by Katie May
But this new development? Disappearing for hours on end? It’s terrifying. Will one of us simply cease to exist? Is that the curse of being two souls trapped in one body?
Quit overthinking it, Hux hisses vehemently. You know I’ll never let anything happen to you.
“I know,” I whisper, but that’s exactly what I’m afraid of.
We’re both silent as I pull into the school parking lot and grab my bag from the backseat. I imagine Hux’s thoughts are a reflection of my own—if only one of us can live, how would we choose which one? Would we force Violet to choose between us?
I scrub a hand down my face as my thoughts begin to run rampant.
What class do we have right now? Hux queries as we step into the academic building. I leave the chocolates and flowers in the backseat of my car for Hux to grab later.
“Roaring with Dimitri. Which we’re late for,” I grumble, hurrying my pace.
Can you tell my precious treasure I miss her? And that I bought her roses and chocolates? Or should I just throw them at her like they do in the movies?
And…now I picture Hux throwing chocolate bars at Violet’s head while he stares at her with dopey, lovesick eyes.
I roll my eyes at his antics as I slip through the classroom door. Dimitri Gray is already perched on his desk, his long legs extended in front of him. I spot Alex and Cheryl sitting in the front row, Cheryl purposefully leaning forward to show a hint of cleavage. Violet sits in the back with Frankie, Mason, and Vin. I notice the latter two are joking amongst themselves, but Violet is uncharacteristically silent. Frankie has one hand on her knee, almost as if he’s offering comfort.
Precious Treasure! Hux screams in my head, causing me to wince. Instantly, I’m bombarded with images of me pulling Violet onto my lap and pushing aside her skirt to make love to her. Thank you, Hux. Because I really wanted to start my day with a boner.
Her golden curls are piled haphazardly into a bun at the top of her head. She wears a pink dress with a black leather jacket over it. She looks completely normal, except for her eyes. They’re…haunted almost. Shadowed with pain I can’t even begin to comprehend.
I move to sit at the desk on the other side of her, directly behind Mason.
“Are you okay?” I whisper softly, and her eyes flicker to me in alarm. She quickly tries to smooth over her expression before I can notice.
“Of course.” She forces a smile. “How are my two favorite men doing?”
“Hey, I heard that!” Mason exclaims, spinning around to face us. Violet sticks her tongue out at him, and Mason grabs his heart in mock pain. “You wound me, oh beautiful one.”
“We all know I’m the favorite,” Vin states with a derisive snort.
“I don’t know, man,” Mason teases. “Frankie and Violet are looking quite chummy over there.” He winks conspiratorially at the two, and I can’t help but note how Violet’s face pales and Frankie’s hand tightens on her leg.
Something’s wrong, I murmur to Hux.
With my precious treasure? he demands instantly. Did Frankie hurt her?
I honestly don’t know.
Before I can press Violet for information, Dimitri clears his throat at the front of the classroom.
“As a lot of you already know, this is a new class designed specifically to navigate the analytical portion of the Roaring.” He clasps his hands behind his back and begins to pace. “One of the main games is a test of sorts. But not a written one. You will be put in a situation with a small group of fellow competitors, and you’ll have to work as a team to figure out how to escape with your life.”
How does he know all of this? Hux asks in annoyance. Already, he’s itching for me to turn away from the stoic teacher and focus on Violet beside us. I’m pretty sure the man doesn’t know how to function when he’s not staring at her.
Didn’t you know? Dimitri won the Roaring a few years ago. They called it the Blood Bath. Every other monster died…except for him and one other.
Who was the other survivor? Hux inquires, only half listening.
Dracula himself.
I watched the games on television with my father, appalled by how gruesome they were. I had competed twenty or thirty years ago, but never again. I didn’t want to risk my life for a stupid title and trophy.
But Dimitri Gray and Vladimir Dracula? They won the games…and killed everyone else in the process.
“What if we get paired up with vampire scum?” Cheryl asks innocently, waving her hand in the air to capture Dimitri’s attention. He pauses mid-lecture, the full force of his icy blue gaze barreling down on her.
