport’s dark brow arched as he looked between his son and me, something unreadable flashing through those steely gray eyes.
I broke away from Mac’s star and grabbed Madison, dragging her around the corner with a squeak.
***
A tear escaped my eye and I watched it drop to the cold stone step I was perched on. Night had fallen across Highland, blanketing the campus in darkness and I stumbled upon that same staircase I found on my first day. And here I was crying again.
So many things had happened since that day and yet I was just as lonely as I was then. The one person I felt this inexplicably strong connection to rejected me. Mac and I kissed and he claimed it was too dangerous to be together. It wasn’t too dangerous for him to date all those stupid snobby girls so why was it any different with me?
My thoughts wandered to what Headmaster Norrington said—that I was different—questioning if something was wrong with me. There had to be a reason I couldn’t be compelled by the vampires.
My bottom lip quivered and my face wrinkled, a fresh set of tears on the horizon.
“Rubi?”
Startled, my gaze flickered up to see Jackson peeking around the corner, his face anxious.
“Are you okay?” he asked, walking toward the stairs with a basketball in one hand.
I nodded, hoping the remnants of my tears weren’t so visible in the dim lighting.
He pointed to the spot next to me with warm eyes. “Can I sit?”
“Sure,” I mumbled, fidgeting as I remembered the last time we were this close alone. I almost let him kiss me—until Mac interrupted.
He sat the ball on the other side of him. “I heard what happened with Professor Forsyth the other day.”
My cheeks flushed at the memory.
“I was wondering why he was so flustered during my class.” A gentle smile broke across his lips. “His face was beat red and I thought steam was going to shoot out his ears.”
A soft chuckle slipped out my mouth, picturing the crotchety old man with smoke oozing from his ears like a cartoon character.
He nudged my shoulder. “I knew I could get a smile out of you.”
“Professor Forsyth uncomfortable in any way would do the trick,” I said, a little less somber. I sighed and leaned against the wall to look at him. His face was flushed and auburn hair tousled while that band of fading freckles was more prominent than usual. “Practicing?” I motioned toward the ball.
“Yeah. Just a little bit by myself.” He grinned. “The invitation for you to come is still open.”
“Oh really?” The image of him attempting to flirt with me in the gym flickered through my mind.
He gently nudged my knee. “Of course.”
“Maybe I’ll come next time.” It might get my mind off more depressing topics.
Jackson’s round, whiskey colored eyes heated several degrees. “I’m glad I found you. There’s something I wanted to do.”
My brow furrowed. “What?”
His head bowed, throwing his auburn brown locks in his face. “This.” Jackson leaned forward, heading straight for my lips…
I tensed and unconsciously moved a hair’s breadth away, surprised by his bold move.
He froze and surveyed my face—probably seeing wide, freaked eyes and an opened, shocked mouth—before leaning back. “Sorry,” he muttered, his cheeks reddening as he spoke. “I guess it’s Mac then.”
My head snapped back, stunned at his words. “No. I mean what? Mac who?” I lied, sputtering like an idiot.
Jackson’s face turned incredulous. “The way he acted in the hall the other night when we were together wasn’t because I was in the wrong dorm.” He shook his head. “He was jealous.”
I wrung my hair in my hands, my skin turning hot
and I had the distinct feeling of a deer in headlights. “That’s crazy. I don’t even know Mac.”
“I’ve noticed the way he looks at you.” Jackson averted his eyes and began picking at the fraying end of his blue shirt. “And he’s been looking really tortured since you stopped returning those looks.”
“Really?” I blurted.
Jackson nodded, a bitter smile spreading across his face. “He definitely likes you.” He sighed, crossing his arms against his chest. “And you definitely feel the same.”
Guilt burned my cheeks and I looked away, unable to stand his sweet, honest face when I was a big fat liar. “There’s nothing going on between us,” I insisted. Mac made that very clear after we kissed. “We aren’t together or anything and we’ll never be.” My voice unexpectedly cracked and I felt embarrassing tears stinging my eyes.
