by Katie May
But it would be rude as fuck to ask any of those questions.
“So, why were you mad at us?” Jack questions, and I note a flash of vulnerability and pain before he quickly tries to mask it.
I blow out a breath, detangling myself from his arms so I can flop on the bed. My blonde hair cascades around me in messy ringlets. Jack sits patiently on the edge, giving me a moment to collect my thoughts.
“I wasn’t mad at you specifically,” I settle on at last, steepling my fingers together on my chest.
“So you’re mad at Hux?” Jack surmises, quirking a dark brow. Instantly, he winces, rubbing at his forehead as if he’s attempting to fight off a headache.
Or a Hux.
“No, I’m not mad at either of you,” I say quickly, pushing myself onto my elbows. “I’m mad at…everything. The world, for one.”
“I will destroy the world,” Hux growls sharply, eyes flashing in the dimly lit room as he makes an appearance. Jack wrestles for control against his more…um…psychotic brother and flashes me a sheepish smile.
“Sorry about him,” he says, his tone reproachful. “He can be a little…”
“Adorable?” I fill in, warmth seeping into my bloodstream.
“I suppose you can say that.” Completely back in control, Jack places his hand on top of mine, the edge of his thumb brushing against my breast. “Tell me what’s wrong.” He smells like pine and cinnamon, the fragrance curling around me addictively. It settles something inside of me, soothes my monster.
“You sure?”
“Positive.” His tone brooks no room for argument.
Taking a fortifying breath, I admit, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’ve never been a normal monster, but something has changed in the last month.” I push myself up all the way until I’m sitting cross-legged across from him. His hand is still on mine, warmth suffusing me in a delicious, golden glow. “I think I’m scared.”
What is more pathetic than that? A monster being scared.
If my dad could see me now…
“Scared?” Jack winces, rubbing at his forehead. “Hux demands to know who you’re scared of. He offered to…” He pauses briefly as he listens to Hux’s message before relaying it. “He offered to find the…errr…perpetrator, hang them by their toenails, and gut their innards. Then, you’ll dance together in their blood beneath a full moon.”
I practically fucking swoon.
Bloody moonlit dances? I need to take a fan to my overheated ovaries.
“It’s not a person,” I assure my psychopathic monster, and the fire in Jack’s eyes dims to embers. “It’s…it’s you!” Yup. Real smooth, Violet. Real fucking smooth. “That’s not what I meant!” I make a move to facepalm myself only to remember my hand is still connected with Jack’s. Our combined hands end up awkwardly touching my forehead before I drop them both to my lap. “Look, I don’t know how to explain this. I have feelings for…people. Lots of feelings. Feelings I haven’t ever felt before. And…and I’m scared because I have all of these feelings and I don’t know how to deal with them.” My words leave me in a burst of air. Immediately, I want to capture them all and shove them back into my mouth. Embarrassment floods me as I stare intently on a sliver of bamboo flooring visible through the torn carpeting.
“Violet…” Jack begins in a soft voice. It wraps around me like a tightening leash, threatening to propel me straight into his arms. Once I’m there, I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to leave again.
“Look at that spider web!” I deflect quickly, pointing to a spider web in the corner of the room. “That’s one sexy-ass spider, if I do say so myself.”
“Violet—”
“Oh, look. There’s a bloodstain on the wall. I never noticed it before. I wonder who was killed here.”
“Violet…”
“And there’s a—” Before I can finish my next observation, Jack breaches the distance between us and kisses me.
Kisses me.
Internally, I’m screaming like a fucking tween holding the hand of her crush. His lips are soft against my own, and licks of fire erupt on my skin.
I hesitantly tangle my fingers in his thick black hair as he kisses me faster and faster, nails pressing into my waist.
You shouldn’t be doing this, a voice whispers in the back of my head. Darkness nips at my heels as Jack’s tongue prods the seam of my lips, demanding entrance. Frankie just confessed that he is your mate. Isn’t this…cheating?
