by Katie May
Before I can even finish my sentence, he’s lunging forward, lips puckered. I laugh and swat at his face half-heartedly, laughing harder at his look of bemusement.
“But I can’t. I have makeup on.”
“You don’t need makeup,” Hux insists adamantly. “You’re beautiful without it. But you’re also beautiful with it. Hell, you’d be beautiful if you were wearing a plastic bag and had a disco ball balancing on your head.”
Yup. It’s official. I’m putty. I swear I melt with each consecutive word he says.
I’m too busy making googly eyes at him—and him at me—that I don’t hear Vin’s warning until I collide into someone’s back. I would’ve fallen to my ass if Vin hadn’t lunged forward and caught me.
“Who the fuck dares hurt my precious treasure?” Hux hisses—because he’s extra like that. I don’t bother to correct him and say I ran into him. Sometimes you just need to let Hux be.
The man spins around on his heel, nearly pulling the woman he’s with off her feet. A third male hovers off to the side, watching the interaction with narrowed, hate-filled eyes.
I stare at the woman first, mainly because something about her haunted, blood-shot eyes calls to me. Her blonde hair is smoothed into a flawless high ponytail, not a strand out of place. She wears a skintight black dress that one would see at a cocktail bar instead of a ball. Still, she’s gorgeous, embodying a feminine beauty and grace. Her eyes are hazel, but laden with such pain and sadness that my heart skips a beat. And though she’s smiling, it doesn’t meet her pensive gaze.
The man beside her is a giant in comparison. His hair is black as pitch, gelled away from his aristocratic face. With a sharp nose, strong jawline, and high cheekbones, he appears almost too beautiful, too handsome. But the coldness in his eyes makes him appear hideous, at least to me.
Finally, my gaze rests on the third male. On his familiar black hair and obsidian eyes. On the tattoos interspersed across his tan skin. On the bulb in his eyebrow and the earrings in his ears. On the smirk pulling up those delectably wicked lips.
“I’m sorry,” I stammer out at last as the man stares down at me. These must be Alex’s parents. His facial structure is similar to his mother’s, but the jet-black hair and fathomless dark eyes are inherited from his father.
“Don’t fucking talk to us, you vampire scum,” his father sneers at last. I can’t help but notice that the woman blanches at the venom in his tone, shooting me a sympathetic glance before she quickly covers her reaction.
“Do not talk to her like that!” Barret snaps, moving to stand in front of me. As I watch, my friendly giant seems to grow in size until he’s towering above us all, his muscles flexing in a rare show of power and dominance.
“Do you know what you cost us?” the man continues, peering around Barret’s bulky form to glare at me with incandescent fury. “What you cost my wife?” He tugs on the woman’s arm until she tumbles towards him, face twisting in pain. I watch the exchange with growing horror.
The fear and pain cloying her eyes…
Could that be from him?
“I don’t even know you,” I say simply. The man surprises us all by spitting at my feet, face scrunched in disgust.
“You should do the world a favor and kill yourself. You’re not deserving of the air you breathe.”
It takes both Mason and Cal to stop Hux from lunging forward and ripping the man’s head clean off his neck. Not that I blame him. I’m also feeling quite murdery today, thank you very much.
All of my pain and anger from before comes rushing back with the strength of a hurricane. It whips at my hair and bites at my face. Pain like no other sparks in my heart like errant fireworks.
“What did I ever do to you?” I hiss, baring my fangs.
“Dad,” Alex warns, flashing me a glare full of loathing. He looks as if he’d very much enjoy wrapping those tattooed hands of his around my neck and giving it a squeeze. “People are watching.”
It’s true. Our exchange has garnered a crowd of curious onlookers. No one will step in if this escalates to a fight, but the monster world knows not to mess with Dracula—and by extension, me—with witnesses around. My father’s revenge is well-known across the globe. Hell, I’m pretty sure there are still heads spiked on the fence surrounding our summer home in Hawaii from the last monster group who pissed Dad off.
Alex stares at the assembled crowd, still far enough away not to hear our conversation, and releases a belittling laugh. The noise is reminiscent of starless skies and double-edged swords. Of daggers and full moons. There’s something dark and sinister about it, something that makes my skin crawl like thousands of fire ants have been set free under my skin.
