Last Chance Academy

by Alex Lidell

  Finally, right as I’m about to flee the room for good, furious at the tears pressing against the backs of my eyes, the conversations and dancing haltingly pick back up, decorum taking over once more. I start looking for a corner to hide in, but a cool palm slides over my lower back, and I turn to find a tall dark-haired vampire in a tight-fitting Versace tuxedo by my side. If I thought Cassis’s suit at Dusk was spectacular, this one is cut to show off his broad shoulders and taut waist with a designer’s perfection. I notice the red handkerchief in his pocket, the exact same shade as my dress—and the male’s small, satisfied smile as I do.

  “Ignore them, Samantha,” he murmurs. “You look positively sinful.”

  “What are you doing here?” I ask, trying to also ignore the mix of heat and indignation that his closeness sends through me. The gorgeous bastard all but put a claiming tag on me with that little move, and I hate how much I like it. Plus, from the piercing looks still coming my way, I have a feeling that standing here with him is doing nothing to help my cause. Sex and power drip off him as clearly as a scent, drawing every demivamp eye in the room, female and male.

  “I didn’t think you ever stepped foot on Academy grounds,” I say, trying to keep my words from shaking.

  “Not when there isn’t a party.” Cassis takes a drink from the tray of a passing waitress without either missing a step—or caring who the whiskey’s intended recipient was. Stepping within arm’s reach, he raises his glass, an approving smile tugging his lips. “Here’s to my estimation of a female’s figure. I am pleased to see the skill hasn’t left me.”

  The heat in my cheeks pulses. “You shouldn’t have.” He really shouldn’t have.

  “But you are glad I did,” Cassis purrs, his perfectly coiffed dark hair and smoothly angled face those of a perfectly delicious playboy. As if the male who trembled as he showed me the scar on his back never existed. Cassis lifts both brows at me. “So, when did you figure it out?”

  “When I saw the too-low neckline and utterly absent back, Cassis.” I bite my lip. Snark aside, the gown is the most beautiful piece of clothing I’ve ever worn, much less owned. “I—thank you.”

  “Ah, so the witch does have those words in her vocabulary.” The corner of his mouth twitches in a smile, and he deposits his empty glass on an approaching waiter’s tray. Slipping the man a hundred dollar bill, Cassis plucks the two lone drinks from the same tray, handing one of the flutes to me.

  Savoring the sweet, berry aroma, I curse under my breath. Cassis liquor. There was nothing accidental about this waiter’s approach. The refreshments had been ordered before Cassis even started walking over to me.

  I toast him the way he raised his glass to me and keep our gazes locked as I drink. I’ll be damned if I give him the satisfaction of knowing he surprised me again. As the warm sip slides down my throat, I let my attention brush the eight-foot-diameter candlelit chandelier swaying from the top ceiling beam. The flickering candlelight reflects off the tall windows, which have the curtains pulled back to display the star-filled sky beyond. Making a full circle back, my attention rests on the violin quartet, the musicians now exchanging solemn notes as they tune their instruments.

  “Where do you think the Academy found a quartet…suitable to be playing here?” I ask.

  “They are vampires,” Cassis says simply in answer to my unasked question, snatching a chocolate truffle from a passing waitress. Given the woman’s surprised squawk, I expect her to smack his wrist for the offense, but seeing who just stole her order, she smiles instead. Of course she does.

  “Is she a vamp too?” I ask.

  “Not at all. We do employ humans with proper discretion.” Cassis smiles at me, mischief written all over his eyes. “And just in case the discretion alone doesn’t work, there are always other ways of persuasion.”

  “Compulsion,” I say flatly.

  “That and a lot of money,” Cassis grins, allowing his canines to elongate slightly in a way that sends heat spiraling through me—and then shame that I somehow find murder weapons sexy. “They must have taught you something about compulsion in this great place they tell me is a school. Compulsion works much better when you suggest your mark do something they already would like to be doing.”