My teeth gritted against the onslaught of sobs that wanted to tumble from my mouth. How pathetic was I? I was getting choked up over a guy who didn’t want me in front of a very sweet guy who did.
“I doubt that Rubi.” Jackson dragged his fingers through his hair, mussing it up more. “I’ve been going to school with Mac for two years and he’s always had shallow, superficial relationships with girls who were—well shallow and superficial. He meets you and suddenly things aren’t so easy. I think he’s just scared of actually having something real, something that could hurt him.”
The words Mac said after we kissed came back—it would be different with you. It would be real with you. Could big strong McCollum Davenport really be scared of getting hurt?
“I don’t think it’s that simple,” I admitted to him and myself. As much as I wanted to believe it was because of his ego or fragile heart it felt like there was something else holding Mac back. Maybe there was a whole other secret about him I didn’t know.
***
I woke up at 12am after dreaming about trees, mist, and a crimson moon that drenched everything in an eerie red glow. I sleepily rolled out of bed, thankful for once to be in a dorm with a private bathroom. I didn’t bother turning on the lights as to not wake Aspen even though she wouldn’t have been so considerate. The bathroom light briefly blinded me, but it was still better than stepping into the cold hallway in my tiny shorts and tank top.
When I was done I shut off the light and opened the door, walking out into pitch darkness. On the way to my bed I slipped on something slick and went sprawling on my back.
“Hey! What are you doing Rubi?”
“I slipped.” I groaned, struggling to stand. “What did you spill?”
“Nothing,” she insisted, annoyance lacing her sleepy voice.
“Just cut on your lamp so I can get up.”
Click.
I really wished she hadn’t cut it on.
Red…red…red everywhere.
Thick scarlet liquid covered my hands and splattered my legs. My eyes followed a dripping trail to a puddle of it oozing from my formerly dry bed. Then it was up on the wall next to my bed. Written in red, dripping letters was…
Does it smell tasty yet?
Somehow I knew—without a doubt—it was blood.
Our screams ripped apart the quiet night.
Chapter 26
Aspen sprinted out the room without bothering to wait for me. Emmaline appeared within seconds, her thin body tight with tension. When she saw the words scrawled on my wall and saw me drenched in blood her azure eyes widened. I hadn’t looked in the mirror, but her expression was enough to make me avoid it at all costs.
She ran to me, her vigilant eyes darting everywhere too fast to follow. I didn’t realize how bad I was shaking until I tried to explain what happened, my teeth chattering so hard I could barely speak.
“It’s okay Rubi.” She squeezed my shoulders gently.
Tatum appeared beside Emmaline, her strawberry blonde hair messy from sleep. Her small hand covered her mouth as she gasped at the blood coating my side of the room. “Why would someone do this to her?” she asked, her cherubic face a mask of confusion and worry.
The other girl shrugged just as confused.
Professor Allan marched through the door. “What is all the commotion…?” She stopped dead, her face turning a pale shade of green. “Who would…?”
“She’s coming to our room,” Emmaline told her and I had the feeling she was using compulsion. “I’ll get her cleaned up.”
Professor Allan nodded.
“Tatum, fill her in and meet me back in our room.” Emmaline grabbed my hand, ignoring the slick blood and led me into the hall where wide-eyed students stood. Their gasps echoed like a domino effect, but Emmaline quieted them with one harsh look.
Emmaline cleaned me up in her bathroom, washing off the blood. She spoke, but nothing she said sank in, her words gibberish to my fragile mind. I was fixated on the scarlet blood washing away in the sink, contrasting brilliantly with the white porcelain. Thankfully she never tried to hypnotize me. I couldn’t take that crawling sensation without screaming. Tatum returned to the room with a pair of my shorts and a tank top.
When they were done with me I sat on Emmaline’s bed, pulling my feet against my chest, my wet hair dangling in my face. I hadn’t said one word since leaving my room, my thoughts analyzing what had happened.
Only a vampire could have been so quick and quiet while I was in the bathroom. I instantly ruled out Emmaline and Tatum, unable to see them doing something so heinous and horrifying. It had to be Brant or some other unknown vampire.