“Then you better hope your partner is a better person than you, Cheryl Ness,” Dimitri lectures. “Or else you’ll both be dead.”
She huffs, clearly not having expected that answer, before crossing her arms over her chest and leaning back in her seat.
“Today, we’ll start with something simple,” Dimitri declares. “Everyone pair up and—”
“I call Pinkie!” Mason jumps to his feet and grabs Violet’s arm. Immediately, she releases a pained whimper, wrenching her arm free from Mason and rubbing it inconspicuously.
What the heck…?
Hux notices it at the same time I do and roars in my head, demanding to be released. I turn towards Frankie, who looks pale and sick, as if he’s seconds from expelling the contents of his breakfast across his desk.
“What the fuck did you do?” Vin rises to his feet, every inch the dangerous predator. There’s a reason the other monsters fear the Van Helsings. They’re hunters, through and through. When they smell blood, they’ll latch on to it with all of their teeth and bite down.
Mason is slower to understand what is happening, eyes darting between all of us, before understanding dawns in his eyes. He moves swiftly to his feet as well, standing shoulder to shoulder with Vin, an impenetrable wall of muscle.
Hux has gone quiet in my own mind, but it’s not because he has disappeared. It’s because he’s filled to the brim with a blistering rage, one that surpasses anything I have ever felt before. It’s the calm before a storm. The eye of a hurricane, where you can look in every direction and see rapid winds and piercing rain. It’s a subtle type of anger, but one that’s capable of igniting an inferno.
“Knock it off,” Violet hisses softly. She intertwines her fingers with Frankie’s and gives him a reassuring squeeze.
“Did he hurt you?” Vin asks dangerously, already taking a threatening step forward. I can see the violence in his eyes, teetering on the brink of absolute destruction, like a tornado rapidly approaching an unsuspecting town.
“What the bloody hell is going on over here?” Dimitri steps forward, eyes spewing frost, before focusing intently on Violet. “I’m in the middle of a class, Ms. Dracula. If you would like to have a conversation, please do that on your own time.”
“You’re right.” Violet folds her hands on her desk, flashing an innocent smile. “Please proceed.”
“Not until you tell us why you flinched!” Vin demands.
Dimitri cocks an eyebrow, eyes narrowing even further.
“What is he talking about, Violet?”
She fidgets under our combined stares, reaching for Frankie’s hand as if she’s drifting away at sea and he’s the only one who can steady her.
“Oh for fuck’s sake…” Cheryl sashays forward with a wicked grin, Alex following closely on her heel. Before we can do anything, she grabs Violet’s arm and pushes up the loose sleeve.
“Holy shit!” Vin curses, eyes widening in horror. Cheryl releases Violet’s arm as if she has been stung by a wasp, mouth agape. She looks physically sick as she reads the words etched into Violet’s pasty skin. Only one weapon would cause the scars not to heal.
A god-blessed blade.
A myriad of emotions flicker across Dimitri’s face—a storm brewing and gathering speed—before he turns on his heel with a brisk “class dismissed” and exits the room.
“Violet?” I ask gently, grabbi
ng her scarred arm. I rub the pad of my thumb gently over the crude words, anger vibrating through me. My anger, though? It’s nothing compared to Hux’s. “What happened?”
“It doesn’t matter,” she says scathingly. She pulls her arm free and bends down to grab her backpack.
“Violet…” I say gently, ignoring Vin’s curses and Mason’s death threats.
“Seriously, Jack, drop it, okay? I don’t want to talk about it.” I’ve never heard Violet sound so choked up before. Usually, she acts as if she’s grabbing life by the balls and making it her bitch. This is a shell of the woman I know and love. Whatever those assholes did broke a fundamental piece of her.
On her way out the door, she shoulders past a still silent and gaping Cheryl and a pale-faced Alex. Before I can follow her, I’m pushed to the side by the force of Vin’s assault on Frankie. He grabs the man by his shirt collar and pushes him against the wall.
