Roaring

by Katie May

  “Did you know that I’m only part cat?” he queries. “The other half of me?” His eyes shine and contort, becoming distinctly reptilian in appearance. “The other half of me is a snake.” Those two fangs I noticed earlier expand in his mouth until they’re approximately the size of my own. His mouth opens wildly as he prepares to bite down on Cal’s vulnerable neck. Before he can do it, though, I jump on his back, taking us both to the ground. Pussy Man takes no time in grabbing my sensitive wrist and sticking his fangs into my skin.

  Immediately, pain begins to heat along my veins, my body turning sluggish. I feebly claw at his face, my fingernails leaving inch-deep gouges in his fleshy skin. I hope he needs Botox.

  As my consciousness rapidly begins to wane, darkness pricking the edges of my vision, I see Cal begin to twitch and stir. He shakes his head once and then twice, moving jerkily to his feet. He blinks rapidly as he attempts to orient himself before his eyes come to rest on me.

  With an enraged roar—the likes of which I never heard before—Cal lunges forward and grabs Pussy Man by a wisp of his dark hair.

  “Don’t touch her.” Cal’s voice is guttural, almost a growl, and causes my stomach to tighten into dozens of small, intricate knots. It’s dark, deadly, and possessive. The cupid hurls daggers at the other monster with his eyes before slowly, hypnotically, opening his mouth.

  Pussy Man’s face goes slack as his eyes turn glazed. His lips part as a sigh of pure bliss escapes him. I can’t help but notice his naked cock growing in size until it’s poking Cal’s stomach. A strange, pink mist emits from Pussy Man’s open mouth and enters Cal’s. With every drag, color returns to Cal’s cheeks and his hair becomes glossier and fuller.

  The monster’s face begins to shrivel until the bones are visible through the papery, yellow skin. Panic flitters to life in Pussy Man’s jaundiced yellow eyes, but when he finally tries to fight back, his movements are weak and half-hearted. In almost slow motion, his skin begins to flake off in tiny particles, collecting in a pile by his feet. Soon, he’s nothing but bones.

  Cal is panting, his wings fluttering behind him as he stares down at the dismembered body.

  “Cal?” I whisper, uncharacteristically frightened. Of him.

  He smiles, slow and seductive, as his dimples appear in both of his cheeks. “They wanted to make me a monster, so a monster they shall get.”

  Dammit. My stomach is totally fluttering right now, and it’s no longer in a “I want to piss myself in fear” type of way. It’s more of a “psycho is a sexy look on him” way.

  “Are you okay?” Cal kneels beside me, surveying me with a disconcerting intensity. I feel small and delicate compared to his broad-shouldered frame.

  “It’s not every day that a pussy tries to poison me,” I slur, still feeling the effects of said poison. I know it’ll only be a few more minutes until my vampire healing kicks in and boots the toxin out of my system.

  “Come on.” Cal jumps to his feet and easily scoops me up, carrying me as if I’m a toddler. “I think we found what we were looking for.”

  “The portal?” I inquire, my eyelids drooping. Still, I force myself to follow the direction of his gaze to see room number 69 and the initials VD. Funny, Dimitri. Real fucking funny.

  “What the fuck happened!” Vin appears from around the corner, Frankie and Mason on his heels. His eyes flicker from the hounds and centaur to the rapidly decaying skeleton and then to me in Cal’s arms. Rage flares to life in his dark eyes as he takes a threatening step forward. “Give her to me.”

  Cal surprises me by growling. No lie. Actual, honest-to-fuck growling. He twists his body slightly to keep me hidden from the other men’s prying gazes.

  “Mine,” he bites out in an inarticulate voice as he sets me on my feet.

  Vin freezes automatically, something flashing in his hooded gaze too quickly for me to see. He raises his hands slowly, almost placatingly, as he ventures another step forward. Mason and Frankie do the same, the former appearing confused and the latter as impassive as ever.

  “We’re not going to hurt her,” Vin says slowly, one foot extended. Cal releases a hiss of air and drags us both backwards, stopping when my back is flush against the wall. He continues to huddle his body protectively over me, almost as if he considers the other three men threats. “But we need to go through the portal.”