Then why does it feel so right?
I shove those thoughts away—fucking annihilate them—and focus on kissing Jack back with reckless abandon.
For a brief moment, I think that Jack has transitioned into Hux without my knowledge. The kisses are harsh and brutal. He bites down hard on my lower lip, drawing blood, before licking it up. When I meet his hooded eyes framed by glasses, I know that it’s still Jack kissing me, still Jack gripping my waist with a bruising intensity.
I tilt my head to the side, giving him access to my neck. He kisses down the column of my throat, his breathing just as ragged as mine.
I did that. Me. I caused this collected man to unravel in my arms with lust.
Jack stops abruptly, his lips hovering over my fully covered breasts, and wrenches himself away from me. His cheeks are flushed, and his hair is wildly tousled from my hands. The sight of him sends a pang of primal satisfaction and possessiveness through me.
“Hux is so freaking pissed at me,” Jack murmurs, gripping his head. His glasses begin to slide down his nose, but before they can fall off completely, I crawl forward and push them back into place. His eyes flicker up towards mine, a myriad of emotions lurking in those fathomless depths. I could drown in them.
Which would be a pretty shitty way to die, if I’m being completely honest. I met a ghost once who died by drowning, and the girl is still bitter about it to this day. Though I can’t decide if it’s because of how she died or because she died. Semantics.
“These feelings are new to all of us,” Jack begins in a hushed voice. His eyes caress my face, lingering a moment longer on my lips, before he meets my gaze once more. “But you can’t just ignore us, Violet. You can’t shut us out.”
“I…” I don’t know what to say, so instead, I clamp my lips together.
Score one for Violet!
“Please don’t shut us out,” Jack continues, planting a tender kiss to my forehead.
I want to tell him that I’m scared—fucking terrified— that my “feelings” are going to get these men killed. I want to tell him that my heart is a fucking minefield, and no matter how carefully I tread, it always ends up blowing back up in my face.
I don’t.
Instead, I blurt out, “I’m naming the spider Jerry!”
Fuck me.
CHAPTER 4
VIN
I cross my arms over my chest and lean back in the stiff plastic chair. At the front of the room, Mr. Van Helsing—a distant cousin of mine—rambles about the proper ways to dispose of a wendigo’s body. Set it on fire, and the chemicals on the monster’s skin will cause the flames to become an inferno, capable of destroying entire forests. The best solution? Cut off the head and bury the body ten feet deep. That way, the wendigo isn’t capable of climbing out from underground.
Most of the students are diligently taking notes, but I zone out. I’ve studied this before.
Years ago, actually, when I was just a boy. My grandfather sat down beside me with a heavy tome. Dust particles wafted off the cover as he dropped it onto the table with an audible thud.
“You need to know how to kill every type of monster, boy,” he said, ruffling my hair. “You never know when you’ll have to choose between their life…and yours.”
That was a few years before my grandfather—one of the only people who’d ever truly loved me—was murdered.
I clench my hands into fists as the familiar tendrils of pain and rage wrap around my mind, clouding my vision. Dracula, himself, had been the one to end his
life. To rid the world of the last good man capable of differentiating between right and wrong, capable of enacting justice but also offering forgiveness. Another man who had his life snuffed out too soon by the evil in this world.
Vanessa inconspicuously nudges my shoulder, anchoring me back to the here and now. I shoot my twin a grateful look as I hone in on our teacher’s next words.
“…with the current events of the world.” He moves to rest against the edge of his desk, his legs crossed almost indolently. Mr. Van Helsing—Alfred—likes to believe he’s superior to all of us younger hunters. However, if Alfred was a capable hunter at all, he would be on the field, not in the classroom.
No, Alfred Van Helsing is just a sad, pathetic excuse of a man.
“What is your opinion of the vampires on campus?” a petite, non-related hunter asks from the front of the classroom. Abigail or something. I probably should remember, considering I fucked her a year or two ago.
