No Stakes Allowed

by Laura Greenwood

  I narrow my eyes, trying to gauge what he's thinking, but he's turned back to his tablet.

  A girl drops down into the seat next to me. "This one isn't taken, is it?" she asks.

  "Even if it was, you've not left me much room to say no," I point out.

  Bryce snorts, but says nothing. It turns out. He's not much use as a bodyguard then. At least I'm finding that out now and not in a life-threatening situation.

  She chuckles. "True. But if I didn't, you could say no even though we're both aware no one would be sitting there."

  "Perhaps there's a good reason for that," I mutter.

  "Oh, no doubt there is. Probably because you're a human and you don't want anyone to get close enough to rip your throat out."

  I shrug. "That doesn't worry me." I scroll down the book on my tablet, trying to give her the impression I'm ignoring her, while I watch her as closely as possible.

  "Then you're either reckless, or a fool," the girl says.

  "Aren't they the same thing?" I scribble down a fake note, hoping it'll get her to leave me alone.

  A smirk lifts the corner of her lips. "But which are you?"

  I lean in, and put on the sweetest smile I can manage. "Neither," I whisper.

  Bryce is watching me, even though he's pretending not to. Hopefully, I'm better than that when I'm trying to look busy, because he's fooling no one.

  "That's not possible."

  I sit back in my chair and cross my arms. "It is."

  "Why are you even here?" she asks.

  "The same reason you are, I assume. To get a qualification in useless."

  Bryce cracks a smile at my use of his own words. I squash down the triumph inside me.

  The girl chuckles and holds out her hand. "I'm Emma."

  "Lily." Wait, should I be using my real name? Perhaps an alias would have been better. Oh well, it's too late for that now.

  "And your boyfriend?" she asks.

  "I'm not her boyfriend," Bryce grumbles.

  "He's right, but you can ignore him, he's grumpy all the time."

  "Ah, my ex-fiance is like that," she says, trying to make a joke out of it, despite the pain in her eyes.

  I want to ask her more about it, but that may imply I care, and I don't want to give her the impression.

  "You know, I think we're going to be good friends," Emma observes.

  I raise an eyebrow, but don't correct her. She can go on believing that if she wants. I'm not here to make friends. Especially not with girls who look as perfect as Emma does. Even if it takes revealing who I am, I'll put her off. She won't want anything to do with me by the end of the term.

  Chapter Seven

  I stare up at the ceiling, trying to make sense of the events today. Why would that Emma girl want to be friends with me? Either she knows who I am and is using it to get to me, or she wants to have me as a snack.

  I sigh loudly, and sit up. Despite only being here a few days, I have a mountain of work to do in order to keep up with the workload. I'm not sure what I thought I'd have to do when I asked to come here, but this isn't it. Perhaps I thought there'd be more parties and more fun. I didn't think about the fact I wouldn't be invited to those kinds of things.

  I take a deep breath and get up, grabbing my bag from the floor and swinging it over my shoulder. Perhaps I should talk to Bryce about putting a desk in the room as well as the bed and wardrobe. That way, I don't have to sit in the same room as him while I do my work.

  Huh. Why isn't that the case anyway? Are they worried I'll make up some dastardly plot while I'm trying to do my academy work? Clearly, they didn't do their research on me. I've never been the one who made the plans. I'm the follow orders to keep myself alive kind of person. Now as well as then. Now, keeping myself in line with the vampires is the key to the blood continuing to run through my veins. If they think I'm going to mess it up by trying to kill one of them.

  The moment I open the door and am immediately hit by the scent of sizzling onions.

  Wait...is Bryce cooking? I didn't know he did that.

  "Ah, you're here," he grumbles, having seen me coming out of the room.

  "Sorry, I didn't realise you were out here." That's the truth at least. "I wanted to do some work."

  "Sure. Table's all yours." He gestures to the cosy looking dining room table.

  "Thanks." I bite my lip, trying to make sense of what's happening. Why isn't he more annoyed? I'm in his space, filling it with my human-ness.

