I slowed to a stop and turned. “So, you guys go around killing vampires in their sleep?”
Mitch held up his hands. “Are you actually going to cry about that vampire now? My brother isn’t blackmailing me enough for this. Read my lips.” He pointed to his mouth. “I want crab legs.”
“I’m not crying, but you have to admit that what happened in there was seriously messed up. The vampire couldn’t defend itself.”
Mitch laughed, shaking his head. “Defend itself. Vampires kill a human a night. Every single night, and guess what, they don’t need that much blood. That vampire in there decayed within seconds, meaning that he was probably a century old. Meaning, he’s murdered tens of thousands of people, maybe more. And he collects humans on the side.”
Mitch’s every word felt like a balm to my sickness, and by the time he was finished, my heart had slowed to its normal cadence and stomach stilled within me.
“Oh,” I said.
“Yeah,” Mitch snapped. “What you obviously were too emotional to listen to was that shifters killed humans, as do demons and all sorts of creatures, but nothing in this world compares to the body count of vampires. Half of the Hawthorn Group’s work is covering up the massacres nightstalkers leave behind. So, can we go now?”
“Where?” I asked.
“To the seafood buffet.” He yelled it at me like a freaking four-year-old. “I’m hungry.”
“Then go eat!” I turned the other direction and headed back to the dorms. If the only place I could shake this asshat was my room, then so be it. I definitely wasn’t going to lead him down to Bailey, and she wouldn’t be arriving for a couple of hours anyway.
Halfway back to the dorms, Mitch leaned over and vomited straight into a bush. He stumbled out of it and whispered, “Damn it, I need a hair of the dog.”
Wow.
I halted. “You’re still drunk from last night?”
He wiped the corners of his mouth with his sleeve. “What’s it to you, Dirtbag?”
“Nothing, you’re just really good at hiding it. That’s not a compliment or anything. But usually, I can tell.”
“Dirtbag, I am a professional at hiding it.” He pressed his fingers into his temples and squeezed his eyes shut, making me wonder if it was just booze he was coming off of. “You’re not going to offer to play my nursemaid?”
“No. I was practically raised with hangover nursemaid as my role in life, and it took me a lot to quit it. So, you’re on your own.”
“Stop talking,” he said. “Has anyone ever told you that your voice is extremely grating?”
“No, the opposite actually,” I said, but I had no problem staying silent as we rushed across the quad, through the drying grass and lackluster shade of the oaks, all the way down to Gregory Hall. Several people shouted their hellos to Mitch, who ignored most of them and waved to a few of the guys.
Mitch made it up to his apartment, but as I opened my door, he barged in after me, rushed to my kitchen and vomited in my sink. The sight had my own stomach churning, and the moment he was done, I pointed to the door. “Out. Get out. Go away, Mitch.”
He ran the sink, splashing water over the metal. “I have to stick with your nasty ass until your orientation is over and you head to the Hawthorn Group tonight.”
I pointed to the door. “No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do. Deal with it.”
“Fine.” I walked over to my front door and shoved my shoe under it until it stuck open. “You can stay in the hall, but you’re not welcome in my apartment, ever.”
Mitch grabbed my water glasses, filled all of them to the brim, grabbed a couple of pain killer pills, and went to sit in my doorway.
“You might want to sip slowly,” I called out as I headed toward my room.
“Fuck you, Dirtbag. I do what I want,” he said it in a singsong voice. But when I peeked out, he was taking small sips. Within five minutes, he was asleep. Using my foot, I nudged Mitch fully into the hall until he toppled over, crumpling to the side of the hallway.
When I looked at him snoring there, I winced as my stomach clenched.
Damn it.
Even though I just wanted to sneak off, I made sure the guy was on his side and breathing normally. This was a high traffic area, and there were definitely security cameras on him. More than likely, security was already heading up. The thought had me hurrying to shut my door and slip down the hall.