My heart thunders in my chest as Alex steps around his father and leans forward, under the guise of pushing back a strand of my curly blonde hair, and whispers in my ear, “I’d watch what you say, little vampire. Tonight, not even Dracula can protect you.”
When he steps back, the cruel smile is still firmly in place.
“What the hell does that mean?” Mason hisses, still gripping one of Hux’s arms. I can see Hux struggling to regain control of his beast, his monster.
“Don’t threaten me,” I add, lifting my head to meet his crow-black stare.
“Halloween is when we can embrace our inner monsters, but the Roaring? The Roaring is when the monsters actually get to play,” Alex tuts, gripping his father’s arm and pulling him away. “Let’s go, Dad. The bitch isn’t worth it.” His cold laughter rings out as he drags his father down the path, away from me. His mother remains behind for only a moment, eyes surveying my face with the same intensity I had examined hers.
“Helena!” Alex’s father screams, the noise clawing at my skin. She winces, face paling, before leaning in closer to me.
Immediately, Vin and Frankie step up to either side of me. Barret continues to expand until it’s almost comical—if he wanted to, he could crush her beneath one foot.
“Take care of my boy,” she whispers hoarsely, ignoring the men on either side of me.
“What?” I bite out in disbelief. She couldn’t possibly be talking about Alex, could she?
“Please.”
“Helena!” Alex’s father snarls. I watch as Alex futilely attempts to drag his dad away, but the man stays firm, feet rooted to the ground.
“Please,” Helena repeats. With one last beseeching glance at me, she spins on her heel and mechanically walks back towards her husband and son. Once she’s in range, her husband grabs at her frail arm, tugging her to him, and I note a muscle in Alex’s jaw twitch.
“What the bloody hell was that all about?” Cal hisses, his red feathers ruffling in the early winter air.
“The usual,” Mason spits, finally releasing Hux. Cal, after a moment, releases his other arm and takes a tentative step away from the frightening monster. “Vampire haters.”
“No, this seemed different,” I say, watching the three of them disappear in the foggy graveyard. “Personal, almost. Alex even told me that it wasn’t something Dracula did, but something I did.”
“But what the hell did you do?” Vin asks, throwing his hands into the air. “You have a collection of stuffed unicorns, for fuck’s sake.”
“Hey.” I spin on my heel and level an accusatory finger in his direction. “Those are magical horses with horns. Not unicorns.”
“They’re totally unicorns,” Mason throws in.
“I have to agree with them on this one, Cheese Curd,” adds Barret.
“Horses. With. Horns.”
“Unicorns,” all of the men parrot, sans Hux, who is still glaring at a tree trunk as if it has personally offended him. Shit. This isn’t good.
Frankie notices Hux’s predicament at the same time I do and nods subtly at me.
“I need to talk to you guys about something,” he says coldly to the others, shoving his hand into his pants pockets.
When all of them furrow their brows, Frankie inconspicuously nods his head in
Hux’s direction, teetering the line between insanity and coherence.
“Huh?” Barret murmurs, but Cal grips his hand and tugs him a short distance away.
“Hux?” I whisper once all of the guys are situated in a circle away from us. “Sweetie?”
Yeah, I’m still trying out pet names for him.
Baby Daddy, Cum Buddy, and Chocolate Bar. Chocolate Bar is my personal favorite, but I’m still struggling for it to catch on.
Hux growls low in his throat as I push up onto my tiptoes and place my hands on both of his cheeks. They have a light layer of stubble on them that grazes my palms and fingers, generating goosebumps on my sensitive skin.
“He threatened you,” he manages to hiss out at last, voice guttural and nearly unrecognizable.
“But he didn’t do anything,” I promise, continuing to hold his cheeks and willing his eyes to flick down to mine. “And he won’t do anything. You want to know why? Because I have you to protect me.”
“I didn’t protect you before,” Hux seethes, and I detect shame in his tone. Self-loathing.
“You couldn’t have,” I counter. “You didn’t know I needed you.”
