Dark Days: Semester 1

by Liz Meldon

  I bit my cheeks, swallowing the snort-growl that threatened to slip out. Get to know each and every one of us—take a bite out of each and every one of us, more like.

  And “travelling”. My eyes narrowed as he passed the microphone back to Principal Foster, who then headed toward my side of the stage. Travelling. Did he consider it inappropriate to include kidnapping and black-market shifter trading as some of his hobbies?

  Over the last thirty years or so, vampires had earned themselves a dangerous name in the still-super-secret shifter and supernatural community. An apex predator in a sea of fellow predators, they had taken it upon themselves to expose some of us to government departments, crime lords, weapons manufacturers, biological testing agencies—the list went on. Even as a pup, I’d heard rumors of what roving gangs of vampires did to shifters, to faeries, to witches. The rumor mill had been churning out horror stories for decades.

  Vampires were, without a doubt, the world’s most dangerous creature—the most viable threat, even to those of us who far surpassed human strength and abilities.

  No wonder my alarm bells had been screaming. My inner wolf had sensed Calder fucking Holloway long before I laid eyes on him.

  Another snarl crept up my sandpapery throat, but I disguised it as a muffled cough. What the hell was this vampire even doing here? Calder Holloway, with his stupid gorgeous accent and three-piece suit and beautiful smile and piercing eyes and—

  No. Focus. I blinked hard. My dad had once told me most vampires came in pretty packaging—and that I shouldn’t let it distract me. The attractive exterior was just another tool that made them efficient killers. Hunters. Trappers. Rogues. Alluring, sharp-toothed fucks who thought they had dominion over every creature that walked the earth.

  Positively bristling, my gaze slid back to him—and my heart skipped a beat when our eyes met. Time seemed to slow around us, the assembly, the drone of my coworkers, the faint buzz of the stage lights all fading to the background. My whole body tensed, and I death-gripped the rigid brim of my chair, nails threatening to chip the metal. Most of the time, I could look at someone and get a decent read on them. It worked best on humans, but I had grown more adept at reading shifters too; my mom insisted it was my alpha blood, whereas I’d always thought I had a knack for body language.

  Calder was unreadable.

  Until he smirked.

  And then the guy read loud and clear.

  Challenge issued. Game on, vampire.

  I glowered back. If this asshole thought he could infiltrate SIA, my home, and kidnap the wolf shifter PE teacher, then sell her to some deep underground government lab—well, he had another thing coming.

  Chin lifted, I refused to cower. I held his stare, made sure the vampire knew that I saw him. Beyond the handsome exterior, the sinful smirk, I saw the hunter, the predator, the killer. Hackles up, I only hoped he realized I wasn’t some mousey herbivore shifter, that in my eyes, he saw a predator too. Let him see the wolf, the warrior, the alpha’s daughter.

  Let him know—

  “Emma?” Phyllis nudged my arm, and I flinched, startling out of my thought spiral.

  “What?” The word echoed through the auditorium, the damn microphone close enough to my mouth to catch it as Phyllis stared at me expectantly. Titters erupted from the students, and, red-faced, frazzled, I grabbed the mic and stood. Light-headedness clung to me, this wolf, this warrior, this alpha’s daughter, a touch sweaty and disoriented beneath the glare of the stage lights—and the glare of the vampire. Clearing my throat, I forced a smile, knowing that it wouldn’t look the least bit authentic. “Uh, hi. My name is Emma Kingsley, and I teach ninth and tenth grade physical education and health. I also run the rescue dog program, so congratulations to all the seniors selected. Uhm.” Lips pressed together, I swallowed hard again, throat raw, mouth too dry. My stomach looped. “I enjoy hiking and swimming and camping, and, uhm, I’ve been here for, uhm, this is my… second year of teaching in Solskinn. I’m originally from Maine.”

  Holyfuckingshitgoddamnitughhhhh.

  I handed the microphone off to Robert in the painful silence that followed, then sank down onto my chair, mortified.

  Robert chuckled, his grin warm. “Well, see, we’re all still a little sleepy from the summer, eh?”

