by Coralee June
“And it looked fabulous,” she replied with a smile.
I rolled my eyes, but a small smile graced my lips too. “I looked ridiculous,” I replied.
We laughed for a bit, then settled in awkward silence, like we weren’t sure what to do with this newfound truce. Cheryl finally spoke, though. She never was good with silence. “The thing is, I don’t think my parents are going to come for me, Motley. Hell, they couldn’t even be bothered to attend my graduation.” Cheryl looked off in the distance, and surprisingly, I felt bad for her. I hadn’t realized that her parents didn’t show up. In fact, for all her talk of her parents, I hadn’t seen them once during our five years at Thibault. “We need each other if we’re going to survive this place. I mean, this is worse than Jeremy Lovit’s bar mitzvah. And my dress ripped, Motley.”
I shook my head with a quirk of my lips. Cheryl might be annoying as hell, but she had a point. If I wanted to get out of here, I’d have to build alliances. Besides, she’d already befriended some of the guards. This truce would be good.
“Stiles has been training with me. I made his ears bleed,” she said with a hint of pride.
At the mention of my half-brother, a sour taste filled my mouth, and I completely lost my appetite. Although, hearing that he was stuck with Cheryl’s deadly screams made me feel a little bit better.
“Where is Stiles, anyway?” I asked. “I haven’t seen him since we got here.”
A dark look crossed Cheryl’s face, and she crossed her arms over her chest. I knew that look. She gave it to Mary Catherine our second year at Thibault when she tried to date Brandon Cooper, a senior vamp with more money than he knew what to do with. Cheryl had been pissed since she’d claimed him for herself.
“Why do you want to know?” she asked with irritation. “We’ve been getting very close lately. He’s been totally kind, bringing me clothes and helping me understand my powers. I really hope you don’t have a crush on him, Motley, because it’s obvious he likes me.”
I wasn’t completely sure anything about Stiles was obvious—especially when it came to caring about someone other than himself. But I wouldn’t be the one to burst her bubble.
“I promise you, Cheryl, I’m far from interested,” I replied with a frown.
She didn’t look convinced. “We’ve bonded, Motley. I don’t think he really supports his father in all of this. He doesn’t like how Spector is treating all of us, you know. I think his dad is pressuring him somehow.”
This bit of information was intriguing. I briefly mulled over the moments leading up to the ritual. Stiles didn’t want either of us to attend the banquet. He was uncharacteristically kind to me that night—or at least his version of kind..
I wasn’t completely sold on the idea that Stiles was innocent in all of this, but I wanted to learn more. I decided right then it was time to let Cheryl in on the Trant’s dirtiest secret.
“Cheryl, can I tell you something in confidence?” I asked, and her eyes lit up with glee.
“Ooh, a secret? I love secrets. When Marlene Vatterby told me she got pregnant with a shifter hybrid while engaged to her vamp fiancé, I didn’t tell a single soul,” she replied excitedly while practically jumping in her seat.
I scrubbed my hand down my face. “No, this is different. You really can’t tell anyone, Cheryl. Okay? I’m serious.”
She nodded, her grin growing broader. I was probably going to regret this, but we both leaned in closer over the table so I could whisper.
“Stiles is my half-brother. His father slept around on his wife and had me. They gave me up a few days after I was born,” I rushed out, then watched in apprehension as Cheryl’s green eyes widened in part shock, part horror.
“You have a crush on your half-brother?” she hissed. “That’s fucked up, Motley!” She gagged a bit and shook her head in disgust.
Gods give me patience. This woman was going to be the death of me.
“I do not have a crush on my brother, you psycho!” I said a little too loudly. The tables around us turned to stare, and my spider shot a web out, warning them to mind their own damn business.
“Look,” I began while Cheryl processed my words. “Mr. Trant is my father. I want to know what he’s up to and figure out Stiles’s role in all of this. We can work together, okay? Figure out what he has over Stiles. If my brother is being forced to help Spector, I want to know. And if he’s not?” I paused for dramatic effect, giving Cheryl a sympathetic frown in the process. “It’s probably better we both know. You think you can do that?”