“But—”
“No buts. What happened wasn’t your fault.” I hold up my arm, allowing him to see the faded pink words. Already, the letters are indistinguishable and impossible to read. “These scars are already fading thanks to Frankie, and soon, they’ll heal completely. And I’m not just talking about the physical ones, but the mental ones too. Because of you, Hux. You and the others. You’re healing me each and every day. I wouldn’t be standing here if it wasn’t for you. Sometimes I wish I was a normal girl with a normal life, but that’ll never be me. And that’ll never be you. I’m okay with that. I know that my life won’t be easy, but you guys make me feel like I can do anything. Like I can survive anything.”
“What type of mate am I if I can’t protect you?” He runs his fingers through his long black hair, and my breath catches on the “mate” word. Instead of diving into all of my muddled feelings, I fasten my hands behind his neck and tug his lips down to mine.
“The best kind.”
Aware of the eyes probing into my back, I lean in close, teasing his mouth with my lips. Hux groans low in his throat, slipping his tongue between my lips and cupping the back of my head. I don’t even care that with each tug of my curls, he’s destroying the immaculate hairdo Cynthia spent an hour on. I don’t care that each brush of his lips against my own causes my lipstick to smear. All I care about is calming the storm raging just beneath the surface of my monster.
My fingernails dig into his shoulders as he tilts his head to the side, devouring my lips at a deeper angle until the embers in my belly transform into a flame.
“I can’t let anything happen to you,” he whispers against my mouth. “I—we—won’t be able to survive it.”
“I’m always going to be here, Hux, annoying the shit out of you. You can’t get rid of me.” Our breaths fan together as our lips meet once more. “You too, Jack.” There’s a pause for a moment, and then the kisses become even faster and more intense, his mouth slanting over mine. I don’t have to look to know that Hux has transitioned into Jack.
“He’s been like this since we saw those words carved into your skin,” Jack admits. “You’re the most important thing in the world to him.”
His lips touch mine once more, biting sharply on my lip. The aggressive move surprises me—completely unlike both Jack and Hux. It’s punishing, almost. Still, I open my mouth and kiss him back with a fervid intensity, promising him the world in our clash of lips.
Somebody clears his throat from behind us.
“Guys, we’re going to be late,” Mason says, voice heady with amusement and lust.
I don’t know what I expect to see when I turn around, but it isn’t the flames dancing in all of their eyes. It isn’t the pure and unfiltered lust emanating back at me. Even Cal and Barret are staring at me as if they have never seen me before. When they catch me looking, Cal looks away with a frown, but Barret’s smile grows. I half expected jealousy and anger—hurt, maybe—but that’s not what I see at all.
Oh, the possibilities…
“Let’s finish this ceremony,” Hux says, straightening out his rumpled suit. I only know it’s Hux because his accent becomes more pronounced. Once more, he extends his arm for me to take. “And then, we can pretend to be a normal girl and a normal guy at a ball together. What do you say, my precious treasure?”
I smile softly at him. “We’ll never be normal, Hux. How can we be? We’re a bunch of monsters.”
CHAPTER 24
VIN
The commencement ceremony is a drag. Monster after monster steps up onto a stage and speaks a few words about how excited they are for the Roaring to begin. When Dimitri fucking Gray materializes, I notice every girl in attendance—and a few of the males as well—straighten in anticipation. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Violet exchange a glance with Frankie. When she faces the front once more, there’s a delicate flush to her cheeks that hadn’t been there prior.
Great. Even my mate is obsessed with our headmaster.
My mate.
Those two words still cause a torrent of butterflies to be unleashed in my chest. It seems surreal—utterly impossible—that someone like me found the one person I’m fated to be with for the rest of my life. If I wasn’t so positive that Violet was perfect for me, I would think it was a cruel twist of fate.
A Dracula and a Van Helsing.
It sounds crazy, even to me, and I’m the asshole living it.
When we’re finally dismissed, Violet is swept away by her other…err…boyfriends? Mates? Fuck if I know or even care. All that matters is that they protect and care for her when I can’t.
Say, now, for example. Before I can follow after her, a hand clamps down on my shoulder, halting me.
