by Danae Ayusso
“Batter up, Bitch,” I taunted, tossing the book back on the pile.
Shep took my offered hand, and I pulled him to his feet.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
He nodded, turning and look me over for damage.
Tenderly he caressed my cheek. “I’m so sorry, Mikey. Lizzy should have never said that about your mom.”
I shrugged; I’ve called the crackwhore worse.
From the corner of my eye, I saw the movement.
Without giving it a second thought, I protectively pulled Shep back a fraction of a second before Draven’s fist connected.
Instead of Shep’s head, Draven’s fist grazed his chin and fully connected to my jaw on the right.
There was a collective gasp from everyone, and my head snapped to the side to absorb the blow.
Ow.
That hurt.
Never did I imagine the boyband reject having a right-hook like that, and as annoyed, as I should have been, I wasn’t.
I was pissed the punk ass waited to take a cheap shot instead of fighting Shep like a man…
Instead of fighting me like a man.
I was pissed that my first day of school was turning out to be much more eventful than it should be.
I was even pissed that Justice was M.I.A. when I would have liked her to take care of a few things and people for me.
But what I was most pissed about was the fact that I wasn’t pissed in the least that my self-therapy hit me.
Slowly I turned to face him and his eyes widened and mouth fell open with a popping sound.
He looks scared.
I moved my jaw, popping it back in place, then cracked my knuckles before rolling my neck, causing it to crack loudly.
Draven retreated from me. “Je suis vraiment désolée... Veuillez m'excuse,” he stammered; his eyes wide.
I followed the retreating man whore.
The others hurried away from us, the look of fear on each of their faces.
They are not a concern of mine.
My only concern is the annoying, six-foot three-inch waking nightmare that took my sanity from me for the summer, and that abandoned me when I needed him most, and that played me for a fool.
The only thing I gave a damn about was the asshole that tried to hit my friend that was consoling me, that was making sure I was okay…
Something that the annoying man whore didn’t give a damn about!
If it doesn’t have to do with his cock, he doesn’t care.
Draven doesn’t care about his family, that’s obvious. He doesn’t care about mine, that is more than obvious. But what was painfully, heartbreakingly, obvious was his lack of concern for me.
How I ever allowed myself to be played like that… To be played by a spoiled little brat that only takes what he wants and treats those around him as if they are beneath him is beyond me, and something I will look into so it never happens again.
Draven’s wide eyes narrowed and they turned solid black, the skin around them pulling taut causing wrinkles that formed a masking around his eyes.
A normal person would have screamed and called him a demon.
I knew he was without the parlor trick.
A sane person would have been praying and crossing their heart in hopes of divine intervention to save them.
No amount of praying would save either of us from what was about to happen.
My vision changed.
It sharpened, and when I focused on my target, everything else faded into the background.
Draven was backed up against the wall and I was in front of him.
A snarl tugged at his full top lip.
When he reached out, as if he was going to touch my face, I smacked his hand away and in a blur of movement that should have terrified me, my hand was around his throat and I was choking him.
To my surprise, instead of hitting me again, he caressed the side of my face he already assaulted, as if he was trying to soothe the pain away.
“Je suis vraiment désolée,” he whispered. “Veuillez m'excuse.”
His whispered out words were pleading and the expression on his face matched. The black his eyes had become rolled in on itself and white and black replaced it.
“Veuillez m'excuse,” he choked.
No.
I won’t forgive him.
He hurt me.
He played me.
Draven Van Zul made a fool of me…
He deserves to die.
“No,” I snarled and squeezed harder.
A strong arm wrapped around me from behind and my feet were no longer on the ground. “Mikhail, that is enough,” Price scolded in my ear. “Let go of him,” he warned.
Stubborn, I shook my head.
“Let go of him, Girls,” Price ordered, prying my fingers from around Draven’s neck.
Draven dropped to the floor, choking and coughing, struggling to breathe.
“Mikhail, Justice, breathe,” Price pleaded in my ear.
I gasped, not realizing I was holding my breath.
“I’m sorry,” I instantly started apologizing. “Please forgive me.”
Price carried me like that out into the hallway before he put me down then turned me around to face him. His clear brown eyes moved over my face many times, almost as if he were scrutinizing it, and his attention always returned to my eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“No, I’m sorry,” he said. “Ellie called and I got here as fast as I could. Are you okay?” he whispered.
I nodded and he lowered his hands when Dillon cleared her throat.
Dillon motioned for those not in the fight to head to the library for the rest of class.
