by A. Vers
My face flamed.
Bracing myself, I held myself rigid as Ames crowded my spine. “May I touch you?” he asked.
I wanted to say no. To beg Mr. Wilcox to pick anyone else.
I ground my teeth. “Yes.”
Ames’ free arm skated around my waist. With one tight flex, I molded back into his chest, and his heartbeat thrummed into my spine. Or maybe that was the wild beat of mine.
In this position, his arm was like a vise, keeping me in place. But it felt different somehow. More demanding. He fit himself behind me, bending his larger body over me like a cocoon of lean muscle. I tried to ignore the press of his body. How strong he felt. How cool.
“May I move your hair?” From so close, his voice seemed to reverberate through my insides.
I nodded tersely.
Shockingly gentle hands eased the heavy fall of my hair to one side. The caress of his fingertips made me shiver. Soft and smooth. But so much cooler than mine.
The mix of sensations made my breath quicken.
Heat spiraled into me and I cursed my thirst and my body’s insane reaction to him.
Warm breath flowed over my neck and ear. “May I tilt your head?” he asked, his voice somehow deeper now. Licking my dry lips, I gave another nod. I could not speak even if I wanted to.
He gently cupped my chin, pressing it upward and to the side until my neck stretched taut in one long line. My insides quivered. The class watched—enraptured—as Ames lowered his dark head. His hair brushed my skin in a silky glide.
There was a small press of heat over my throat. I went taut, eyes flashing with lilac light. A light I could not hide. So I shut them fast, praying no one noticed as he kissed my neck.
Then he moved back, leaving me confused and cold despite the warmth in my body.
“Perfect, Mr. Treymore. Absolutely perfect. And your execution …” Wilcox gushed.
My eyes flew wide as the class murmured excitedly under their breath. I had to hide my face to shield the burn of my scorching cheeks.
Damn Ames.
“Now class, did you hear how he asked before every step?” Wilcox continued. No one paid me any heed as I crept back deeper into the shadows of the dim room. Their focus was all for Ames, who was grinning arrogantly as Wilcox raved over him more. “His donor’s comfort was at the forefront of every motion he made. That level of focus is what helps to create a lasting bond between a vampire and their feeder.”
He clapped again. “Now, switch roles and let us try again.”
***
By the end of Blood Drinking 101, my fangs remained down and I could not get them to retreat. Ames did not press me to keep practicing. Instead, he walked around the room with Professor Wilcox, and I fought to ignore his presence.
It didn’t work.
My mood was sour and my insides still shook.
That was the closest I had ever been to Ames even after all the years of knowing him. And for my body to react so traitorously …
When the bell rang, I waved off Riki and Roman and headed for the school nurse.
Damn Ames and his taunting.
It wasn’t bad enough the humans smelled so appetizing. No, now I had Ames flooding my mind with daydreams of his cool body pressed to mine. Of his hot blood pouring over my tongue.
Though if I ripped his throat out with my teeth, at least I wouldn’t have to deal with him anymore—
I collided solidly with something warm and hard.
Strong hands closed over my upper arms. “Whoa.” The voice was smooth, deep. A wave of spice and man filled my nose, searing into my already aching gums like electricity.
I wrenched back, eyes wide as the human male from the bus gazed down at me from less than a foot away.
His jaw was coated in the soft shadow of someone who shaved religiously, but his expression was just mild curiosity. “You okay?” he asked.
Every word was rich, unaccented teenage male. Distinct, well-articulated. I stood frozen like a deer in headlights.
His hazel eyes tracked over me. “Morgan, right?”
My name was enough to jolt me out of my daze. “Yeah.” I quickly switched to breathing through my mouth as more of his delicious scent coated my tongue. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see you.”
He waited, one brow raised. “I would’ve thought I was hard to miss.”
It took everything in me not to let my eyes roam over the strong swell of his shoulders or the tan line of his neck—
I backed up fast as thirst scorched my throat in hellish waves. “Sorry. I need to go.” I dove around him and sprinted headlong for the nurse’s office.
The door was closed, and I didn’t bother to knock as I barged inside. Oddly, the room was empty, but the old refrigerator purred loudly against the back wall.
I rushed up to it, keyed in my student code, and it unlocked with a click.
I only took one bag of donor blood. They kept close tabs on how much we used, and a single bag should be more than enough to sate me for a while.
It took seconds to heat it in the microwave on the counter, and less time than that to rip off one corner with my fangs.
The first draught left me leaning against the Formica top and I guzzled the rest fast.
Within moments, the fire in my throat eased. My fangs retreated back into my gums with only a small ache, and my eyes no longer cast neon glows over the brick walls.
I nearly cried.
“No more waiting,” I muttered as I walked toward the desk and the hazardous waste basket behind it.
I dropped the empty pouch in the bin before washing my face and hands. But the scent of stale pennies lingered. I scanned the floor.
Did I spill some?
The scent grew stronger as I searched for any accidental drops near the empty desk. My boot hit something soft under the low front. I stopped and inhaled.
Old blood filled the air in a cloud, making my eyes sputter with supernatural light. And it was coming from right in front of me.