  “Mine.”

  “Um…” I tap his shoulder impatiently, ignoring Vin’s warning shake of the head. “I’m not yours. I’m not anyone’s. If anything, you guys are all mine. So, ha.”

  Cal freezes before slowly, mechanically, turning his head to meet my eyes. “Yours?” His hand trails almost reverently down my cheek before cupping my jaw—in a completely platonic and friendly move, of course. “You’re beautiful. The most beautiful girl alive.”

  “Look, beauty is a concept constructed completely by society, and therefore cannot be measured, because different people have different opinions,” I babble. “And regardless of the definition, it cannot be quantified, so beauty can’t be accurately compared.”

  I have a serious case of foot-in-mouth disease.

  This is why my father disowned me.

  “Come on,” Mason says, shooting me an amused smirk. I bite down on my lip to keep from sticking my tongue out at him like a petulant five-year-old. “Let’s go home.”

  Home.

  At one point, that thought would’ve made warm flurries spring to life in my stomach. But now, it only makes me feel cold and empty. How can we go back to the Academy without Barret? How can we pretend that we’re okay when a piece of us is dead?

  I know Cal is on the same wavelength as I am when he tightens his arms almost imperceptibly around me.

  Vin, dagger raised, opens the door Pussy Man was blocking. A glimmering portal—shining like the stars themselves have been plucked from the sky and tossed into a swirling vortex—takes up the entirety of the room.

  “We need to wait for Hux and Jack,” I say defiantly, crossing my arms over my chest and adopting a fierce scowl. I know the effect is lost on the others when Cal begins to rock me like a baby.

  The guys exchange an eloquent look before, as one, they nod.

  “No can do, Pinkie!” Mason says cheerfully, skipping up beside Cal and pecking me on the nose. “Hux will roast us over a fire if we allow you to stay.”

  “You can’t make me leave,” I growl, unveiling my fangs. Mason’s expression only appears more amused.

  “Actually, we can.”

  Before I can protest, Vin sidles up to my other side and plucks me out of Cal’s arms. Then, he tosses me forward.

  Directly into the portal.

  CHAPTER 33

  VIOLET

  I’m spit out onto the Academy’s grounds in an undignified heap. Of course, the portal fucking hates me and decides to drop me down face first. And since my mouth was already open in a silent scream, I end up with a mouthful of dry dirt.

  Cursing Vin to hell and back, I stagger to my feet to the enthusiastic cheers of the assembled crowd. Those jovial cries abruptly fade away like a candle flame being blown out when they get their first look at who actually popped out of the portal. The silence is stifling—uncanny, almost—as I face the crowd with an imperious set to my chin. It feels as if I’m naked, their scrutiny flaying open my skin until my bones and tendons are revealed.

  Dimitri Gray leans against the wall with an almost insouciant slump. When he sees me, he straightens and smooths out his crisp black suit. Stalking forward, he grabs my hand and raises it into the air, a smirk on those delectably wicked lips.

  “Violet Dracula has completed Round One of The Roaring!” he declares into the stunned silence. I really should be offended. Half of the audience appears livid, as if they had hoped I would die in the games, while the other half seems genuinely confused, almost as if they can’t possibly believe that someone like me would win. Fuck them all. Anger swarms in my stomach as if a thousand angry bees have been released. I take a deep, c
alming breath, attempting to regulate my emotions before they explode out of me.

  The portal behind me sparks and fizzles, and a moment later, Vin gracefully rolls out, ending in a crouched position with his blade still clutched firmly in his hand.

  This time, the audience continues to cheer when Dimitri steps up beside him, takes his hand, and declares, “Vin Van Helsing has completed Round One of The Roaring!” Vin studiously ignores me, his eyes flickering to a group of men and women alike who are chanting his name. Other Van Helsings and hunters, if their blood-thirsty eyes are any indication. With one last furtive glance in my direction, noting the rage emanating from my eyes, he stalks towards his family with a raised chin and patronizing smirk.

  Asshole.

  Condescending, sexy asshole.

  How dare he shove me through the portal without my consent? How dare he? My anger continues to fester inside of me, thrumming through me like a wire of electricity.