“Vin,” my father says shortly, staring at me like I’m a bug he wishes to squish. I imagine it’s the same expression he gives the monsters he hunts—like we’re nothing. Stefan Van Helsing is a tall and imposing man, well over six feet tall. He would be handsome if his mouth wasn’t twisted in a rictus grin and if anger wasn’t written into every line of his wicked visage. Vanessa stands on the other side of my father, face pinched tightly. It’s the only outward sign of her distress.
“Stefan,” I reply just as cooly. We don’t use titles, him and me. For as long as I can remember, he has always been Stefan to me. Now, my grandpa, on the other hand…
My heart pinches, as it always does, when I think of him. He was the only person—sans my twin—to have ever truly loved me. All of the other love bestowed upon me was conditional, with heaping layers of expectations I couldn’t even begin to meet. Even my mother, with her cherubic face and honey blonde hair, saw me as an object to twist and distort for her schemes. Her angelic face belies a wicked streak a mile long. She and my dad are carved from the same cloth, after all.
I’m a pawn for them to use, nothing more.
Abruptly, Stefan grabs my arm and drags me towards the gray tomb erected in the center of the graveyard. I’ve never seen it up close before, despite having lived on campus for years now. The dilapidated, seventeenth century chamber curves steeply at the top, the gray stone transitioning to a wooden cross. The name carved above the door has been eradicated with age, the words barely readable.
Where will I go when I die? Will I be buried here, in a graveyard that we use for our enjoyment? Will I be one of the forgotten ghosts, name etched across the stone covered in ivy and grit? Before, I wouldn’t have cared. My sole purpose in life is to kill monsters, to be the champion for humanity that’s forced to work in the shadows. Maybe that’s what makes us monsters. We’re the silent killers, the assassins who hide in the darkness, never able to show our true selves in the light.
My morbid thoughts are interrupted by a fist connecting with my cheek. My head whips to the side as pain erupts from the point of contact. It feels as
if my brain is rattling around in my skull.
“What the fuck?” I hiss, spitting out blood and swiveling to face my father once more.
“You’re a disgrace. A disappointment.” He spits at my shoes, the gesture reminding me eerily of when Alex’s father spat on Violet’s. “You’ve been hanging out with Dracula’s daughter? Fucking her?” His face turns red with each sentence, hands fisting by his sides, as if he wants to punch me a second time.
Vanessa pales slightly, eyes widening imperceptibly, as she glances between me and my father. My mother merely crosses her arms over her chest and levels me with a blistering glare.
“Dad…” Vanessa begins. If anyone can talk sense into Stefan, it’s her. She’s always been his perfect angel.
“Shut the fuck up, Vanessa,” Stefan hisses, and my temper flares.
“Don’t talk to her like that!”
“Does she have a magical pussy, is that it?” Stefan goads, ignoring my outburst. “Is that vampire bitch good at sucking cock? Maybe I should test her out myself. Before I drive a stake through her heart.” His eyes gleam with pure malice, lips pulling away from his teeth. A cold chill chases down my spine.
“She’s nothing,” I bite out, hating myself a tiny bit for the lie I have to spew. “Just an oblivious whore I like to fuck. Do you really think it would be anything more? That I would betray my family like that? After what her bastard father did to my grandpa…your father?” I stare into his icy brown eyes, rife with anger, and work to keep my own face impassive. “Violet Dracula is just a means to an end. Nothing more.”
“We have big plans for her during the games,” Stefan replies evenly, eyes cataloging every miniscule twitch on my face. “Big, big plans.”
Fuck, what exactly does he mean by that?
I want to shake his shoulders and demand answers, but I know that will only make things worse. The only thing that might save Violet is being the perfect son, the perfect hunter, the perfect monster of all monsters.
“That better not be a threat, Stefan Van Helsing,” a cold voice says as a lean figure materializes from around the corner. Dimitri’s hands are tucked into his pockets as he adopts an insouciant, almost lackadaisical, posture. “My Academy has a zero-tolerance policy for hate crimes. If I discover you or any of your hunters have hurt a monster on this campus, I will not hesitate to invoke the punishment at the highest extent of the law.”