The moment the elevator doors shut, relief washed through me. It wasn’t that I couldn’t handle a bully. I was physically weak and dirt poor. I’d been dealing with every variety of bully of every age since before I could remember. Mitch was unexceptional at best — aside from the time warp crap. But after everything that just happened, I needed to be around people I liked.
Someone had propped open the main door of Gregory Hall with a rock, and students streamed in and out. The purple paint on the walls of the second-floor hallway wasn’t anywhere near fresh, and the hardwood floors had wear marks deeply embedded into the grain, but the area felt so much more alive than the austere fifth-floor corridor. All down the hall, colorful artwork decorated the doors. Dry-erase boards hung next to each room, holding messages like, "Came by, call me," and, "Love you!" I was only really half paying attention as I knocked on the room number Susie gave me.
The door opened, and I called out, "I am so sorry that I bailed on you last night ..." I trailed off, seeing Susie's trembling lip and red, puffy eyes. "Susie, what's the matter?"
She peered around me and then waved into her room.
"Did something happen?"
Susie shook her head. "It's not important, and you just went through orientation. You probably have so many questions." She gestured to her bed. "Here, come in. I'll stop freaking out, I promise."
I took a seat on her comforter but immediately turned to her. "Susie, we don't have to talk about whatever's going on, but if you want to, I'm here, okay? I don't have any questions about orientation. I just wanted to be around you."
She sniffed and nodded, heading to her closet mirror and wiping the tears off her cheeks. She had pulled her hair back tight against her head. It was the first time I ever saw her hair up. Her eyes were bloodshot, and I was pretty sure that I’d just interrupted an ugly cry that had required her to put her hair out of the way.
Susie's space was as beautiful and decorated as I imagined it would be. Feathery angel wings spread across one wall, spanning the length of a twin bed with a pink and purple comforter. About a hundred pillows and a couple of well-worn stuffed animals sat in the corner. Her room smelled of vanilla and cinnamon. Photos decorated a corkboard with tons of familiar, smiling faces. Her roommate’s side of the room was starkly decorated with only a computer and a bedspread along with several unpacked boxes.
"It's so stupid." Susie took a seat beside me and handed me her phone. "Here."
On her screen were the words: I can't stop thinking about us. Do you ever wish that we could try again?
"From Zack?" I asked because the name above the text thread said Mr. Sexy.
"He put his own name in. Such a dork.” She sniffed. "I know this is the right time to tell him, but I can't make myself do it. I'm a horrible, awful person."
"Are you kidding me, Susie? I spent yesterday evening with Sebastian Holter. He is a horrible person. You are an angel who fell in love with your best friend. You're not cheating on Zack. You two broke up a long time ago."
She wiped at her tears and shook her head. "I just wish he'd meet someone and move on and be happy."
"He will," I said.
"I have to tell him about Richard, don't I? Richard thinks we should. He's getting really frustrated with me about it." Susie bit her lip so hard; it looked painful. She curled up her legs under her and hugged her chest. "Every time I go to do it, I feel like I'm having a panic attack."
I kicked off my shoes and crossed my legs under me. "I'd tell you, yes, but I'm the queen of avoidance when it comes to hurting the people I love, so
I don't really have any right to say it. I'll be on your side no matter what you do."
Her face scrunched up, and another tear slipped down her cheek. "You're the only one. What if it tears our group apart? We're only just healing from what Justin ..." Her eyes widened, and she trailed off, "Sorry."
"It's fine. You can talk about how Justin hurt you guys even though he's my boyfriend. I love him, but that doesn't mean that I think what he did to you guys last year is okay. It would be wonderful if you all became friends again, but at the end of the day, it's not my place or my business. I'll just stay on the sidelines caring about you all separately."
Susie sighed. "I'd be lying if I said that certain people aren't holding it against you."
"By certain people, are you referring to Patrick?"
Patrick Alby was my number one non-fan at the school. If I pushed Patrick out of a meteorite’s path, he’d say that it was my fault the stars were falling.