  More laughter from the kids. I shot him a look that said I was somehow in on the joke, my stomach in knots, all the while resisting the urge to slowly drag my jacket over my head.

  Across the stage, Calder Holloway’s stunning vampiric smile stretched so wide it threatened to crack his gaunt, porcelain cheeks. He flicked his eyebrows up when our gazes collided once more, and a growl rumbled deep within my chest.

  Right. I could ignore that horrific case of word vomit, pretend it had never happened, that I had been eloquent and succinct and hadn’t said a single uhm—but I couldn’t ignore him.

  Calder fucking Holloway.

  A vampire who, if I had my way, would be out of here by sunset.

  Humanity’s pop culture mythology of vampires was full of shit. Not only did Calder cast a reflection in every window he passed, he only winced slightly when he stepped into the late-afternoon sunshine after the assembly.

  Honestly, I’d been a bit disappointed when he didn’t burst into flame, screaming and howling for all of five seconds before crumbling to ash on the front steps of the building. Hollywood had gotten my hopes up for nothing.

  Still, the mythos about the bloodsucking creeps got at least one thing right: vampires required a wide berth. As I tracked him back to the main building, I noticed many of the students kept their distance, allowing him to pass unchecked.

  Mind you, after my embarrassing performance during introductions, no one bothered with me either, but the same couldn’t be said for the Howards. The couple were popular amongst all four years; their swarm of admirers in the foyer had given me the opportunity to slip away unnoticed, my sights set on the back of Calder Holloway’s stupid head.

  I’d hoped he might retreat to the staff lodgings, as there was an even slimmer chance of what was about to happen being seen by any students. However, as we skirted the outdoor atrium and headed for one of the side entrances to SIA’s V-shaped education wing, I decided this could work in my favor too. Sure, the support staff might be in their offices, janitorial making their rounds. But for the most part, the classrooms would be empty. We were only a half-hour out from dinner; the majority of the campus inhabitants would be meandering into the dining hall—an enormous room with vaulted ceilings, a trio of Victorian chandeliers, and four long tables for each grade, plus a smaller staff table at the helm.

  And our kitchen staff was phenomenal. I gained ten, maybe fifteen pounds my first year here because the food was just so delicious. I knew now to pace myself, how to properly feed this shifter body of mine, but the smells wafting out of the hall were a siren call difficult to resist.

  Well, not for the school’s newest faculty member, I bet. As Calder disappeared through the side door, I couldn’t help but wonder how he managed surrounded by so many racing pulses. Then again, that was probably the point; a place like SIA, in the middle of nowhere, teeming with humans, was a vampire’s all-you-can-eat buffet. I scowled as I paused at the same door, waited a few beats, and then slipped inside. His footsteps echoed on the stairwell to my right, and I stepped out of my heels, following on stockinged feet.

  While my heart threatened to beat out of my chest, I kept myself composed. Focused. A wolf on the prowl, her quarry in sight. Even my inner wolf had stilled, the pair of us thinking, breathing, in perfect unison as I climbed the spiral staircase up to the second floor, then waited at the door, peering through the double-pane glass window. As I’d suspected, Calder had been given his predecessor’s office: dead-center of the V, overlooking the roundabout in front of the building just beyond the main gates. Hotly contested real estate among the senior staffers, or so the rumors went.

  I didn’t care about any of the rooms in here; as far as I was c
oncerned, I had the best office on campus—because the entire gymnasium was basically my office, and when I had a free period, she was all mine.

  Well, mine and Walter’s, but he had a penchant for the weight room and the office he’d forced Foster to give him in here, next to the first-floor teachers’ lounge.

  Adrenaline coursed through my veins, my shifter side desperate to break free—to charge my enemy and pound him into the ground. While some of the mythos about shifters was also incredibly inaccurate, we were, in general, hot-tempered and impulsive, harkening back to our wildest selves.