But I couldn’t understand why they would think I’d like the smell or taste of blood.
A sudden rapt on the door startled me and I watched Emmaline gingerly open it. I shivered a millisecond before Mac appeared, his face hard and jaw tight as he struggled to keep his composer. When his eyes met mine hot anger and a ferocious protectiveness shimmered in them.
“Mac?” she asked, confusion lingering in her tone.
He ignored her and crossed the threshold, heading for me. “Rubi, I’m so sorry.” He encircled me in his strong arms, pulling me against his chest.
That was when I lost it, sobbing against his shoulder as he held me on Emmaline’s bed. The terror and sadness of the past few weeks poured out with my tears. I’d been teetering on the brink of a meltdown since finding Alyssa’s body and my emotions finally reached a climax. The images of my blood covered bed and the cryptic letters on the wall flashed through my head, making me shake harder.
“I’m here now Rubi. It’ll be okay.” He rubbed my back and stroked my hair. “No one will hurt you again. I’ll make sure of it.”
“Why?” I muttered between broken sobs.
Mac pulled back, confusion creasing his forehead. “I’m not going to stand around and let someone hurt you. Tonight was a serious threat and…”
“No. I mean why are you here?” I wiped my face with the back of my hand, my lips trembling. “You said we couldn’t… no one is supposed to see…” My gaze flickered toward the two girls who were lingering in front of the bathroom, watching us with shocked expressions. I swallowed hard. “I mean you didn’t have to come inside the room.”
Hurt flashed in his jade eyes and he took a deep breath. “When I heard what happened I couldn’t stand it. I had to see you. I had to know you were safe.” He squeezed my arms just to make sure I was okay.
My brow rose, silently questioning him, wondering if he really thought his actions through.
Mac made a face and motioned toward Tatum and Emmaline. “It was never about them. It was about your safety. And now that someone has threatened you I don’t want to leave your side.”
My cheeks blushed from the intensity of his voice, but his words didn’t actually mean he wanted to be with me for any other reason than my protection.
“Unless you don’t want me here.”
Panic simmered deep in my chest and I grabbed his hand that was still clutching my arm. “No. Stay.”
A sigh of relief flittered from his mouth and his body visibly relaxed. He
leaned his forehead against mine, his warm breath blowing across my face.
We fell asleep together, Mac holding me in Emmaline’s bed while the other two girls shared Tatum’s. My safety and comfort were apparently more important to Mac than the dorm rules or what anyone else thought.
Yay for me.
Sometime during the night I awoke to him and Emmaline whispering. It was hard to pay attention to their words while snuggled up against Mac. My head rested just below his collarbone, pillowed against his chest. His heady, woodsy scent clouded my mind and one hand was splayed against my upper back, burning my bare skin.
“How did you end up with Rubi McHale?” she asked, her voice merely curious.
“I dunno,” Mac replied. “It just kind of happened.” His free hand began twisting in my hair, spreading tendrils of warmth through my scalp.
“But you freaked out on Brant when he brought her to the party. And you’re right. She isn’t one of them.”
“I know.”
“There’s a reason we choose those snobby elitist teenagers. They won’t ask questions if things get strange or they black out. As long as they’re part of the inner circle they’re content. Rubi’s definitely the kind of girl who will ask questions.”
“I know,” he repeated, his tone growing agitated.
“You can’t compel her personality. She’ll want to know you.”
“I know.” Mac took a deep breath to calm the turmoil I could almost feel raging beneath the surface. “I like her.”
“Obviously.”
“No I mean I really like her. A lot.”
I attempted to keep my heart from bouncing out my chest with pleasure.
“Seriously?” Shock laced Emmaline’s voice. “You do?”
“Yeah. It’s real.”
“Wow Mac.” She breathed. “That’s big.”
Why was it such a big deal?
His hand was still in my hair and the other was tracing patterns on my back, quickly stealing my focus and lulling me to sleep. “I don’t want to keep secrets from Rubi. And I want her to know me—all of me.”