  Mason, Frankie, and Cal soon follow, one after the other. Mason flashes the crowd a cocky grin as Dimitri announces his name to the masses. I can’t help but notice an abnormally tall woman near the front of the crowd bedecked in a gown of pure silver, snakes hissing and curling around her head. Is that…Medusa? Mason’s mother? She’s the only audience member who isn’t smiling, her lips compressed into a grim line. When she catches me staring, her eyes turn from haughty to livid, pure malice dripping from her as venomous as the poison from her snakes. She looks at me as if I killed her puppy.

  “We did it, Pinkie!” Mason cheers with a whoop, racing towards me and lifting me in his arms. He spins me around twice before reluctantly placing me back on my feet.

  I try to offer him a feeble smile, but it’s forced. I honestly don’t know how to feel right now. My emotions are turbulent and erratic. A part of me wants to curl into a ball and sob, my grief for Barret nearly palpable. I haven’t fallen apart yet, but that only means the crash is inevitable. You can’t lose someone you care about without severe ramifications. And intertwined with my grief is a need for vengeance so strong and staggering that I feel physically sick. I want to find Alex and his sick, sadistic father and kill them both. I want them to feel every ounce of pain and fear Barret did as he died. I want them to scream for relief—relief only I can give them. I want to be their fucking angel of death.

  Finally, I feel immense and cloying worry. I have no idea where Hux and Jack are, if they have made it back yet, if they’re still coming. I pray that they heard Dimitri’s ominous statement towards me before I was pushed through the portal. What if they didn’t make it to the hospital in time? What if they were injured?

  Panic pulses through me, and the only thing keeping me from completely succumbing to insanity is the knowledge that they’re still alive. I don’t know how to explain it, but I know innately that they’re still alive and well. I can feel their presence like a ball of light, hovering just at the edge of my awareness. I’m certain I could reach for it if I needed to, could caress it and let them know of my presence.

  Is it…?

  Is it because we’re mates?

  Before that lone, traitorous thought can get traction, Dimitri grabs my arm and begins to drag me towards the Academy’s entrance.

  “What the hell?” I gripe, craning my neck to stare back at the others. Cal is nowhere to be seen, but Mason and Frankie are staring after me with knowing expressions. I don’t see Vin, but I have no doubt he’s watching me, despite being hounded by his fan club. And no, I’m not salty, thank you very much. I have a fan club too. It’s just a different type. Mine is more of a “death to Violet Dracula” club. Pretty sure they have matching t-shirts with my face on them and a large red X slicing through the image.

  “We need to talk.” His words are domineering, succinct almost. The crisp nature of them matches his immaculate appearance.

  “Can’t we talk around witnesses?” I babble as he drags me down the hallway and towards his office. “You know, in case you murder me and hide my body?”

  I don’t actually believe he’s going to murder me, but a girl can never be too careful.

  “If I wanted you dead, you wouldn’t be standing here right now.” He turns his head slightly to stare at me with those frosty blue eyes of his. I gulp at the intensity of his gaze before ducking my head in an admittedly submissive move.

  When we reach his office, I’m surprised that his secretary is nowhere to be seen. At my curious expression, he states, “I gave Miss Birdy the week off to watch the games.”

  “Oh…that’s surprisingly nice of you.” I follow him into his office with only a little trepidation. Again, it’s not because I think he’s going to hurt me, but because everything about Dimitri confuses the shit out of me. He’s the epitome of contradictions—one second, he’s hot, and the next, he’s ice cold. I have no idea where I stand with him and what he even wants from me.

  “I’m not a monster, Ms. Dracula,” he purrs, leaning against his desk with his arms crossed and legs extended.

  “Technically, we’re all monsters.” I move to sit opposite him, the position allowing him to tower over me. I don’t feel any fear, however. Just safety.

  Which is ridiculous, because Dimitri is the most dangerous fucker around and can possibly kill me with his pinkie finger.

  And…

  Now, I’m imagining my headmaster repeatedly jabbing me with his pinkie finger until I fall to the ground covered in bloody welts.

