by Marian Tee
* * * *
Heads turned the moment I arrived school on Monday. News of my arrest the other night had leaked, adding to my infamy. The girls’ gazes were contemptuous, but it was more a reaction to the hunger in the boys’ stares. I had been a violator, making me forbidden fruit in their eyes. Their lust made my skin crawl, but I did my best to hide it. No bad girl worth her salt would find it distasteful.
“Caylie, over here,” I heard my friends call out.
I hurried to them, relieved to have my girls surround me. With them, I felt like I had gained a respite from the waves of lust emanating from most of the boys I passed by. It was suffocating, the way they didn’t hide how they wanted to possess me for the sake of possession itself.
“It worked then?” Ever Ridgeway asked in a low voice. She was a petite brunette, with a penchant for beaded accessories. She was an It girl herself, being one of Internet’s most popular fashion bloggers—for Caros, that was. You’d be amazed with the cool tricks she has for hiding unbecoming blood stains on silk blouses. Also, her post last week—How to Hide Your Fangs When You Pose for Photos with Humans: Let Me Count the Ways—was still trending in Twitter.
I nodded.
“Are you sure he won’t see through your plan?” Sabina Xelios tugged her chandelier earrings as she spoke. If she tugged any harder, I was afraid she’d be tugging a piece of her ear off. Among the three of us, Sabina was the most practical, especially with middle-class Caros. They considered Thelma as their Financial Guru on YouTube, and tickets to her Get Bloody Rich seminars sold at hundreds of dollars each.
In Caro society, it was the norm for every family to had at least one semi-famous personality. Unlike other races, we preferred to hide in plain sight, which was why humans believed that Caros were an exclusive organization, something like The Illuminati of sorts, an open secret that was mysterious enough to make waves once in a while but not mysterious enough for people to want to dig deeper.
Humans thought they already knew all there was to Caros, and that was exactly what we wanted them to think, something we reinforced by having one member constantly in the spotlight. With all eyes on the better known member to humans, everyone else would easily fade into the background. It was like a sacrificial lamb led to the media’s slaughter, and in my family I was the lamb.
Since my dad had an important position in Caro economy and my mom was active in social welfare, it had been up to me to hog the limelight. At thirteen, I had already been gracing fashion magazines, rubbing elbows with celebrities, and dating actors and models once in a while.
We Caros were innately selfish, but we were also deadly serious about dying for our race. History books were our Bible and our race’s anthem was always #1 on our iPods. We were that loyal.
Once upon a time, the thought of our almost fanatical devotion to The Brethren had terrified me.
I had been afraid that if there ever came a day Luka would be made to choose between The Brethren and me, I would not have a chance of winning.
Of course now I knew the truth. Now, there was no longer a reason to be afraid.
Sabina snapped her fingers. “Helloooo? Caylie?”
I shook my head, not wanting to dwell on pointless thoughts. Luka might have been an angel when we were growing up, but it had been a mask. “Sorry—I was thinking of something else. What were you saying?”
“I’ve been hearing rumors about Luka,” she murmured as we made our way to class.
“About what?”
“It hasn’t been confirmed yet.”
Knowing Sabina, it meant she wouldn’t say another word until she was absolutely sure. So I let it slide, even though the way she avoided my gaze was disquieting.
Ever was frowning darkly. “I just hope he doesn’t leave you again.”
“If he does,” Sabina said, “I’ll tell everyone he has a small weenie.”
All three of us laughed.
“You’re crazy,” I told her even as I smirked at the thought. I might have never seen Luka completely naked, and I might hate him enough to kill him, but even I knew that couldn’t be true. Luka just wasn’t the type to have a small dick.
“I mean it,” Sabina insisted.
This light-hearted banter was one of the few rare things in my life that had remained unchanged since Luka left. The thought of losing their friendship unexpectedly struck, making me swallow hard. “Honestly, I wouldn’t have survived the past three years without you two.” Luka leaving me broke my heart, but these two—albeit never quite filling it—were able to paper over the cracks.
They had done their best to make me move on with countless slumber nights, clubbing parties, and endless phone conversations. Sometimes, they succeeded. Most times—I just hated.
Ever squeezed my hand. “May the odds be ever in your favor.”
I choked.
Sabina laughed. “Hunger Games, really?”
“Do you want me to quote Twilight, really?” Ever shot back.
We were still laughing by the time we reached the vending machine, which sold blood-laced caffeine drinks. It was a morning ritual of ours, and as I started pushing coins into the slot, Thelma asked, “When will you two meet?”
I didn’t answer right away, waiting until the Styrofoam cup was filled to the brim. I took a sip, using its heat to calm my blood. “Tonight.”