It takes a moment for her words to penetrate the depressive fog in my brain.
Vampires?
My skin prickles as I straighten in my seat. The other hunters aren’t aware of my relationship with Violet. Or lack thereof. If people knew she was my fated mate…
I shake my head vigorously.
No, no one knows the truth. If they did, I wouldn’t be sitting here in class, alive and breathing. They think that I’m offering protection to Violet in exchange for blowjobs, and I’ll be damned if they find out the truth.
Alfred’s face darkens at the female’s question as he drums his fingers on the edge of the desk.
“We’ve been instructed by the new headmaster not to speak poorly of the vamps.” His pursed lips—as if he has eaten something sour—shows exactly what he thinks about that decree.
The new headmaster? Hopefully, this man or woman is better than the last one. I’m still filled with a blinding rage when I think about the old headmaster, a descendant of Wolfman. He had attempted to murder Violet, until Dimitri fucking Gray murdered him. I still don’t know the full story. Violet has refused to talk to me since Halloween, when she spotted me in the room with Cheryl. Nothing fucking happened besides me telling Cheryl I was done with her and her petty games, but I know Violet feels betrayed in a roundabout way.
I did, however, pry Frankie for details. He has been tight-lipped about this entire thing. However, he assured me that the threat has been handled. For now.
“We should kill all the fucking bloodsuckers before they kill us,” a boy exclaims, leaning forward with a vicious glint in his eyes. My muscles are as taut as the strings on a bow, but I will myself not to outwardly react.
When the class immediately erupts into enthusiastic chatter, I ball my hands into fists and take a deep, steadying breath.
At one point, these men and women were my friends and family members. But that was before I met Violet. Before I began to care for someone more than I cared for myself. More than I cared for the hunt. Now, my thoughts are consumed by the petite blonde-haired angel with a whimsical laugh, cocksure grin, and glimmering eyes. For the first time in my life, I want to murder all of the other hunters in order to protect Violet from their wrath.
“They killed all of those people,” another hunter states. “Dracula’s bitch killed those people.”
I’m seconds from lunging at the boy when Vanessa gracefully stands beside me, dark hair pulled back into a low ponytail. Despite her soft smile, her eyes are hewn from steel. They’re harsh, hard, and utterly unforgiving.
“I believe it’s already been proven that vampires weren’t behind the attack,” she says diplomatically.
And that’s true…officially. On the paperwork, with all of the i’s dotted and t’s crossed.
The true story? Diedre Stevens, a teacher here and a vampire, killed all those students and framed Violet in order to make a martyr out of my mate. Only a select few know the truth. The rest believe Headmaster Lupine was behind the string of murders.
If anyone discovers the truth about that night, vampire propaganda will increase tenfold.
“Just kill Violet Dracula,” Abigail drawls, removing her dagger and tapping it on her desk. “She’s the ringleader of all this. Her and her disgusting father.”
“She’s innocent,” Vanessa refutes. “There’s no evidence—”
“Who gives a fuck about evidence?” another girl shouts, jumping to her feet. “You, of all people, should want the bitch killed. Her father murdered your grandfather as well as countless other hunters. The girl and her father should pay!”
“There’s no denying that her father is guilty of unspeakable acts,” Vanessa says quietly. “But we’re hunters, not monsters. The moment we start punishing children for the crimes of their parents, we become no better than the monsters we kill.”
At first, I think my sister’s words have gotten through to them. They all blink at her wordlessly as she sits back down, a regal tilt to her chin. Then, as one, they break into raucous laughter.
“Enough! Enough! Enough!” Alfred says, attempting to get control of his class. However, his lips are quirked upwards in a wry smile. “We’ll discuss vampires again when we reach that chapter in our textbook.”
Relieved that we’re no longer discussing how to kill my fucking mate, I relax back in my seat.
The class grumbles, thoroughly disappointed, as they flip to the chapter Alfred indicates on the board.