  “Is that how vamps make themselves feel good about compelling girls into their beds?” I ask, my drink suddenly tasting sour. “‘She wanted it, otherwise my compulsion wouldn’t have worked.’”

  “I wouldn’t know,” Cassis answers, stepping close enough to me that I smell his spicy perfume, his powerful body spilling like liquid night through my space. Reaching out with his finger, Cassis traces a blunt, neatly trimmed nail along my jaw, and I feel myself dampening from the unspoken suggestion alone. The tip of his tongue flickers over his teeth, and he brings his lips so close to my ear that his breath tickles my skin. “I’ve never had a female not wanting to bed me.”

  “Cassis.” Ellis’s hard voice breaks between us as the male strides over with Asher, Reese following warily a few steps behind. Reese’s eyes flick to me for a moment before settling somewhere in the air above Cassis’s head. In a black suit with his dark hair slicked into a tight bun, hands clasped behind his back, he looks like a very dangerous, very expensive bodyguard. “Have you paid your respects to Count Victor yet? I think there might be a ring to be kissed or something similarly enticing.”

  “Oh, I’ve plenty of enticing ideas,” Cassis says, dropping one hand casually on my hip while Ellis crosses his arms over his chest. “Few of them involving Victor, though.”

  The air between the males seems to thicken.

  Exchanging a quick glance with Asher, Reese steps forward. The kind of step that would send mere mortals crawling under the closest bed. “Is there a problem, gentlemen?”

  “Many,” Cassis assures him.

  “No, sir,” Ellis says with no more respect in his tone than Cassis had a moment earlier.

  I clear my throat, stepping forward with a shit-eating grin instead of running away like a smart person. “Can one of you tell me more about this Victor?” I ask, redirecting the males’ attention with the time-honored power of annoying questions. “All I know is that he’s a Council member and a powerful figure in, err, Romania.”

  A small smile of approval flickers over Reese’s lips, which makes his severe face soften for a moment—and become far, far too beautiful. My knees soften right along with it, no matter how much I fight it.

  “You are correct on both counts, Samantha. But one of the reasons Victor’s presence in Talonswood is unusual is because his clan has always advocated for separation of the species.” Reese turns slightly to watch a tall man, who I presume to be the count in question, making his rounds about the room. “He led the vampire forces during the fae-vamp wars. Though he was a great deal scruffier back then.”

  Tall and dark haired, Victor looks like he’d be in his midforties as a human and as fit as Cassis and the others. His pinstripe suit is slightly out of place amidst a sea of tuxedoes, but somehow, it makes the vampire look only more predatory. That and the way all the vampires he passes drop their gazes to the ground and go so far as to drop to their knees to extend Victor champagne and strawberries, which the male ignores as thoroughly as the kneeling demis. Victor’s eyes survey the ball with battlefield precision, and I know the exact moment they land on me.

  A chill tickles my neck, my hand inexplicably desperate to rub my throat. I do.

  As one, Cassis and Ellis step toward the bar, as if suddenly craving a drink and coincidentally breaking the direct line of sight between Victor and me. The moment they do, my hand falls away from my throat, my muddled mind blinking away the confusion.

  A test. The count tried to compel me from across the room, and it worked.

  20

  Sam

  My breath quickens, and I clench my hands, my palms clammy.

  “Look at me, Samantha,” Reese orders softly, drawing all my attention to his face. Up close, his blue eyes are far from
flat or expressionless—they swirl with thought and calculation, as if he’s taking in every bit of information in the room all at once, and parsing out which he needs to pay attention to. “Take a deep breath.”

  The pupils of his eyes darken in that way I’ve come to associate with compulsion, and I step back away from him, doing the very opposite. “What the hell is it with you all?” I demand, before I realize who I’m talking to. My face pales. I’ve seen Reese discipline cadets for far less. “I’m sorry, sir.”