Chapter Two
Luka
44 Months Ago
Nails raked his back as he thrust in and out of her wet warmth, her sweet cries making his ears buzz. “Are you ready?” Luka rasped out.
“Please,” she gasped.
He clutched her hips and began driving into her harder, his heart beating faster at the way she screamed his name. When she locked her legs around his waist, he groaned, her sleek vaginal muscles tightening around his cock.
“Come now,” he urged her.
“I…I…”
“Come now!”
And she bucked, her body responding to the command in his voice as if it was all she needed to reach her pleasure.
Luka rolled to his back, opened his eyes, and cursed.
It was the same dream again and after all this time, he still hadn’t found her. He had fucked so many girls in the past fortnight but none of it helped him find out who it was dreaming of in that beautiful arousing dream—
“Good morning!” There was a quick knock before the door burst open and his fifteen-year-old neighbor-slash-pet Caylie sailed into his room.
Luka hastily pulled the covers up so that she wouldn’t see his still raging erection. “Caylie,” he growled. “How many times did I tell you to knock—”
Her eyes went wide. “But I did knock!”
“And wait for me to tell you to come in!”
“Oh. Sorry, I forgot.” But the way she was smiling impishly at him told Luka that she didn’t forget.
Luka sighed. “What do you want?”
“Somebody to drive me to school?”
His eyes bored through hers. “Caylie, you have an army of servants—”
“But they’re not cool like you, so please drive me to school? Please? I’m nervous.”
Luka froze. “Wh…” He cleared his throat. “What did you just say?”
Caylie frowned. “That I was nervous?”
“Before that.”
Caylie wrinkled her nose. “Really? I never thought you’d be so—”
“Caylie,” he gritted out even as his heart started to beat hard again, just like it had been in his dream.
And then Caylie was saying huskily, “Please?”
It was the exact same tone that the girl in his dreams had used when she begged him to make her come. He closed his eyes. This time, the girl was no longer faceless. This time, the girl had a name. And he was so goddamn fucked.
* * * *
Present Time
“Luka Georgiades is requesting permission to enter.” Alicia, one of the dozen of maids working for us, buzzed my room through the intercom phone that nigh
t. Alicia was also Caro, as were the rest of the staff. Humans rarely made it to Caro households. It was just too risky.
“Send him up. He knows his way.”
Luka’s knock came at exactly six in the evening, which didn’t surprise me. He had always been a stickler for punctuality.
"Come in." I remained in my seat, legs crossed, back relaxed against the velvet chair.
The door opened slowly, giving me ample time to prepare myself. But it was useless. The moment Luka entered, I knew it was just plain fucking useless. I could never be ready for this—this all-consuming hatred and yearning that threatened to drown me.
My heart broke at just the familiar feel of his presence, a deceptively quiet sense of power that could strike hard at any moment, like a snake with venomous fangs. My bedroom, which was colossal and lavish by anyone’s standards with its rich oak panels and purple and cream velvet accents, suddenly felt too small and too warm.
His shoes were the first thing I saw: hand-sewn beautifully stitched leather, un-branded because Luka wasn’t the type, and custom-made because he liked things perfect.
Swallowing, I let my gaze move up.
Formal gray pants—these were typical of Luka as well since he almost never wore jeans —not unless I specifically asked him to. And of course his suit jacket—I couldn’t remember a time he hadn’t been wearing a suit.
My gaze finally reached his face, and my heart crashed against my chest. Shit, oh, oh, shit, I had so not bargained for this!
Power was one of our greatest turn-on, attracting us like moths to fire, and right now, Luka’s tightly harnessed power—a force that pulsed and throbbed so strongly it was impossible to ignore—just made him the sexiest man alive in any Caro girl’s eyes.
Breathe, Caylie. It took several seconds before I could make myself look at him again. Gulp. Double gulp. Triple, quadruple—my throat stopped working with all the gulping I was doing, all intentions of being poised and unaffected in his presence thrown out of the window. Just looking at Luka had my senses reeling. The longer he stood there in waiting silence, the epitome of patience, like a freaking unshakably solid glacier, just made me want him more.
This was so not the plan.
He was just a year older than me, but now Luka felt centuries—millennia—older. What the hell had he been doing the past two years or so that he had become so powerful, so dazzling it was like he had swallowed an entire star and absorbed all its energy?
Beautiful would be a blasphemy if it were used to describe Luka Georgiades now. He was so much more than that, making me itch to cage him so I wouldn’t have to share him with anyone else. The bright locks of his hair, his pretty violet eyes, and damn it even wearing glasses just made him sexier. It made you want to be the only girl who could take them off.
“Hello, Caylie.”
I jerked at how cold his voice was, like we didn’t have history together. I knew he sounded like this with everyone—but not with me. He wasn’t like this with me before.
Luka wasn’t smiling either.