Cheryl stared back at me, eyeing me up and down with newfound understanding. I didn’t like the pity in her stare.
“So you’ve been a Trant all this time?” she asked. “I mean, you’re a scholarship student. You were a social pariah; why didn’t you say anything?”
Thoughts of Aunt Marie coursed through me, and tears filled my eyes. Maybe if people knew, I would have had more opportunities in life. But then again, we depended on the Trant’s monthly allowance to keep us going. My aunt couldn’t work, and neither could I until I graduated, so we needed that income. Besides, I didn’t want to gain anything off the back of my absentee father’s name. He would’ve denied the claim anyway, and then I would’ve been viewed as a liar as well as a pariah.
“It was a stipulation of my monthly living stipend that they sent to my aunt. She can’t work… So anyway, I really didn’t have a choice,” I said in a low voice, feeling dejected.
Cheryl puffed out her chest before reaching across the table to squeeze my hand, mimicking my earlier gesture. “I’ll see what I can find out, okay? We’re going to get out of this,” she promised.
I was shocked by the vehemence in her voice and the determination in her eyes. Cheryl didn’t make fun of me for being an unwanted bastard, nor did she judge me for keeping this secret for money. She accepted me fully and offered her help. Maybe I’d misjudged her all these years.
Who was this girl?
“Besides, I once got Jolene Mathington to admit she was stealing history tests from Professor Lox. I even convinced her to share them with me in exchange for backstage passes to an Alpha Pack concert. That chick is a frigid bitch, and she sang like a canary! I think I can handle the Trants.”
Ah, there she was.
Chapter 12
“Your feeding will be different today, Motley,” Lowell, the observing scientist, said while checking his tablet.
I tried to keep my roaring famishment under control as I followed behind him, but after two more days had passed, Spector noticed that it was time to feed again.
I was dreading it. I didn’t want to be forced to feed on humans that I would inevitably kill. I didn’t want to fuck a stranger and watch the light fade from his eyes.
But my spider was hungry. She needed to feed, and that drive dragged my feet down the hallway, keeping my eyes trained on the floor and my teeth clenched in apprehension.
When we got to my usual room where they brought me humans to drain, I was surprised to find that the room was filled with people. Not just the scientists who sat behind the observation glass, or the guards by the door, but the other hybrids too.
What the fuck?
My eyes scanned the crowded room, and I froze when I saw Tomb standing off to the side. He looked okay on the surface, brimming with life and light. But there was a sense of pain in his expression that made my heart clench.
When our eyes met, his chest puffed out, and he took a step toward me, only to be stopped when the guard behind him pulled him back. My eyes watered. I wanted to run to him and burrow my head in his neck. That invisible tether between us strengthened tenfold, and I had to lock down my demon to keep her from getting us killed by fighting our way over to him.
Beside him, Crow was staring at me with a look of pity. He was breathing heavily, as if in anger, and watched me with a hard stare while one of his crows was perched on his shoulder, pecking and cawing in distress.
“Differently?” I asked while
turning my attention to Lowell.
Were they going to make me feed in front of everyone?
The thought made my anxiety spike.
“When you fed from participant three-four-two, you made him immortal. We’ve tested extensively and concluded that he cannot die thus far, through every means we’ve tested. He continuously regenerates.”
I already knew this because of Crow, but hearing it still shocked me. As a supe, we lived long lives, perpetually young and strong, but we could still get hurt. We could still die if our attacker was dedicated enough.
I clasped my chest, staring at Tomb with apology in my expression. I hated the idea of him suffering to test more of Spector’s theories, all because of me and what I’d done to him. This beautiful, strong man had wanted to be done with life, and instead, I’d made him unable to die.
“So? What does that have to do with my feeding today?” I snapped, though I had a sinking suspicion I already knew.