  But hunting a vampire required patience. His senses would be exceptional, perhaps even surpassing mine. So, I waited. I breathed deep and even, settling my pounding heart, until he had unlocked his office door and stepped inside. With the hallway empty, the building asleep, I crept through the stairwell door, closing it gently behind me, and padded down the corridor. I set my heels next to his classroom some ten feet from his office, hoping I wouldn’t need them to, you know, gouge his eyes out—or something equally gruesome.

  While Calder had let the door swing shut behind him, it hadn’t clicked into place, caught on the stubborn latch bolt. Nibbling my lower lip, I risked a quick peek inside through the small oval window. Boxes, most unopened, stacked high on either side of the small square room, his desk in the middle, a chair tucked behind it. I frowned. Why wouldn’t he take advantage of that gorgeous bay window? Why face away from it?

  Probably so he could watch the door for intruders. Smart.

  For now, however, the vampire had his back to me, tweed blazer folded and set on his desk.

  Okay, Emma—what’s the plan here?

  Barge in demanding answers?

  I retreated when he started to look over his shoulder, pressing flat against the wall, breath even. No, I needed the element of surprise. I needed to get him out of here.

  Sneak in and somehow render him unconscious? Then, what, transport his body off campus? Stuff it in the luggage compartment on a bus to Oslo? I pursed my lips. Kind of a wild-card strategy, but there had to be something in there weighted enough to knock even a dead man out if my shifter strength wasn’t up to par.

  This is so stupid.

  I shook my head. No. This is proactive. Get him before he got me.

  Sure, let’s go with that. If my inner wolf was game, then so was I—and so far, she hadn’t made a single you moron huff that she liked to do whenever my head and my heart clashed.

  My fingers skimmed along the smooth dark wood of the doorway, its hue a perfect match to the floor, and the door bounced a little when I nudged at it. Another quick check through the window showed Calder with his back to me again, fiddling with something at his desk. Silently, I eased the door open further, praying all the hinges had been oiled recently, then tiptoed inside.

  I moved like a ghost, not a sound whispered with each step. Carefully, I let the door ease back into place, pausing when the vampire sighed heavily. Once I was in, I hesitated, estimating about five steps to reach him, six to be right on top of him. If I could slam his head hard enough against the desk, I could at least get him in a daze.

  Right. Plan in motion.

  My steps were slow, precise—soundless. I kept myself out of the bay window’s reflection, hiding behind Calder’s taller, far more muscular frame. At step four, I paused, the air still between us, and reached out for him. One more step and my hands would be at his shoulders, then I’d thrust down with all my might.

  Okay, here we go. On three. One—

  Calder whirled around on two, snapped up my outstretched arm at the elbow, and flung me onto his desk in the time it took me to blink. I yelped, my back and shoulders slamming hard against the tabletop—the completely empty tabletop; apparently he had been fiddling with nothing. My hands lashed out instinctively, teeth bared, but Calder was on top of me, pinning both arms, in about five seconds flat. With one muscular thigh thrust between both of mine, the vampire knelt over me, trapped me, caged me in.

  Kneed me squarely in the—

  My cheeks flamed as I struggled against him, and Calder cocked his head to the side, midnight-black locks tumbling over his eye, then grinned.

  “Down, girl.”

  A flash of rage darted through me at the insinuation, and I fought harder—but shoving and flailing and kicking and snapping my teeth at Calder was like doing all that to a hunk of granite. Some looming, smirking, immovable statue.

  What had I been thinking? Somewhere, a distant memory surfaced of my dad giving his inner circle a rundown on a local vampire nest between our territory and our neighbor’s. Seven-year-old me had perched at the top of the stairs, peering through the round wood bars, fascinated.

  “They’ll outmatch you in your human form, but you’ll have the upper hand if you shift. Don’t hesitate.”

  Here, pinned beneath some unyielding porcelain god, I hesitated. My shifted form wasn’t exactly subtle; double the size of larger wild wolves, I would dwarf Calder. Eclipse him. And, if someone did happen to stroll by at just the right time, I could potentially out myself and my kind.

  So, I snarled up at him but remained in human form—for now. The reminder, the knowledge that I could best him physically if I needed to, gave me confidence.