“Why the hell didn’t you stop it?” he screams, spittle flying from his lips. Frankie allows the hunter to manhandle him, not even lifting a finger to stop the barrage of fists. I recognize the look in his eyes too well—self-loathing. His dark eyes are rife with frustration and anger.
“Vin, that’s enough,” I say tiredly, grabbing my friend’s shoulder to pull him back. He shoves at me, causing me to lose my footing before I quickly right myself.
“Don’t tell me what’s enough! Did you see her fucking arm?” he roars, pounding another fist into Frankie’s face.
“Of course I did! We all did! But this isn’t the correct way to handle it. We should save our anger for the assholes who hurt her.”
I want nothing more than to follow Violet and comfort her, but I know that if I leave the room, Vin might actually kill Frankie.
“Did you see them?” Mason whispers, shaking himself out of whatever daze Violet’s scarring put him in. “The assholes who did that to her?”
At Frankie’s barely perceptible nod, Vin drops him to the ground.
“Then we find them,” he snaps, tone laced with acrimony. “And we kill them.”
“Wait!” We all turn at the same time to see an ashen Alex standing in the doorframe. His dark eyes swirl like a bottomless black pit. “I want to help.”
“Fuck you!” Mason hisses, storming forward and pressing his arm to the man’s throat. “It’s people like you—”
“People like me?” Alex scoffs once, the sound pained due to his obstructed airway. “What those monsters did is sickening.”
“And making her shit her pants wasn’t?” I ask softly, and his head swivels in my direction. For a brief moment, I see guilt in his eyes, but it’s there and gone too fast for me to comment on.
With one last glare directed our way, Alex storms out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him.
“I’ll stay with Violet,” Mason whispers, for once forgoing his usual nickname for her. “She might not know it yet, but she shouldn’t be alone.”
Frankie nods once in understanding, his face already beginning to bruise in some areas from Vin’s fists. “I need to finish the potion in my lab,” he explains. “It’s designed to help with the scarring.”
“Good. That’s good—” Before I can say another word, I’m shoved to the back of my own mind with a ferocious roar.
“Hux.” Vin nods once in greeting, but my brother is too far gone to acknowledge him. His mind is focused on one thing and one thing only—revenge.
“Let’s go kill a little piggy, shall we?” he questions darkly.
CHAPTER 21
VIOLET
“Violet, wait!” a familiar voice calls from behind me. I decrease my pace, more in curiosity than anything else.
A second later, Cheryl stops beside me, panting heavily.
“Damn, girl. You’re fast.”
I shrug nonchalantly. “One of the only perks of being a vampire, I guess.”
We’re both silent for a moment as we stare at one another. Cheryl rocks back and forth on her heels, anxiously nipping at her lower lip. She forks her fingers through her mane of hair before dropping her arm back to her side.
“Did you kill them?” she asks abruptly, crossing and then uncrossing her arms.
“Who?”
“The guys who did that to you.” She nods to my abused flesh. “Did you kill them?”
My heart seems to be growing in a steadily shrinking vise.
“No,” I whisper at last, dropping my gaze to focus on my combat boots. “I didn’t.”
“What they did was fucked up,” Cheryl continues, a hint of anger in her voice. “And that’s coming from me. And…and I’m sorry. About outing you like that. It was a real bitch move, and again, that’s coming from me.”
I can’t help the tentative smile that curls up my lips, but I still stubbornly keep my gaze lowered. “What can I say? You are a bitch.”
She snorts. “Can you blame me? My boyfriend left me for you. I think I deserve to be a little bitchy.” An awkward silence ensues once more as we both struggle to think of something to say. Finally, I lift my head and meet her piercing blue eyes. “If you find the assholes who did that to you, I’ll help you hide the bodies. But, like, don’t go thinking this makes us friends or anything like that. I still hate your guts, but just not enough to want you to physically die.” With that ominous statement, she flips back her flaming hair and hurries down the hall.