  “I see that you listened to me for once,” he states in his deep, baritone voice that slides through me like whiskey. I know immediately he’s talking about his advice to travel to the hospital.

  “Next time you want to help, could you be a little more clear?” I raise a single eyebrow at him, and his face pinches together. “Maybe slide me a note? Send up a smoke signal?”

  “That would be cheating.” His frown deepens. “And I’m prohibited by magic to cheat.”

  “Then why did you…? Oh.” Understanding causes my eyes to widen slightly. “That’s why you were being all vague and shit.”

  “I was being as concise as possible.” His nose scrunches slightly, as if he has smelled something pungent. “I’m just grateful you listened to me.”

  My good mood instantly sours as pain spears my chest.

  “Barret didn’t make it,” I whisper hoarsely, the agony of that simple statement suffocating me.

  “That’s a shame.” Despite his words, Dimitri’s expression remains carefully blank and apathetic. That only exacerbates my rage, and I shoot to my feet with anger tightening my chest.

  “You don’t give a shit, do you?” I take a step closer, my pulse skittering at both his proximity and my own anger. “You don’t care that someone died.” It’s not a question.

  “People die all the time.” He stares down his nose at me, expression unreadable. “You may not be familiar with death yet, but you’ll have to learn. Death will follow you everywhere, Violet Dracula.”

  “Is that a threat?” I ask, my fangs lengthening in response to his words.

  “It’s a promise.” His cold eyes ensnare my own, and I’m helpless to look away. “But I also promise to protect you. I’m…” His face twists before settling into a grimace. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “People apologize about death when they have nothing else to say.” This close, his peppermint scent curls around me, warming my body. “But you’re not sorry. Not really. I think…I think you’re happy that he died and not me.” I gauge his reaction carefully, unsurprised to see no change in his expression. Still, I know that to be the truth. Dimitri will not hesitate to let the other men die if it means keeping me safe. But what I need to know is… “Why?”

  “Why does the sun rise and fall? Why is the grass green and the sky blue? Why do we all inevitably face death? Why are only some of us granted immortality? Why? That is the question, isn’t it? It’s the only word that encompasses every thought one may possess.”

  “Dimitri, don’t fuck around with me.�
�� My teeth are clenched so tightly, I’m afraid I’ll chip them. “I want answers.”

  He ducks his head until my entire vision is consumed by him. His heady, distinct scent surrounds me completely, consuming me from the inside out. It’s impossible to turn away from his icy, ethereal beauty—his unattainable beauty, as if he’s some god and I’m a besotted peasant.

  “Emotions are fickle things, Violet Dracula,” he says, his voice a decadent treat that I want to devour. “Why is your heart breaking? Why do you feel anxious? It’s because you have emotions. It’s because you care.”

  “Are you saying you care about me?” I breathe, though I shouldn’t be surprised. Dimitri has proved to me over and over again that I’m different from the other students. But it all circles back to my original question, “Why?”

  Why me?

  Why now?

  “Maybe you should focus less on what I’m saying…” His finger trails up my arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. He softly caresses my neck and then my cheek before outlining my lips with the pad of his thumb. “And more on what I’m not saying.”

  “I don’t like riddles, Dimitri,” I hiss, just barely holding in my moan. “Use your words like a big boy.”

  Dimitri’s eyes harden, and I fear that I pushed him too far, too fast. He leans over me, but I find that I don’t cower away in fear. Instead, I hold his gaze defiantly, watching the ice in his eyes begin to crack.

  He leans forward and kisses me.

  Maybe “kisses” is too tame of a term. Dimitri devours me as if he’s starving and I’m the only meal available. His lips claim my own ruthlessly and possessively, his teeth biting down on my bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. His hands go to my ass and cup both cheeks, pressing me against his straining erection.

  Oh. My. Fuck.

  I’m making out with Dimitri Gray.

  He grabs my hips and lifts me clean off my feet, spinning me around until my ass is on his desk. Throughout it all, his lips don’t leave mine, his tongue tangling with my own.

  His hands grab the front of my shirt and rip it down the middle. Immediately, his lips travel to the crest of my breasts revealed above my sports bra, sucking and licking at the sensitive skin.