  Reese frowns, but seems more surprised than angry. “I will accept your apology if you accept mine,” he says, that politeness slamming down like a wall between us. “But if I might ask, is there anyone else whose compulsion doesn’t affect you? Plainly, Victor’s did.”

  I frown. “Cassis. He tried once or twice. I think that’s why he finds me…intriguing.”

  “Indeed,” says Reese in that unreadable British accent of his.

  “Your attention, please.” Victor’s rich baritone rolls through the ballroom, followed by the sound of a decorative knife clinking against crystal. “If I might borrow your ears for a few words.”

  The room quiets, the quartet toning down their music in perfect smoothness until there’s just a hint of sound to provide ambiance to Victor’s words.

  “As many of you know, I’ve had quite a few centuries under my belt,” Victor starts. “I was here when Talonswood Reform Academy was first established on the island. And to be honest, I did not think for a second that it would work. The Talonswood Island—so named for its forest and gateway to the Talon kingdom—is remarkable enough for being a neutral ground for all species, but could it be expected to support a whole academy? Blood-sworn enemies living and learning beneath the same roof? The idea was absolutely ludicrous. But yet here you are. Thriving. Bonding. Growing stronger together. It is an honor and a privilege to be standing here with you, seeing what you have built.”

  Victor pauses, his dark eyes swinging to me. “In fact, I understand this is the first year that Talonswood Reform is truly home to all three creature species. Please join me in a round of applause for the newest student, Samantha Devinee, a true witch, and Dean Javin, under whose unwavering leadership this fine institution thrives. Noroc!”

  “Noroc!” The words echo throughout the room, the band striking up again as the guests politely empty their glasses. I’m fairly certain the mention of the absentee dean was a jab, but why mention me?

  I answer my own question a moment later as Victor and Quinn walk directly toward me, Quinn all but prostrating himself before the older vampire. The cold kiss of Victor’s gaze sends icicles down my spine as he and Quinn stop beside me.

  “Count Victor,” Quinn says with a bow, never looking Victor in the eye. “Allow me to introduce our newest student, Samantha Devinee.”

  “Good evening.” Refusing to be intimidated, I keep my head raised and shoulders back as I extend my hand to the vampire.

  Taking my hand gently between his fingers, Victor brings it to his mouth and brushes chilled lips over my knuckles. Up close, his power is even more overwhelming, the fine lines around his eyes and mouth betraying his more than a thousand years of age—and only serving to make him more distinguished. Even his scent seems intentional, as rich and heady as a fine aged red wine. “It is enchanting to make your acquaintance, my dear,” he says. “Might you do me the honor of this dance?”

  I can hear the music already swaying into a fox-trot, the notes singing to me in a way my feet have no chance of keeping up with. “I’m afraid I don’t know how, Your…errr, Grace.”

  Victor laughs politely. “Your Excellence would do for a count, but such forms of address are largely out of style nowadays.” Something about his tone says that, despite his words, this modern decline in etiquette makes him less than happy. “As for the dance, I believe I know the steps well enough to guide you through them if you would allow it.”

  I wonder if he means to compel me through the dance, but there isn’t a way of asking that without creating a scene, especially since I’m already feeling his hand on my back, nudging me to the dance floor. Damn. The acoustics here are even better than on the sidelines. Of all the places the count could have chosen, the heart of music is the one place that gives me courage.

  When I was a kid, some of the families’ real children would take music lessons, and while I would never be permitted to do the same—who’d want to spend sixty dollars an hour to teach some foster brat piano?—they generally allowed me to watch. Discovering how the music was put together, understanding its language, it was like discovering fire on a cold dark night.

  “The steps are simple,” Victor assures me, his body swaying with the four-count beat. “It is very much like walking, but if you will allow me to take the lead, I think you’ll find yourself enjoying it so much more.” With the next beat, he steps through me, our bodies colliding in an odd way that’s perfectly formal yet invasive.

  “Have you discovered your powers yet, Ms. Devinee?” Victor asks casually, taking us into a turn that only an experienced dancer could pull off with a novice, the room spinning around us in streaks of candlelight.