Susie winced. "Patrick and a couple of others — not the Baldwins, Mia, Richard, or me."
I couldn't help but notice she didn't mention Braiden in that count. He was the only other member of the club I'd been forming an almost friendship with. "It's stupid really; we were the ones who actually helped you prepare for the trials — oh, and Michael and Charlie stay out of every conflict."
"What are they saying?" I asked.
Her gaze fell to her lap. "That you tricked us, and now you're buddying up with the enemy and can't be trusted."
"You don't believe it, do you?"
Her gaze snapped up to mine. "Of course not. It's ridiculous. And, it's not like they didn't already know you had a relationship with the Roberts family. I guess they just didn't expect you to become his girlfriend, and there's so much resentment there. And now you're on the fifth floor."
"Not by choice. "
She pointed to her chest. "I know, January. I promise that I'm on your side too. I really hate the us-vs-them stuff. But I would be lying if I said that it doesn't feel that way a lot of the time."
I squeezed my eyes shut and asked, "Is it going to be points for me or against me that I'm being pushed into an internship at the Hawthorn Group and have to go there every day."
She didn't say anything, and when I opened my eyes, I could read how very bad that was from her expression.
"It's not by choice. Sebastian is basically planning to beat the crap out of me every day and calling it an internship."
"You're going to be working directly with Prime?" Her jaw sagged open.
"Yeah. So, could that be points in my favor? No one wants to be Prime's daily punching bag, right?" I sounded desperate, but I really liked the Bad Boys Club, and a lot of this stuff was out of my control.
Susie bit her lip, and her shoulders fell. "I'm sorry, January. But all of these guys have been desperately fighting to get internships with the Hawthorn Group, and most of them ended up delivering coffees at headquarters. Richard got an internship as an office admin, and there was a lot of resentment toward him, even though everyone knew that he more than earned it." She pointed to herself. "I'm happy that you're getting fast-tracked to the top. I guess everyone else just thought that since you started at such a disadvantage, you were going to continue to be at the bottom, struggling with us."
Gods above, I wished that I could tell her. Fact is, I'm a dhampir. But, when I thought about it, that would just be another way that I wasn't like the Bad Boys Club members.
"Can I still hang around you guys? I really like you." Tears pricked at my eyes at the words. I barely knew these people, but I'd already been getting attached to them.
"Yes." Her tone brooked no argument, making the tension in my heart subside. "You're very welcome, and you know what, Zack is the unofficial leader anyway, and he really likes you. They're just a bunch of bitter gossips. Here." She scooped up her phone from the bed. "I will unrepentantly use you to change the conversation with Zack and solve both of our problems."
She typed in a message and showed it to me.
Susie: January is here and really sad that the BBC is talking bad about her because of Justin and that she got the HG scholarship. She's scared everyone is going to hold it against her that they gave her an internship she can't turn down. She still wants to be part of the BBC and is afraid that she's not welcome anymore.
By the time I finished reading, Zack's reply popped up on the screen.
Zack: she's always welcome. Tell Blondie congratulations on the internship.
I wrote back, this is me now, thanks but it's going to be hell on earth.
Zack: No pain. No gain. Do you have a phone yet? Asking for a friend.
"I actually do." I pulled my phone out of my pocket and showed it to Susie. "But I have no idea what my number is."
Susie took my phone and called her own number, and, with my permission, she sent my number out to the Baldwin Brothers, Richard, and Mia. And, moments later, I got a text from Lucas.
Lucas: You are always welcome to hang out with me, April.
Me: Thanks, Walt.
It was a joke that we'd started as Mrs. Roberts continually forgot our names and called us by the wrong ones. She called Lucas Walter and called me April. I had no doubt that she knew my true name now. But, reading Lucas' message, the last of the tension left my chest. Of all of the Bad Boys Club, this was the group I cared about. If the other guys didn't like me and talked behind my back, it would be disappointing, but I'd live with it.