“We are going to prove that this deathless phenomenon you’ve infused into the gargoyle can occur in other hybrids when you feed off them.”
My stomach dropped.
Lowell motioned behind him to the gathered hybrids. “Byron Wills has volunteered to go first. He mentioned that you were partners in the past. Perhaps having an emotional connection will help with the indestructible connection.”
Byron stepped forward, drawing my eye to him. He wore a smug grin and had his arms crossed over his chest. My fists curled at my sides. I had an emotional connection, alright. I wanted to murder him in his sleep.
“I don’t think it works that way,” I argued as Byron was led forward and hooked up with some various wires at his neck, heart, and temple.
“We’re going to test it regardless, Motley,” Lowell replied, like my inhibitions were irrelevant.
I didn’t want to sleep with Byron, especially since he was so cruel to me, and I definitely didn’t want to do this in front of all my peers. But I was hungry. I could feel my spider within me unfurl with an intense desire to feed.
“His dick isn’t going anywhere near me,” I protested.
“Oh come on, Motley, you weren’t saying that last time,” Byron joked, making all of his friends laugh.
I could feel my spider hissing, demanding retribution. Protective energy was like a vice wrapped around my neck. She wanted to give this guy what he deserved. She wanted to end his life and feed.
“I’m not fucking him,” I croaked once more to Lowell, who was writing on his notepad, nodding his head but not really listening to me.
“So long as you’re feeding off his essence, the means don’t matter,” he said distractedly.
The means don’t matter. This motherfucker.
I looked around warily. “I don’t want to do this with an audience.”
“You don’t have a choice.”
I bristled. I never had a fucking choice when it came to Spector. It was one thing to feed with an audience of Spector scientists and guards. That felt clinical and controlled, but at least they were strangers. Doing this in front of Tomb and Crow...it felt like a betrayal somehow, and both shame and anxiousness filled me.
“I can’t do this,” I argued desperately. “Please don’t make me do this.” Begging anyone from Spector left a bitter taste in my mouth, but I’d rather lose my pride than be touched by Byron in front of the guys and the others.
“The other hybrids are here for you to feed on as well, if all goes well with Byron.”
Realization clicked into place, and my mouth dropped open. “You want to see if I can make all the hybrids resurrected and indestructible?”
He didn’t answer, but I could see the truth in his pursed lips. That was exactly what they wanted. Nausea somersaulted through my gut. I shook my head, backing up a step, only to collide with a guard right behind me. The man’s hand came down hard on my shoulder, holding me in place. My fingers twitched to send webs flying. I could have him hanging by his neck in a second, but I held back.
“You can’t make me fuck and feed off of everyone!” I yelled to the scientist, ignoring the guard’s tightening grip.
The man finally looked up from his tablet and gave me a patronizing smile. “On the contrary, Miss Coven. We can do whatever we want. You belong to us. The moment you signed your name to Spector, you lost your rights of choice. We made you, and we’ll use you as we see fit,” he said, his tone emotionless. “Now approach the subject and begin your feeding process.”
“Or what?” I challenged. “You’ll stick me back in the tank? I think I’d rather go there.”
He laughed at me. “No, of course not.” Turning to look at one of the guards across the room, he said, “Let’s give her an example of what will happen should she refuse to follow instructions.”
Lowell produced a gold token from his pocket and tossed it in the air. I watched as the light shimmered off of it, and my spider recoiled within me. “What is that?” I asked, sensing a change in the demeanor of the room. Behind Lowell, a few of the demon hybrids flinched in fear.
“This is an ancient relic,” he said casually before rubbing his thumb along it. “It was created centuries ago, intended to ward off demons. The wealthy would purchase them from saints and keep them in their pockets. We learned how to produce more of them.”
Lowell started making his way toward a smaller girl I recognized from school. She was a necromancer paragon, top of her class. She seemed to cower under his gaze, her tiny frame shaking with fear. What the fuck was he doing?