  “To tell you the truth, Your Excellence, I don’t think I have any power at all. What of you? Is there something special about your skills? Can you turn into a bat, perhaps?”

  “Human fables, my dear. It is the fae who shift into furry little creatures, not us.” Victor spins us again, this time twirling so quickly that I get dizzy well before we stop, the count lifting me off my feet to keep me from falling over them. As if dancing with a child. Or a doll.

  Setting me back down, Victor captures my gaze, his dark eyes widening. “Tell me something, Samantha.” His words slither through me like warm honey. Even without knowing the phrase’s ending, my body already wants to do anything Victor is about to ask, no matter how much my brain rebels against it.

  His smile widens. “Are you—”

  “May I cut in?” Cassis injects, his easygoing nonchalance at utter odds with the count’s formality. Without waiting for an answer, the younger vampire deftly slips an arm around my waist just as the music starts again. “I wouldn’t usually interrupt you, Victor, but I have good money riding on whether Samantha will slap me in the face before the song’s end.”

  “I would not dream of disrupting a wager,” Victor says graciously, yielding my hand to Cassis. “Whom do you recommend I bet on?”

  “On me, of course.” Winking at the count, Cassis starts us back into the dance.

  “Was that a smart thing to do?” I ask once I’m able to recapture my breath, the phantom fear of what Victor might have asked of me still turning my stomach. There has to be something that can be done to ward off the vamp’s compulsion. “Cut in with Victor, I mean.”

  “Absolutely not.” Cassis steps through me just as Victor had, his thigh brushing the inside of mine. Same move, but different. More teasing than intrusive, and my body knows it. Reminding myself to get back to Victor, I give Cassis a worried glance, but he only smirks. “One advantage of starting out on someone’s bad side, however, is that he can’t dislike me any more than he already does.”

  21

  Sam

  To my relief, Count Victor doesn’t so much as look in my direction for the rest of the night, though that could be because he literally has a swarm of vamps and demis following him around like obsessed bees. Not that he could easily get to me with Cassis somehow always there, spinning me into a dance or snatching drinks, or pulling me away from a dull conversation with a hand in the small of my back. At first, I shy away from him, the memory of his teeth in my neck, the pure hatred in his eyes as he overpowered me, too much. But finally, perhaps some animal part of me enjoying the endorphin rush of playing with a predator, I give in to the allure. The fun of the moment. Cassis is simply too handsome to resist forever.

  Cassis finally leaves my side only to get behind the piano, the notes singing from beneath his fingers quieting the room even more qu
ickly than Victor’s voice. As much as I shy away from attention— and the dark, lingering glances that come with it—the male thrives on it. I can see why he’d run a place like Dusk.

  The more I start to enjoy myself, the less Ellis seems to—or perhaps I’m just imagining it. Less implies he enjoyed the evening to begin with. From what I see of the male, he spends the night propping up a wall, glaring at anyone who accidentally strays too close. Asher and Reese, who I now realize are the only vampire and fae I see together on a regular basis, remain on quiet intense alert.

  Stepping out of the ballroom into the night air, I shiver as the wind ruffles my hair against my neck, the cold sending goose bumps down my bare back. Walking beside me, Cassis takes off his tuxedo jacket and puts it over my shoulders without a word, then sticks his hands into his pockets and gazes up at the stars. Though it carries no body heat, the jacket smells of his delicious spicy cologne, and I have to stop myself from inhaling audibly. The sky is clear and rich, just like the day I first met Ellis. The day everything in my life changed.

  “Why did you do all that?” I ask Cassis, who’s keeping step with me as I head back to the barracks. Walking me home? Not something I’d have dared allow in my previous world, but now the thought makes me giddy, my sex clenching hungrily at possibilities my mind is afraid to consider.

  Cassis’s attention stays on the stars, his cool presence brushing my skin without touching it. “Do what?”