Oh, so now I didn’t even deserve a fucking smile, even one that was entirely faked?
I lifted my chin, saying just as coldly, “Luka.” I raised my glass to him in a mock toast, now half-empty with champagne with a little diabetic blood mixed in it. I had been drinking for over an hour now, hoping it would be enough to get me through tonight. “Welcome back.”
His lips tightened at my tone.
The disapproval in his face pleased me, but there was also surprise in his eyes, and a part of me was offended—had he actually expected I’d sincerely welcome him with open arms?
Luka’s gaze traveled all over me, staying almost uncomfortably long on the deep-V neckline of my black silk blouse and taking its time studying the length of my legs which the black-and-white polka-dot shorts flaunted.
I told myself I wasn’t bothered even though something hatefully familiar fluttered inside my stomach at his intense scrutiny. Since Luka left, I had never felt this way with any other guy.
“You look well,” he murmured finally. “How have you been?”
His use of small talk was something I expected, and I relaxed a little bit more. It meant I could stick to the plan. “Splendid.” I tried not to sound brittle as I answered him. “And you?” Slowly, I stood up, my lids drifting halfway closed as I took a sip. When I raised my gaze and lowered my glass, I saw it.
That glitter in Luka’s violet eyes was unmistakable, and wearing even the most opaque pair of eyeglasses would never be able to hide the truth in those eyes.
Like any Caro, Luka had perfect vision, but also like any Caro his eyes had an unnatural sheen to them, making his irises glow like gems. Most of us could do with contacts, but Luka’s was literally shinier, enough to temporarily blind humans without being safely buffered by those custom-designed glasses of his.
Glasses or not, there was no hiding the reality of the raw and scorching hot desire in Luka’s eyes.
Oh, he wanted me.
He so fucking wanted me.
Relief struck at the realization, so powerful I almost had to clutch the table for support. My entire plan had hinged on that one single assumption—that after all these years, I was still his greatest fucking obsession.
And I was.
I offered him my glass, asking sweetly, “Want a sip?” I arched my neck a little, tempting his gaze to see the furiously beating pulse on my throat, knowing it would make his blood burn even more hotly.
Luka’s eyes glittered.
Yes, you bastard. Want me. Need me. Desire me. I hoped he would fantasize about me tonight and for all the nights that we would be together, so much that he would be on his fucking knees by the time I was through with him.
And then he surprised me by taking the glass, our fingers brushing against each other, and I sucked my breath in, the heat emanating from those fingers simply off the charts. My knees shook harder.
Our gazes locked with each other as he slowly took a sip, and this time he was the one arching his neck, exposing the beat of his own pulse.
It was one of the sexiest sights for a Caro, and I gritted my teeth. It was that or wet my lips, which would tempt me to close my eyes and imagine sucking on his pulse. I used to do that. We used to do that. It had been so, so freaking arousing that it drove us crazy with desire.
He lowered the glass from his lips and when he returned it to me, I was careful not to let our fingers touch again. I took another sip, murmuring after, “How have you been?”
Luka’s shoulders, broader than what I remembered, moved in an effortlessly elegant shrug. “My life is the usual, thank you for asking.”
My lips tightened. The usual for him now was a life without me then?
He took a step closer, making me want to back away. Only my bitterness against what he did in the past kept me in place.
“I assume you know why I am here.”
“I assume you know how I feel about it.”
His lips tightened once more. “Unfortunately, neither of us has a choice. The Brethren has decreed that I am to be your rehabilitator.”
“I’m still undecided if being thrown to the dungeons would be the better alternative.”
Luka’s eyes narrowed. “Your parents have told me you’ve become…unreasonable.”
“Your parents don’t have to tell me you’ve become more of a pompous jerk these days.”
Luka laughed.
It wasn’t the reaction I was hoping for. Worse, my body was turned on by it—a reaction I definitely wasn’t hoping for either.
In a gentle voice that had me stiffening, he murmured, “Your parents are worried about you and so am I.”
“Worried?” I asked with a mocking smile. “After almost three years of zero communication? Puh-lease, Luka. I may not be as smart as you are but I’m not stupid either.”
He appeared startled at the sharpness of my words. “You’ve changed.”
My smile glittered, but it also became more brittl
e. “Just enjoying my life the only way I know how.”
Luka’s frown darkened. “I’ve read the report on your violations, Caylie. And I know that you know what you’re doing is not a good way to lead your life. You’ve been drinking poisoned blood all the time—”
Actually, I wasn’t. It had been all for show—for him—but he wasn’t to know that. Shrugging nonchalantly, I answered, “Every kid my age does it.”
His nostrils flared, and I knew he was closer to losing his temper—a rare sight, but one could hope. “Your grades are abysmal.”