  Oh, wait. That's not his problem with me. He doesn't like my ex-vocation.

  I ignore the direction of my thoughts and set my stuff down on the table. I keep one eye on Bryce as I pull out my books and tablet. He's got to be up to something, hasn't he? There's no way he can go from hatred to seeming domestic bliss in a moment.

  "Do you want some tea?" he asks.

  I jump, not expecting him to talk to me.

  "Erm, yes please," I splutter, the question has taken me off guard.

  "How do you take it?"

  "Just a bit of milk."

  "Coming up," he half-sings.

  Has he forgotten who I am? Or that he hates me?

  "Have you drunk some spiked blood?" I blurt.

  "What makes you say that?" he asks, tossing something into the pan with a soft sizzle.

  "You seem almost happy. The only thing I can come up with is that you've gotten laid, or drunk some dodgy blood. The former seems less likely," I reason.

  He chuckles. "That's where you'd be wrong." He turns back to making tea.

  "Then I can only presume you've had some kind of personality transplant." I click on my tablet, pulling up the app that has all my assignments on it.

  "I'm afraid to break it to you, but that's not the case." He sets down a mug in front of me.

  I eye it suspiciously. "Thank you," I say slowly, trying to figure out what's going on.

  "Poison isn't the best way I have to get rid of you," he points out.

  "Why doesn't that fill me with confidence," I mutter.

  He sighs loudly and drops himself down into the seat opposite. "Let's just say I've had a think about what you said the other day."

  "You mean where I told you not to act like you hate me in public?" I lean back in my chair and raise an eyebrow, wondering where he's going with this.

  "Exactly. And you're right. I need to try harder."

  "Okay..." What's gotten into him?

  "Don't get me wrong. I still don't like you."

  "I don't expect you to." I cross my arms. "But that doesn't explain why you're being nice to me here." I pick up the mug of tea and blow across the top. I took a sip and burned my tongue in the process.

  Bryce chuckles. "It looks like it won't be me that kills you, but your own stupidity."

  I chuff. "That's what you think."

  "Well, you haven't tried to kill me since we got here."

  "Has it crossed your mind that I don't want to kill people?" I ask.

  "You threatened me the moment we met."

  "Because you were trying to insinuate, I wasn't capable of it," I say.

  "And that's a problem because..."

  I laugh darkly. "Have you seen me? Small, slim, blonde. My entire life has been people not taking me seriously unless I have a knife at their throat."

  "Or a stake in their chest," he suggests.

  "Stakes aren't as useful as you think they are," I point out. "There are dozens of weapons I prefer."

  Bryce shakes his head. "Not reassuring in the slightest."

  "Please," I dismiss. "It's not like you aren't checking my room while I shower to check I'm not stashing weapons there. And like I said, I'm not trying to kill anyone. I don't want to kill anyone. And I'm not going to."

  "If you say so." He scrapes his chair back and returns to his position by the stove. I want to ask what he's making, but there are more important things on my mind.

  "You still haven't answered my question," I point out.

  "Which one?" He empties
a can of tomatoes into the pan. "Do you want some of this?"

  "Dinner?" I double-check.

  "Yes, dinner."

  "Yes, please," I say cautiously, still unsure about what's going on here. "But I meant the question about why you're being nice to me here. There's no one else around."

  He chuckles. "I figured here was the best place to practice."

  "You're doing pretty decent," I admit. "Which is what's confusing me."

  He sighs. "You're a hunter."

  "Correction, I was a hunter." I turn the page of one of my books a little too vigorously. The paper slice my finger and I yelp.

  I pull my finger back and spot the blood welling up on it. Oops. I stick my finger in my mouth and suck on the wound. It stings at first, but then subsides a little.

  I look up to find Bryce staring at me, his eyes wide and focused on me. He licks his lips.

  Oh. Right. Blood.

  I take my finger out of my mouth and hold it out to him. "Do you need some?" I ask, completely earnest. The last thing I need is a hungry vampire around and craving my blood.

