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Bound (The Grandor Descendant Series Book 3)

Page 14

by Stoires, Bell

“-that’s why I booked you a lesson and not an exam. You’ll be fine love,” he said, squeezing her hand. “It’s the same as driving in Australia, and you already have a license to do that.”

  “Yea, except we drive on the right side of the road,” Chris supplied, just as Ragon glared at him.

  “Where’s Ryder?” asked Ari, hoping to break the tension.

  “Probably saying goodbye to Glenn,” Patrick said gruffly, looking once towards the bar and then back down at his feet.

  Ari scanned the crowds around the bar. Her eyes traced the various people indifferently, until she double took at a girl standing in the shadows of the bar. Ari had only seen the silhouette of the black haired girl out of the corner of her eye, but there was something familiar about her, something which sent a shiver up and down Ari’s spine. By the time Ari pulled her head back to examine the girl more closely however, she was gone, and standing in her place, glaring at Ari was… Bridget? Ari locked eyes with the beautiful blonde vampire. Bridget’s eyes were narrowed and then a small smile swept across her face. Picking her drink up from the bar, Bridget moved outside to where Ari and the coven were sitting.

  “Ragon,” said Bridget, sweeping over to him and kissing him once on the cheek, “have you had a chance to look over our reference list yet? Our presentation was amazing and I think we have a chance of being published.”

  Though she didn’t say it aloud, probably because Lea and Chris were there, Ari knew Bridget was referring to the scientific journal called V.A.M.P.I.R.E. Clyde had told Ari about it when they had been traveling to the Pasteur Institute. It stood for Varied Applied Myths Practices In Recent Eras.

  “Err, not yet,” said Ragon, looking knowingly at Chris and Lea. “What with the, err, you know, recent dramas, I’ve fallen a little behind. I haven’t really done anything since the seminar.”

  Bridget pretended to look disappointed, flinging her hands dramatically onto her hips as she clucked her tongue.

  “No problems,” she said finally, leaning down low so that her top hung loosely in front of her chest, revealing the top of a black lacy bra, “how about you come back to mine tonight? We could um, you know, catch up… for old time sake? Maybe get some of that reference list done too?”

  Though it was clear that Bridget was trying to keep her voice low, Ari had heard every word, and she along with Sandra stared at Ragon incredulously.

  “Not tonight,” said Ragon, quickly taking a loud gulp of his drink.

  “Well,” said Bridget, now moving away from their table, “if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

  The moment that Bridget had walked away, both Sandra and Ari rounded on Ragon.

  “What the hell was she talking about?” asked Sandra.

  “Yea,” said Ari, who had been about to ask the same question. “Old time sake… what does that mean?”

  Ragon glared at Sandra and then looked at Ari, his eyebrows high on his forehead. He paused as he chewed on his words and then he spoke.

  “A very, very long time ago,” he said slowly, “Bridget and I-”

  “-what!” exclaimed Sandra, standing to her feet in exasperation and cutting Ragon off before he could continue.

  “It was decades before you were even born,” said Ragon, ignoring Sandra as he turned to face Ari and reached for her hand, which she immediately withdrew.

  “But… what about Kiara?” asked Sandra, trying desperately to be included in the conversation.

  Ragon growled. He was looking at Sandra with such obvious hatred that Ari felt herself shiver.

  “They were friends,” said Ragon, once again directing his conversation to Ari, plainly wishing that the two of them were alone. “Bridget and Kiara were friends and one night…”

  “You had a threesome with Bridget and Kiara?” said Sandra, “Talk about no taste.”

  Ari was thinking the exact same thing. Her mind was fuming with insult after insult, wanting desperately to know that what he was saying wasn’t true. The thought of Ragon being with Kiara was both disgusting and heart breaking, but the fact that he had been with Bridget too? Suddenly Ari felt claustrophobic; like she didn’t know Ragon at all. How could he have ever thought lustfully for what were arguably the two worst people in the world? The thought made her head swim and she felt sick, like the mere mention of either of their names would be enough to force her dinner right out of her stomach and onto the floor.

  “It wasn’t like that,” said Ragon, shaking his head slowly. “I love you,” he added, looking up at Ari.

  Ari averted her eyes, too disgusted to look at him. Then two large boots approached their tablet and Ari looked up to see an older man.

  Patrick sprung to his feet, saying, “Mark? Is it really you?”

  “I thought that there must be a coven around here somewhere,” the man replied. “I just caught one of my officers and a vamp in the back room. They seemed to be enjoying themselves immensely, but I had no idea you would be here.”

  Unlike Bridget, this man seemed to assume that the humans sitting at the table knew about the existence of vampires. Ari wondered if it was because he hadn’t seen a stamp on hers, Lea’s, Riley’s and Chris’s hand, or if it was simply because the four of them were sitting with vampires, and assumed that they were sources.

  “Everyone, this is Mark Green,” said Patrick. “I’m his fledgling!”

  “That’s Cornel Green now,” Mark corrected, shooting a wink at Patrick.