“It’s lost some of its power over the years, but it still gets the job done. Spector is working to mass produce it now. I particularly like the ones we’ve powdered down and installed into firearms.”
As he spoke, two guards flanked the necromancer and held her shoulders. I wanted her to fight back. To use her demon to get them away, but she was terrified. In the next breath, Lowell slammed the gold coin against her eye.
She screamed.
It was a blistering sort of sound, reverberating around the training room as the smell of burning flesh invaded my nose. She writhed and scrambled at his hand, trying to get him away, blood coating her face and Lowell’s fingers. But he continued to jam the small, seemingly harmless coin against her eye. It seared past her eyelid and burrowed into her socket, melting her gaze with just a simple touch and leaving nothing but an empty hole in its place.
She fought against them, shaking her body and kicking her legs, but the guards held her down. You could see the way their meaty fingers dug into her pale skin.
Nobody moved. The rest of the guards held their guns up in an obvious threat, successfully subduing the rest of the hybrids whose terrorized faces watched.
I cried for her, begging them to stop, but my words fell on deaf ears. Spector wanted to make an example of my insubordination, and they were doing it happily.
“Please stop!” I screamed.
It wasn’t until the girl fell to her knees and blacked out that Lowell stopped pressing. The entire room went deadly silent, and my eyes flickered to Tomb, who was rippling with change.
With a roll of his eyes, Lowell bent over and fished the coin out of her eye, then used the hem of her hospital gown to clean the blood off of it.
“As you can see, it’s quite effective. Just a graze of it against a demon’s skin causes intense burning and pain,” he said, making my horror stricken face turn toward him as he slipped the coin into his pocket. “So, as I was saying, you will follow instructions, or more of your peers will suffer for your insubordination. Understood?”
I saw black. Not red. But pure, endlessly wicked black. My fangs punched all the way out, and my nails elongated. My spider was there, sharing my consciousness as we stared back at him.
We were going to kill him. I couldn’t say for sure when or how, but that was a promise seared into my own being, just as much as that coin had been seared into the girl.
He smiled at me, like seeing the death threat flashing in my eyes got him off. H
e turned to the other scientists watching behind the glass. “Subject six-two-seven, the black widow hybrid, will now feed from subject six-one-eight,” he droned on in his analytical tone.
My blue eyes flicked over to Tomb and Crow. They stood next to each other, staring back at me with tense bodies and furious eyes. But I knew that fury wasn’t at me. It was for me.
I meant what I said. I wasn’t going to fuck Byron. I knew that my demon’s magic required my body to be penetrated in order for her to latch onto his essence, but I was going to control this, and I sure as shit wasn’t letting his dick anywhere near me.
I moved forward, and then I stood in front of Byron while the rest of the hybrids stayed on the other side of the room with the guards, watching warily.
Byron gave me a shit-eating smirk. “Remember when you turned me down that one time, when I wanted to fuck you in the hall? I guess we’re going to get an audience anyway,” he said, his tone full of amusement. “Get on your knees and suck my cock, and then if you do a good enough job, I’ll stick my dick in you.”
Faster than he could fathom, webs shot from my right hand and planted against his mouth, wrapping around his head until he was totally gagged.
“That’s better,” my husky voice said, my spider and I feeling utterly smug.
His hands came up, trying to rip the webs away from his mouth, but my smile widened when they were too strong for him. He let out a muffled string of curses at the guards, but everyone ignored him. Lowell sighed behind me. “What?” I asked innocently. “No one said I had to let him talk. Just that I had to feed.”
“Continue on, Miss Coven,” he said in a warning tone.
I turned back to Byron and shoved my fingers through his hair, wrenching his head back at an uncomfortable angle. “The only thing I’ll be sucking is your blood, and your dick stays in your pants, or my webs will wrap around it so tightly it’ll fall off from blood loss. Understand?”
His face went utterly pale, and he swallowed hard. He must’ve seen the truth in my eyes, because he nodded slowly.