  "Are you serious?" he asks.

  "Of course." I cock my head to the side.

  "But, shouldn't you want to avoid offering me blood?"

  I shrug. "You're hardly going to kill me."

  "If I did, I'd lose my own."

  "So, there's no problem with me offering you a bit of blood. Even if we hate each other."

  His face changes in front of me, relaxing and taking on his normal expression. It's a relief, even if I don't want to admit it.

  "I'll pass on. But I appreciate the offer." He turns back to the pan and stirs it. He really is making me dinner.

  He reaches out to the shelf to the left of the cooker, and pulls down a first aid kit. He comes over to me and pulls out a plaster. He reaches out for my finger and wraps it around, almost tender.

  "Thank you," I whisper.

  "You're welcome," he responds, his voice gruff and rumbly in a way that makes it seem like he may not hate me as much as he says he does. Now I have to work out how to deal with that.

  This night is going from weird to stranger, and I'm not sure how to deal with it.

  Chapter Eight

  "Do you have to look like you're going to rip someone's head off?" Bryce demands.

  I sigh loudly. The Bryce of a few days ago is completely gone. This man won't be making me dinner any time soon. More's the pity. The pasta he made was delicious.

  "Do you have to act like you have a stick up your ass the whole time?" I mutter.

  I don't have to turn around to know he's glaring at me. I can feel his gaze boring into my back.

  It doesn't matter. However he feels about me, I'm not going to worry about it. So long as he keeps to what he's supposed to do, it won't be a problem. And if he doesn't do his job, then it won't be my problem. Despite what he seems to think, I'm as deadly with my hands as with a weapon. Defending myself won't be a problem. But I don't think he'll have such an easy time of it when Ashryn finds out what happened. Having her on my side is going to help.

  Though that may be exaggerating it a bit, I'm not sure she's fully forgiven me for what my hunting partner did to her. Not that I blame her. She wears the scars proudly, but there's no escaping them.

  I push through the people around the classroom door and make my way into the room.

  "What are you doing here, blood bag?" a boy sneers.

  I spin around so I can face him, cataloguing at least three different things I can make a stake out of as I do. No. I'm not supposed to be doing anything like that.

  "I'm here to learn. Same as you," I say, flashing him an easy smile.

  "And yet, I'm meant to be here, and you're not," he retorts.

  A girl comes to stand next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder in a possessive move. Does she think I'm going to try stealing this idiot? One look is all I need to know he's not my type, even if he wasn't being rude.

  I cross my arms over my chest and stare him down. "I have every right to be here."

  "You're human," he spits.

  "And you're a regular detective. Congratulations," I mutter.

  "How dare you?" His face burns red. Interesting. I didn't know vampires can show embarrassment the same way humans can. It's useful information to have.

  "I'm not sure what I'm daring to do," I say evenly. "If I'm not mistaken, you engaged me in conversation."

  Oh, the poor boy. It's almost possible to see the thoughts whizzing around his head. He's not the sharpest fang in the jaw.

  "You're here," he splutters.

  I narrow my eyes at him. "Are you serious? You're annoyed at me because I'm in the room?"

  "No, not the room," the girl next to him corrects me, sounding as bratty as she looks. "The academy."

  A laugh escapes me before I can stop it. "I don't have time for this." I turn away from him and go to take my seat.

  His hand clamps down on my arm, a firm grip I've felt so many times in my life from people who think because I'm slight, I'm not a threat.

  "Let me go," I warn, my voice barely more than a growl.

  He doesn't remove his hand.

  Where is Bryce? Isn't he supposed to be around to stop this kind of thing? Not that I expect him to always step in for me. I know how this really works. Someone attacks me, I don't retaliate, he doesn't step in fast enough, and I end up hurt.

  Well, I'm not going to let that happen.

  "Let go of me, now," I threaten. "Or you will regret it."

  "What's a human like you going to do about it?" the boy demands.