After a second, I peered over at Susie from the side of my eye. “Hey. As my nana would say, how did we somehow get from talking about your problems to mine?”
She gave me a coy smile that looked just the littlest bit sad. “I guess I’m still not ready to deal with this one.”
“Well, you can count on my support when you do.” Seeing from her expression that she was ready to change the subject, I asked, “Hey Susie, you up for a fieldtrip to the kennels? Bailey should be there by now, and I wanted to get her into my apartment before Sebastian sent his car for me.”
Bailey was off-the-charts excited when Susie and I arrived in the kennels. The other dogs at the kennel were shepherds as well, but she stood out from the perfectly behaved dogs because her whole body wagged as we approached. Susie showed us the way to the tennis courts out in the shade of Gregory Hall, and we threw discarded tennis balls for Bailey until she flopped down. By the time we headed back in, the weight of what I had witnessed this morning had lessened, and I hadn’t even mentioned it aloud.
I guess I’d been still somewhat thinking of myself as a vampire up until that point. But clearly, I wasn’t. I knew better than anyone that your genetics didn’t define you.
Mitch Holter was still passed out in the hallway when I returned. Someone had drawn a dick on his cheek in what looked like permanent marker.
Lovely.
Obviously, Mitch was well liked by the people on this floor.
Bailey wanted to lick the guy, but I grabbed her collar and held her away.
After getting my door open, I led her slowly and carefully to step over Mitch’s body and closed the door behind us. I fed Bailey and changed. Then I wrote Mitch a note stating that I was leaving for the Sebastian-torture internship and that someone drew a dick on his face while he was sleeping in the hallway. I figured letting him stumble downstairs like that, while grimly satisfying, was not a very neighborly thing to do, and I had a feeling that my dealings with Mitch Holter weren’t even close to over.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Dressed in a just-above-the-knee pleated skirt, white dress shirt, purple vest, and paint-covered sneakers, I waited in the fifth-floor elevator, trying to breathe through the cloud of mingled perfume and cologne. There were only two people in the damn elevator, but between Amber and Rockstar Mark, my eyes were watering and lungs burning. When the elevator doors finally opened, sweet oxygen wafted through.
The two practically raced for the door, but I headed over to the security desk and peered down at Dickhead sitting behind it. Thi
s was actually my second time seeing Bernard this morning, the first being when I woke up at the crack of dawn to walk Bailey to the kennels where she’d be spending her days while I was in class. He’d completely ignored my existence then, and I had this probably ill-advised idea.
“Hi,” I said as I stopped before him.
Dickhead glanced up, and his eyes narrowed on me. From the few interactions I’d had with this guy, I could tell the fifth-floor guard’s distaste was for me specifically. He let other students sneak their friends up. He let other students pass out drunk in the hallway. And if I didn’t want to deal with a cloud of the guy’s toxic negativity twice a day, I was going to have to win him to my side somehow.
Smiling as wide as I could, I held one of the muffins I made for myself late last night as I planned my food for the week. “I have an extra muffin; do you want it?”
The guy’s brown eyes slid to my muffin and then back to me. “No. Is there something wrong with it?”
“I’ll take it.” The low voice came from beside me, and then suddenly, Justin was there, biting into my blueberry muffin.
“Hey,” I said through a laugh. “What are you doing here?”
His eyes warmed with affection while he chewed, and his arm wrapped around my shoulders. “I got your schedule and thought maybe I could be your map.”
“Have a good day,” I called back to the security guard, knowing that it wasn’t going to be reciprocated, and we headed into the warm morning. Instead of taking the muffin when I offered it, Justin grabbed my wrist and continued to eat it out of my hand.
“You are such a weirdo,” I said as we joined the crowd heading up to the main school building. “Just take the muffin.”
“It tastes better this way.”
Warmth bubbled up in my chest, and I wasn’t sure if it was excitement for my first day of school or for being wrapped in this boy’s arm.
Hunter Trials (The Vampire Legacy Book 2) Page 6