  “Get off me,” I growled, finally stilling beneath him, on the verge of panting—but I refused to give him any other “dog” metaphors to toy with. Calder snorted, those haunting blue eyes unreadable. They didn’t match the twisted smirk on his lips, but rather appraised me coldly, calculation simmering beneath the ice.

  “Oh, you just wanted to talk, right? How silly of me…”

  Much to my surprise, he retreated. Slowly, his movements graceful, lyrical, like a highly trained dancer, he eased off the desk and stepped away. Glowering, I sat up, my hair flyaway city and my outfit rumpled. When those bright blues flickered to my thighs, I yanked my dress down, heart thundering, and slid off his desk to square off with the dead man properly.

  Maybe attacking him from behind had been the dishonorable thing to do. Not that there was room for honor in survival, but as we stood facing each other, me about a head and a bit shorter, boiling with anger, while Calder stood tall, showing nothing, I felt we were on more even footing now.

  We held our respective ground for an eternity, sizing each other up, the air thick with our auras—mine white-hot, wild, and quivering, and Calder’s black and still, silent, overwhelming.

  I tensed when he started to move, ready to shoot off from my back foot, launch myself at him, only to straighten, confused, when he detoured around his desk, pulled out the academy-provided chair, and settled in. Long fingers threaded together, the cuffs of his light-grey dress shirt held together by twin links that appeared to be a coat of arms, maybe a family crest.

  Blinking the distraction away, I prowled closer and pressed my palms flat to the surface of his desk. A whiff of cologne emanated from his discarded blazer: heady, musky—the scent of a man, yet not the traditional shifter male. The scent implied refinery, a gentleman who could still roll up his sleeves and throw down when the situation called for it. Elegance. Luxury. Danger.

  Three adjectives suited to the vampire peering up at me, his obsidian locks swept out of his eyes yet threatening to fall again, in need of a firmer hand.

  I swallowed hard, forcing my gaze back to his face, and breathed shallowly for a few moments to adjust to his scent. Refusing to show he had any effect on me, I leaned forward, crossing the buffer between us.

  “What—the fuck—are you doing here?”

  Calder tsked up at me. “Manners, manners. Isn’t there a swear jar in the staffroom, or is that just some delicious rumor?”

  I bit the insides of my cheeks. There was, in fact, a swear jar in the teachers’ lounge. While we were all adults, we still had to put a krone in the jar if we cursed to deter the habit on school grounds. I’d lost about five hundred krone last year; apparently I lacked restraint.

  I said none of this to
Calder, and instead glared down at him, my question still standing. The vampire waited a moment, then huffed, that infuriating smirk falling away.

  “I’m here to teach. Same as you.”

  I scoffed. “Bullshit. I know how most vamps earn a living these days.”

  His jaw clenched, muscles flickering beneath the dark stubble, and to my surprise, the faintest pink flush illuminated his porcelain cheeks. I had struck a nerve. Good to know that was possible.

  “Well, I’m afraid I’m not most vamps,” he sneered as he settled back into his chair. “Are we done?”

  “No.” Not by a long shot. I moved in, my hips nudging the desk, practically bending over it if it meant invading his personal space. “What the fuck are you doing here? The academy is mine—”

  “Oh, what”—Calder rolled his eyes—“did you pee in all the corners and now it’s yours?”

  “Fuck you, dead man.”

  “Oh, I believe that’s four for the swear jar now.” The impish look returned, splashed across his face as he waited for me to take the bait. It didn’t take a genius to see he was goading me, hoping I’d snap, but I refused to get sucked into something so childish.

  This was very real for me—the threat of vampires on the shifter community had been painfully real for years. Two from a neighboring wolf pack had been taken after that conversation between my dad and his inner circle. The shock wave that rippled through our tight-knit community—I’d never forget it. They weren’t our packmates, but we understood the loss viscerally. The grief. The agony. Wolves lost their mates, their fated mates. Taken from them far too soon. This wasn’t a game to me, and I wouldn’t treat it as such, no matter what Calder said, no matter how he gazed up at me, mischief shimmering in his bright blues.