  I count to three, hoping he'll let go and I won't be forced to do anything drastic. When he still doesn't let go, I try to pull away, knowing all it will do is make him tighten his grasp.

  Once he's done that, I move quickly, and flip him over my head in one practised move. He slams down into the desk at the same time his hand unclamps from my arm. Every time I've used that move, it's worked mostly because the other person underestimates me.

  "I told you to let me go," I hiss.

  "Lillian Daniels?" the teacher shouts over the din of the other students chattering about what I've done.

  "Yes?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.

  "What is going on?" she demands.

  I glance around, my gaze locking on Bryce standing in the door looking helpless.

  "I was defending myself," I answer honestly. "I asked him to let me go, and he wouldn't."

  She narrows her eyes at me, then flicks them over to Bryce. Ah, I'm guessing she knows the situation between us then. That's almost reassuring.

  "The rest of you, get to your seats and get ready to begin," she barks. "The two of you, outside, now."

  "Miss, what are we doing about Carlton?" the girl from before asks.

  The teacher gives the groaning vampire a once over. "He's fine. I want him sat behind his desk by the time I come back in the room." She doesn't wait for the girl to respond and marches outside.

  I follow behind, not seeing what else I can do, given the circumstances.

  "What was that?" she demands the moment we're out of the room.

  I glance at Bryce, hoping he'll be able to help. I know it's probably wishful thinking after the way he stood aside in there, but a girl can dream.

  To my surprise, he coughs and pulls her attention to him. "I was stopped from going into the room after Lily by Carlton's friends. I suspect they were trying to provoke a reaction from her."

  I shuffle from side to side and stare at the floor. And I gave them exactly what they want. Great.

  "And what happened in there?" the teacher asks me.

  I need to learn her name. I push that thought aside. Now isn't the time to seem rude.

  "He started taunting me. Then he grabbed hold of me..." I push the sleeve of my cardigan up so she can see the marks left there. I may be able to overwhelm a vampire, but they still leave marks. "I asked him to let go. He refused, and then my instincts kicked in." It'
s honest without going into how I know the best way to loosen the grip of someone that much stronger than me.

  "I must admit, I'm impressed," she admits. "When the Dean told us you were coming, I had my doubts."

  I blink, still processing what she's saying. She knows who I am. All the teachers must.

  "I'm sorry," I say through half-gritted teeth. I don't want to apologise, nor do I think I should have to. Carlton invaded my personal space and did what he could to belittle me. He's the one who should be in trouble for it, not me.

  "I'm sure you're aware that I'll have to inform the Dean about this situation," she says.

  I nod. And I'm sure it'll be reported back to Ashryn and her den of vampires in turn too.

  "But so long as it doesn't happen again, I'm sure nothing will come of it."

  "Thank you," I whisper.

  "Now, take a moment to compose yourself, and then present yourself for class, please." She turns and leaves the two of us standing outside the door.

  I spin to face Bryce the moment she's gone. "Where were you?" I hiss.

  A guilty expression crosses his face. "I should have tried harder to get past them."

  "Yes. You should."

  "I saw you slam him down though. Impressive." A smug smile replaces the guilt.

  "Thanks." I flush, enjoying the compliment more than I want to.

  "We should get inside," he murmurs, no doubt in an attempt to cover up the odd look in his eyes.

  "Yes. We should."

  "I'm sorry," he whispers.

  "Apology accepted," I answer instantly. And oddly enough, I mean it. Huh. I know vampires aren't as bad as the guild taught us they were, but I still didn't think I'd be coming around to them as quickly as this. Best not to think about it too much.

  Bryce pushes the door open for me, and I don't linger any longer. Besides, I can't wait to see Carlton's face when I step back into the room. I've gotten away without a punishment, but he's just been outwitted by a human in front of his friends. That's got to sting.

  Chapter Nine

  The images flashing through my mind make too much sense to be a dream. Why is this happening? I've never had a vision while sleeping before. Something must have changed when I came to Grimalkin. Perhaps this wasn't the best idea I've ever had.