“I should also announce that we’re expected to receive a few new students starting next week,” he continues. “With the Roaring fast approaching, we have had over twenty students transfer to Prodigium from neighboring schools.”
“How many hunters?”
“Any vamps?”
“Do we have the list of species?”
Alfred waves away the sudden flurry of questions, moving to sit back in his leather chair. It creaks under his weight, once more proving that this man isn’t fit to be a hunter.
Literally.
“I do not know all the information,” he admits, and I just barely resist the urge to scoff. No fucking surprise. He’s low on the totem pole, both here and in the hunter’s guild. “I do know, however, that we will have a new student in this class. I expect you all to be on your best behavior…”
I zone him out yet again as the conversation steers from new students to the beheading of zombies. When the bell finally rings, I rush from class like my ass depends on it.
I need to find Violet.
It’s been way too fucking long since I last spoke to her, and the distance is making me crazy. I know she’s pissed at me—both because I left her at the party to meet with Cheryl, and because I didn’t protect her when she needed me—but I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make it up to her. At this time of day, she should have Practical Theory with Mr. Pumpkin. Hopefully, I can corner her in the hall and demand she listen to my apology.
Honestly? I don’t know if I want to choke the girl half the time or kiss her. Probably a combination of both, if I’m being honest. Violet is the only person alive who can irritate the shit out of me while simultaneously making me want to lay her naked over a table and fuck her senseless.
I’ve just stepped into the hall when a perfectly manicured hand touches my chest.
“Fucking hell,” I gripe, narrowing my eyes at the redhead before me.
Cheryl fucking Ness. The bane of my existence.
Her blue skin shimmers under the fluorescent lights, highlighting the numerous scales clamoring up her arms and neck. She blinks her eyes at me coyly before taking a step closer. My back hits the wall, and my eyes narrow even further. I’ve never hit a girl before, but Cheryl? She makes me want to.
“Vinny Poo,” she mewls in that obnoxiously high-pitched voice.
“Don’t fucking call me that,” I hiss, shoving at her hand until she drops it back to her side. Still, she’s way too close for comfort. It’s almost as if she emits a sickly poison that corrodes everything it touches. Spend too long in her air space, and you f
ucking die. “We talked about this.”
I’m done with pleasantries. I was kind to her at first because of our shared past, but that is over. The girl can’t take no for a fucking answer. Even when we were dating, I hated being around her. She kept promising she’d grow on me, and I reluctantly agreed—knowing full well that I’d have her removed, like I would any cancerous growth.
“How many times do I have to tell you?” I seethe, lowering my face to her level. I want her to see the determined set of my jaw, the sincerity in my eyes. I want her to know that whatever relationship we once had is over. “I am—”
Before I can finish my sentence, she pushes up onto her tiptoes and kisses me. Shock and disgust make me momentarily immobile. I just lift my arms to push the bitch away when she steps back with a satisfied smirk.
What the…?
“See you around, Vinny Poo.” She wiggles her fingers and sashays down the hall as my mind struggles to catch up with what just happened. It feels as if there’s slime on my lips, and I have the irresistible urge to stick my face in a pot of acid.
I’ve turned to do just that when I spot a familiar shock of blonde hair framing a cherubic, almost elfin, face. Her eyes are wide with hurt and disbelief, and her lips are popped open. Betrayal contorts her beautiful features, and that one look stabs me, flaying me open, until I’m standing before her damaged and unloved.
Fuck!
“Violet!” I plead, wondering what the hell she saw. If the pain emanating from her eyes is any indication, she saw more than I would’ve liked. When she looks at me like that, like I shattered her heart in my hands, I feel abhorrent and disgusting…like a monster.
The darkness that is always percolating just under the surface, waiting for me to unleash it, returns with a vengeance.
“Violet!” I begin stalking towards her, determined to take her in my arms and…
And what?
Shake her until she sees reason? Until she knows that Cheryl means nothing to me and she’s my fated mate?
Kiss the daylights out of her?