  Ari, who was still deep in thought, looked up at Mark Green, instantly recalling that she had seen him before. He had been glaring at her from across the room while she talked with Ryder and Glenn the last time they had gone to the campus club. But there was no trace of malice in Cornel Green’s face now; he was smiling ruefully at Patrick, his eyes almost greedy as he breathed in every part of his fledgling.

  “What brings you to the Pasteur Institute?” asked Mark, leaning in closer still to Patrick.

  “My fledgling and I thought it might be nice to study with our friends,” Patrick explained, indicating the rest of the group.

  “Fledgling?” Mark asked, touching his hand to his chin in consideration. “His name isn’t Ryder, is it?”

  “That’s him. Why? He hasn’t been causing trouble, has he?” asked Patrick, laughing heartily.

  “Oh no, quite the opposite; he’s been rather enjoying my crew. In fact, I caught Corporal Glenn sneaking out to see him on more than one occasion since we have been here. I would have reprimanded Glenn but I saw the bite marks and figured he had fallen in with a vamp,” said Mark.

  “Well, thank you for your discretion,” said Patrick, turning with slitted eyes to focus on Ryder, who was walking out from the bar and towards them, a dopy eyed sailor trailing behind.

  “Who wants another drink?” asked Ryder, grinning broadly at the group when he reached the table.

  “I think you have had enough for the rest of us,” said Patrick, his expression looking hurt.

  “Huh?” said Ryder, moving closer to Patrick, who took an equal distance away. “What’s wrong?”

  “Why don’t we ask Glenn?” said Mark, moving over to the Corporal, who immediately saluted him.

  “At ease,” said Mark. “Tell me Glenn, now you’re not going to get into trouble, but have you been carrying on with this young man in a manner unbecoming of an officer?”

  Glenn gulped loudly and hung his head.

  “What?” Ryder said, turning to face Glenn and shaking him slightly. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m sorry Ryder,” said Glenn, reaching out to hold Ryder’s hand, “I don’t want to lie about us.”

  “But there is no us,” Ryder exclaimed, looking down at Glenn’s hand in confusion, before his large blue eyes fixed on Patrick imploringly.

  “How could you?” said Patrick, backing further away from Ryder and then turning around, racing for the exit.

  “Patrick, wait!” Ryder yelled after him, but before he could race after Patrick, Mark pu
t a hand on Ryder’s chest. “Maybe you should let him cool off for a bit.”

  Ryder made to push Mark aside but Mark grabbed his hand and threw him into a chair at the table, whistling dully as he did so. Ryder was standing back on his feet a second later, but by the time he looked up, both Mark and Patrick were gone.

  “What the hell just happened?” asked Ryder, looking around at the remaining stunned faces at the table.

  That was a very good question. In the space of a few minutes, Ari had discovered that Bridget and Ragon had a past, and that Ryder was cheating on Patrick. Talk about a slap in the face. Not wanting to think about her first problem, Ari focused instead on Ryder.

  “What’s been going on with you and Glenn?” she whispered.

  “Nothing!” he replied.

  “Well then, why would Mark say that Glenn was sneaking out to see you?” she asked.

  “That’s bullshit,” said Ryder, his voice angry. “This is the first time I have seen him since last week, and I wasn’t sleeping with him… I just took some blood from him. Who the hell is this Cornel Mark Green anyway? How does he know about vampires?”

  “He’s Patrick’s maker,” said Ragon, his voice slow and tired.

  “I have to go find Patrick and explain,” Ryder said, before racing away.

  For a moment Glenn stared after Ryder but then shrugged, walking back over to the bar where a few sailors were shotting a thick green liquid, which Ari thought looked horribly like absinthe.

  “So,” said Sandra, leaning in to take Ari’s arm, “Ragon, are you going to tell us what the hell happened between you and Bridget?”

  “Sandra, mind your own business for once,” yelled Ragon, and Sandra stood suddenly, quickly followed by Thomas.

  “Don’t talk to her like that,” said Thomas, and he glared at Ragon.

  “Yea,” said Ari, standing also. “It’s not Sandra’s fault that you decided to keep this from me.”

  Ragon looked imploring up at Ari, but she turned away from him.

  “I’m going back to my room,” Ari said to no one in particular, trying to keep her voice calm as she walked away.

  “Ari, honey,” said Sandra, racing to catch up with her, “you want some company walking back to your dorm?”

  “No, it’s ok. I think I just need a moment to cool my head.”

  All the way out of the club, ferocious images of Ragon and Bridget forced their way into Ari’s mind. Why would Ragon keep this part of his past a secret from her? He must have known that she would find out eventually. For God sake, Bridget lived with him in Cruor halls, hell she was his thesis partner. Then a truly horrible thought rushed at her, causing her to stop dead in her tracks. What if it was more than just a one night fling a century ago? What if Ragon had been with Bridget since they had come to the Pasteur Institute? She shivered as she thought about this. All the late night study sessions the pair had shared together, preparing for their thesis, and the way that Bridget had leaned in so intimately to speak with him.