Limbs shaking, I crouched slowly and leaned down. Bile washed up my throat, and I nearly vomited the blood I had just drank all over the floor.
Wedged under the desk, in the narrow space available, was one of the human students. Her hair was corn-silk and her open, unseeing eyes were a simple brown in the shadows under the desk. But there was more than enough light to see the horror that had been done to her.
The line of her throat was torn wide as she screamed silently in death.
I scrambled backward, putting distance between us.
The door behind me opened and I turned, startled.
Nurse McDowell hummed under her breath as she stepped inside, but the sound quickly died. “Morgan?” she began, catching sight of me. “What are you doing on the floor, dear?”
A low sound, like a whimper, poured up out of me before I could stop it. Her sweet expression clouded, and her eyes turned to molten gold as she inhaled in one strong pull.
Her head turned slowly, and I knew when she spotted the girl.
She clasped her hands over her own throat. “Oh Goddess,” she breathed. Dawning realization filled her still flawless features as she slowly pivoted to face me.
I knew how it looked. What she would think. She would jump to the same conclusion I had—
“Morgan, did you do this?” she demanded.
My jaw hit my chest.
How could she—
“What? No. Of course not.” But my fangs also were not down thanks to the blood I had drunk, and my eyes still glowed softly from surprise.
Her jaw clenched and then rippled before she strode to the door and lifted the in-house phone. “Headmistress Harrington?” My blood turned to ice in my veins. Nurse McDowell peered at me in obvious discontent, and I shrunk back from the scathing path of her gaze. “We have a situation in my office.”
Chapter 6
Ryder
In all the strangeness of transitioning humans into Lokworth, the school board had enough sense to add in
curriculum. So my schedule read like this:
Midnight-1 AM: Homeroom (Human Studies)
1:05-1:50 AM: Donor Life (The Feeding Needs of Vampires)
2:10-3:00 AM: The Health of All (How Technology Impacts Nature & the Fae)
3:05-3:45 AM: Interrace Relations
3:50-4:30 AM: First Meal
4:45-5:30 AM: Running with Wolves (A Guide to Shapeshifters)
I had it memorized but kept opening it back up every time I wanted a good chuckle.
It was hard to say why they thought humans would care about any of it. I assumed it was to better help us understand the different races. Personally, I knew all I needed to know.
Thomas and Rhett followed me out of Fae Studies, their heads bent together as they muttered about something sports related. I ignored them and led the way to our fourth period.
A commotion had drawn together a rather large group of students near the end of the hall. In the same direction the girl—Morgan—had gone in such a hurry earlier.
I peered over the mass of supernaturals.
The opaque windows of the room across from me were silhouetted with masculine frames complete with hands on their hips. The room seemed packed. Even from here. An older looking woman with gold eyes was standing in the doorway, chewing at her lower lip.
Two of the shapes peeled off, and the woman moved as a covered gurney was wheeled out of the room.
I blinked.
The black bag on top of the stark white sheet was almost gut-wrenchingly visible. Thomas and Rhett fell silent behind me.
“Ryder?”
I looked over as Stacy Marks, one of the girls from my old homeroom, stepped out from the hall beside us. Her eyes went from me to the gurney and she turned ghostly white. “Oh god. What happened?”
“No idea,” I said, but inside I already knew.
There was only one reason you needed a bag like that. The only question in my mind was if it was a human or a supe inside it?
“Well ... It seems someone isn’t overly happy about your kind being at Lokworth.” The voice was masculine and cocky.
I turned.
The male was as tall as me, with long midnight hair, gold eyes, and luminescent skin.
Vampire.
He grinned at my scrutiny, flashing long fangs, and a touch of light spilled from his eyes.
And he was a full-blood.
Great.
My pulse remained steady, as it should, when faced by a fanger. “You were saying?”
Some of his arrogance slipped, giving a glimpse of unbridled anger. I scoffed under my breath.
Welcome to the club, fangboy.
“You humans don’t belong at Lokworth,” he said, walking closer with a grace that only the supernatural races possessed. No matter how hard humans tried to mimic it, we couldn’t.
“Says who?” I asked. “You?”
The fangs made a broad return as he gazed past me. “Oh no,” he murmured. “I would never harm a human. However, someone doesn’t share my discipline.”
My head whipped over as the paramedics faded down the hallway, gurney between them. I knew what was in the bag, if not who.
One of us.
A human.
The damn supes had killed off a human, and we weren’t even halfway through the first day.
I scoured the hall for a professor. Someone that could give me answers.
There was a familiar dark head being led up the opposite hall by Headmistress Harrington.
I didn’t think about it, I took off at a run.
Students parted, human and other, as I burst through the masses. Even Thomas and Rhett were hard pressed to keep up with me. But now was not the time to slow. Now was the time for answers.
The girl, Morgan, turned before the Headmistress. Her cheeks were pink and her eyes red-rimmed. She was caved inward on herself, body hunched, and something like real pain was stamped into her features.
I forced myself to look away. “Headmistress?” I started.