“What the fuck?” I murmur, more to myself than anyone else. Shaking my head at the sheer bizarreness of that entire conversation, I hurry out of the academic building and into the frigid air. Winter is fast approaching, and the bitter winds and deteriorating leaves are evidence enough. As I walk down the familiar pathway to my dorm building, I allow the biting cold to soothe my ravaged emotions.
“Pinkie! Pinkie! Pinkie! Wait up!” This time, I don’t bother to slow down as I hear the crackle of leaves and foliage. Mason materializes out of the trees a moment later and jogs towards me, stopping when he’s able to match my pace.
“I’m not going to be good company, Mase,” I warn him stoutly as we step in front of the ancient dormitory.
He shrugs. “We could be sitting in absolute silence, making faces at each other across the room, and I’d still want to be with you.”
Knowing that nothing I say will deter him, I nod for him to head in first. “Lead the way, Snake Man.”
“Snake Man… Are you thinking of nicknames for my cock?” he teases as we pass the front desk and walk to the staircase. “I’ve always called it Little Mason, but I’m open to suggestions.”
“Sorry. I’m pretty sure Tic Tac is already trademarked somewhere.”
“Ouch, Vi. You wound me.” We finally stop in front of my door on the second floor, and I push it open quickly, determined to hide beneath my covers and forget this shit day ever happened. It’s only when the lights are on that I get a good look at the once pristine—if a bit dusty—dorm room.
It’s as if someone ransacked everything. Tables and nightstands are overturned, and my blankets have been cut to shreds. All of my textbooks are dripping with an undefinable green liquid. One glance in my closet confirms that my clothes have also been altered beyond recognition, the shirts having more holes than fabric and the skirts cut into thin strands.
“Fucking hell!” Mason breathes as he surveys the destruction of my room. I know I should feel horrified or upset about the damage inflicted, but instead, I just feel numb. It’s a similar sensation to how I felt in the alleyway last night, when those monsters carved hurtful words into my skin. There’s only so much shit I can endure before it becomes too much. I’m getting buried beneath six feet of pure concrete, and no matter how loud I scream, no one can hear me.
“It’s fine.” I drop my bag onto the precariously standing desk, two of the legs bent at odd angles.
“It’s not fine!” he seethes, chest heaving. “It’s not fucking fine!”
“So, what can we do about it?” I eye my bed wistfully before grabbing one of my shredded blank
ets and pulling it around my shoulders. Once I’m safely cocooned, I sit on the ground with my back against the wall. Mason hesitates only a second before moving to sit directly beside me. “People fear things they don’t understand, and vampires? We’re the epitome of that. We’re stronger, faster, and more durable than any other monster.”
“People are dumbasses,” Mason protests venomously. “They have no idea what the fuck they’re talking about.”
“They hate me,” I continue, ignoring his outburst. “And they don’t even know me.” Squeezing my eyelids shut, I release a bark of humorless laughter. “Ironically enough, I might not even be a vampire.”
Mason tenses beside me, only his head moving to stare at me attentively. “What do you mean?”
With a sigh, I rest my head on his shoulder. His arm automatically comes up to wrap around me, hugging me to him.
“Ms. Stevens…” I begin, confessing a secret I should’ve told them weeks ago. “She mentioned something. Something strange.”
He doesn’t interrupt, doesn’t demand me to hurry up. Instead, he’s content with allowing me to process the information at my own pace.
“She said Dracula wasn’t my father. That I was found by him when I was just a baby. She also said that I’m not even a vampire.” The words tumble out of me in a rush, but it’s a relief to get that weight off my chest. Since I heard that information, it’s been a constant pressure cutting off my air supply. Only now does it feel like I can finally breathe again.
“She’s a lying, psychotic bitch who tried to kill you,” Mason protests adamantly. “You can’t believe a word she says.”
“It’s not just her.” Absently, I draw circles into his chest over his shirt. “My dad acted really weird when I mentioned Ms. Stevens the other day. He told me to meet him in person to discuss it further.”
“When?”
“Tonight,” I say. “He’s supposed to text me a location.”