  When she was walking past Cruor halls, she sensed someone behind her and spun around to see Ragon. She had been expecting him to follow her, but still had no idea what to say to him.

  “I’m so sorry Ariana. I never meant for you to find out about Bridget this way. Are you mad at me?” he asked, looking at down at his feet.

  Ari considered his question. Was she mad at him? Yes, but was it fair? Well, that depended on whether or not this was just some stupid mistake he had made in his past and not wanted to tell her about, or whether it was something that was still going on and he was deliberately hiding from her.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked.

  “I, I…” Ragon stammered, his eyes glancing nervously around the heavily shadowed path, “can we talk about this back in your room?”

  “No. Were you ever going to tell me?”

  Ragon looked down at his feet and said, “I wanted to. It’s just… I didn’t want to hurt you.”

  “You should have told me.”

  “I didn’t want to-”

  “-hurt me,” she said flatly.

  Ragon nodded dumbly.

  “Well it’s a little too late for that,” she said, pushing past him as she moved in the opposite direction.

  “Wait,” he said, reaching for her hand.

  “Don’t,” she said, shaking her head as she pulled her hand free of him.

  Ari walked away, still shaking her head, her anger boiling to the surface. It was only when she squinted and saw the club in the distance, that she realised her fight with Ragon had spun her around, literally. She wanted desperately to go back to her dorm room, but not if that mean crossing paths with Ragon again. With her head held high, Ari stormed back towards the club, thinking that at the very least she could have a drink to help wash away the bitter taste in her mouth, and perhaps even drown out the image of Ragon and Bridget together.

  When Ari walked into the campus club, she was relieved to see that Chris was still sitting at the table outside. Walking first purposefully towards the bar, she ordered herself two drinks, downed one of them then moved over to Chris.

  “Is it Monday already?” said Chris, winking when Ari sat down, already half way through her second drink.

  “Huh?”

  “When you left, you said you would be seeing me on tomorrow... you know, for our pathology rotation.”

  “Oh, right,” said Ari, sucking on a piece of ice in her mouth.

  “Are you ok?”

  Ari stared at Chris blankly. She was rewording her sentence in her head and at the same time, appreciating the buzzing feeling her first drink had imparted.

  “It’s just, Ragon,” she said, now crunching down on the ice cube in her mouth. “You heard what I found out.”

  “Yea, I’m sorry. It must be a bit of a shock, but, is it something that happened a long time ago or something that has been going on?”

  “I don’t know,” said Ari, angry that she hadn’t asked Ragon this when she had spoken to him outside.

  “Oh well-”

  “-I don’t really want to talk about it,” she said quickly, cutting Chris off; thinking about Bridget and Ragon was making her feel sick again.

  Six rum and cokes later, Chris finally had to resort to dragging Ari out of the campus club.

  “No wait,” she slurred, “I want to dance with Peter and Pip.”

  “Trust me, I am doing you a favour. Come on,” he added, reaching for Ari and pulling her away from the dance floor, much to Peter, Perry and Pip’s annoyance. “You’re going to have a killer headache and you have your driving lesson tomorrow, and we have our first day of our amazing pathology rotation. Remember? I think I should take you back to your dorm.”

  “You know, Ragon only booked,” she started to say, but hiccupped loudly, “booked me in for that lesson, because he didn’t want you driving me around the campus. What a joke,” she hiccupped again, “especially seeing as he has probably been-”

  “-Ari don’t. You’ve just had too much to drink.”

  “Me?” asked Ari, her hands on her chest as she stared at Chris incredulously. “I’ve only had like one drink.”

  “No. You’ve had like six drinks.”

  “Yea, but they were only small drinks,” she said, swaying as she spoke.

  “Come on, back to Omega with you.”

  Ari stared at Chris, her mouth slightly open, but then she allowed him to direct her away from the club. The pair was half way back to Omega halls when Ari tripped on something and fell down. At least she thought she tripped on something, in truth she may have simply had one to rum and cokes and simply lost her balance.

  “Jesus,” said Chris, dropping to his knees and joining Ari on the damp grass. “Are you alright?”

  Ari coughed lightly then let small tears run down her face. Was she ok? No. Not even a little bit. How could Ragon do this to her?

  “Ari, you just need to give it some time,” said Chris, gently brushing the grass out of her face.
“You only found out about this tonight. I’m sure there is a perfect good explanation for why-”

  “-time… I don’t have time Chris! Vampires live forever and I, I’m a human. Maybe, maybe I’m not supposed to be with a vampire. Maybe I am supposed to be with someone normal.”

  Without realising it, she let her hand rest near Chris’s, so that their fingertips kissed in the wet grass.

  Chris looked down at her hand, then back into her eyes. Ari felt her head spin as her face flashed hot. Chris leaned towards her, closing the distance between them, so that when she breathed in, all she could smell was the sweet scent of his deodorant.

 

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