Harrington turned to me, her face near grey in coloring. “Mr. Hanlon?”
I squared my shoulders like dad always taught me. If you wanted to be seen and treated like an equal, you needed to know your worth. “What happened?”
She grimaced. “That is not up for discussion, Mr. Hanlon—”
“Nice try,” I snapped, cutting her off and consequences be damned. “It was one of the humans, wasn’t it? Who?”
Her teeth bared slightly. “Since I am sure your father will tell you, I see no qualm with sharing this. It was Eliza Marks.”
Stacy’s sister.
My vision fogged for a moment before I could stop it. Before I could process the fact someone else’s family member was dead because of an other.
“Who?” The word was ground out from between my teeth with force.
Harrington scowled. “Never you worry, Mr. Hanlon. We will discipline our own.” Her gold eyes dropped to Morgan. “Come, Ms. Read.”
Morgan shrunk back beside her, drawing my focus more.
Her lilac irises swam with tears, but no supernatural light. She peered up at me. “I’m sorry for your loss,” she whispered.
“That is enough, Ms. Read. Now come along.” Harrington hauled her by the arm and together they moved off down the hall.
There was little doubt in my mind that Morgan knew exactly who had killed Eliza. And I had every intention of getting that information from her. But for now …
I turned back to where Stacy stood with Thomas and Rhett.
She would need to know it was her sister they had carted away. And I would need to call dad and tell him our plan had just hit its first speed bump.
I exhaled and ran a hand through my hair before starting back.
That was a conversation I was looking even less forward to, than the one I was walking toward.
Chapter 7
Morgan
Headmistress Harrington’s office was dim as we entered. She motioned me silently into a chair before her desk and set about lighting the lamps. As the glow illuminated the far corners of her bookshelves, incredulity gradually replaced the cold fear inside me.
They really believed I killed her.
After all the years at the Academy … It all meant nothing.
“Morgan,” she began, head bowed and her back to me. “You have to understand how this looks.”
I sat forward. “Headmistress, you know I wouldn’t do this,” I tried again.
She remained turned away. “Morgan … I want to believe that. But—”
“But what?” I retorted. “I’m a vampire? So what? The Lokworth colony is over thirty strong. I’m not the only one here.”
“But you were the only one there,” she said, whipping around finally. “You were in the room alone with the victim. That much we know. I only have your word to go on that you did not do this. And given the history of your arrival—”
“What about the bite dimensions?” I asked fast, mind whirring. “Did anyone check the bite dimensions?”
Her head shook. “The girl’s throat was too badly damaged. There is no way to get an accurate fang distance.”
My vision swam and I sagged back into my chair.
Whoever killed her knew enough about vampires to know that tearing out her throat was like wiping down the scene for fingerprints.
“What about the human police?” She looked at me as I spoke. “They have technology we don’t. Maybe they could—”
“I am going to have enough trouble keeping this localized as a one-time incident, Morgan. I cannot involve the human authorities any more than we already have.” Her expression grew solemn. “I have no choice but to contact your guardians.”
If I thought my world had teetered before, it was nothing to what kind of impact those simple words had on me.
“Please, Headmistress,” I begged, throat closing. “You know what they will say. You can’t call them.”
Lokworth was a lot of things, but it was my last hope. My last cha
nce to figure out how to be a normal vampire citizen. I was sent to Lokworth because my guardians had no other options. It was the Academy or the Council. And if they convicted me of being a killer ...
I shuddered.
Headmistress Harrington watched me, her expression torn. “Morgan—”
The door to her office opened. We turned, and in the doorway Professor Giroux waited with a kind of sinister quiet. “I fear I must interject in these proceedings,” he said blandly and without preamble.
The headmistress gaped. “Beg pardon?”
He came inside without being asked and carefully shut the door behind him. The finality behind that click was profound. “As the new human relations professor, I must tell you that this incident does not spark a healthy response from either party involved.”
Harrington scowled again, seemingly over her momentary shock. “I am quite aware. Now if you don’t mind—”
“Are you?” he interjected. “Aware, I mean?” His steps led him over the oriental rug in the center of the floor and right up next to my chair. “This young—vampire—could not possibly be the cause of all of this.”
“Not that I am disagreeing, but why do you say that?” I asked without thinking.
Giroux’s black eyes rolled down to me as though he forgot I was present. He appraised me like one would a child that spoke out of turn, or maybe a bug on your shoe. “It takes time to drain a human body. Time and enough mouths to hold so much. She is but one,” he said, turning back to Harrington. “And much too small to drain someone without being covered in residual blood.”
The Headmistress flinched. “She was found in the office with the human girl. I cannot merely overlook that.”
“There is a simple test to prove her innocence,” Giroux said, talking over her.
My heart slammed and I stared at him. “I’ll do it.” I rose to my feet fast, and they both turned to me. I didn’t care what the test was. I had not killed the human girl. “I know I’m innocent. I’ll prove that however I need to.”
Giroux motioned absently in my direction. “Have her walk out into the dawn. If the sun does not burn her flesh, she is pure of the slaughter of innocent lives and therefore free to go.”