“Soren is crossing the parking lot,” Dillon warned, “and the principal is on her way. I’m sorry. I did everything I could to prevent this.”
Price nodded that he heard her and forced a smile, but it quickly fell.
“Understood,” he said and waved me back inside. “Please keep your temper in check and stand back with the twins.”
Way to go! You pissed Daddy off. If he deports us because of this, you will never hear the end of it!
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, and he nodded once.
This is bad, and he’s really pissed.
Dillon looked at me. “Are you okay?”
I shook my head. “Justice is going to kill me if Price doesn’t forgive me for losing my temper.”
She sighed, shaking her head. “You didn’t do anything that he wouldn’t have done, or worse, Mikey. You really haven’t seen Price when his temper gets the best of him. It’s bad. What you did, that was nothing. Besides, you didn’t do anything wrong. They started it, as usual, and you were pulled into the middle of it. Just try to stay back and hide as much as possible because Soren is a real piece of work, as you know, and he’ll put the blame on you because you’re new.”
I nodded and sulked into the classroom behind her and went and stood back with Bleu and Kieran.
The invisible line drawn in the proverbial sand was painfully clear: those that run with the Van Zuls on one side and those with the Simoeaus on the other. Dillon stood with her brother, arms crossed over her large chest, glaring at the teens glaring at us. The twins were smiling, looking slightly demonic and up to no good; evil smirks pulling at the corners of their mouths, knuckles bloody from the beatings the sneaky little bastards got in when no one was looking.
“You just can’t control your clan, can you?” Soren complained from the doorway.
Price shrugged, not bothering to look at him. “I wasn’t here so I cannot confirm nor deny what happened. However, by the looks of it, your clan got their asses handed to them,” he said with a smile.
That I didn’t expect to hear from him, especially after how mad he was in the hallway.
Soren softly growled under his breath and slammed the door shut behind him. “Unlike yours, mine know the importance of maintaining appearances and how flying off the handle like mor
onic assholes causes suspicion! You need to get those bastards under control or I’ll do it for you,” he warned, looking our side of the line over, his attention remaining on me. “That’s where I’ve seen you before,” he sneered.
Price shook his head, stepping to the side to block Soren’s view of me. “You’ll watch what you say next,” he warned.
Soren snorted. “Or you’ll do what? Sic your clan of bastards and orphans on me? That’s worked so well again and again.” He looked around Price to me. “How it’s possible, I don’t know, unless it’s a trick. A means for you to finally boast of something that those of the superior bloodline have already done. ‘Tis truly pathetic. We have done what your bloodline will never do. Your family tree will be uprooted, regardless of how hard you try to prevent that from happening, and when it does, I will dance around the funeral pyre, tossing the branches on it to feed the flames. That is what you truly deserve. Your fate and that of your clan is solely on your shoulders.”
Crazy motherfucker, table for one!
I looked to those on the other side of the room and they were shaking their heads; apparently, Soren liked to hear himself talk because they didn’t appear to agree with the hate he was spewing.
Price chuckled. “Such odium and ideology has been the downfall of many, many small men,” he said.
I tried not to, but I giggled.
“Mind that bitch’s tongue or I’ll do it for you,” Soren warned.
To my surprise, Draven’s eyes were suddenly solid black.
Why do they do that? I should be freaking out, but I’ve seen shit like that before I think… Was chased through the streets of Philly by demons with solid eyes. I hoped they didn’t follow us to Montana, but Dandy is proof that the little bastards won’t leave us alone.
“He punched her,” Shep said, trying to get the attention off me, and in the worst way possible.
He truly is blond.
Price’s head snapped to the side to regard him.
“Draven punched Mikhail,” Shep said.
Shit.
In a blur of movement that I barely registered, Draven was slammed against the far wall with Price’s hand tightening around his throat, pulling him up off his feet.
“You really shouldn’t have done that,” Price informed him in a tone so level it was menacing.
“Let go of my son,” Soren demanded.
Yeah, I totally should have seen that one coming.
Soren started towards them, grabbing a chair in passing and the others scrambled away from them.
As much as I wish I could just let it play out, I can’t.
This is my fault.
Shep needs to learn to shut the fuck up.
And that’s my father and my man whore, no one else’s.
How crazy does that sound?
When Soren pulled the chair back to hit Price with it, I ripped it from his hands and sent it flying across the room in the opposite direction.
“Hey!” Soren complained, spinning around to face me. “You little bitch,” he snarled.
Suddenly my hand was around his throat, and I was slamming him against the wall, pulling him up off his feet. How I made it across the room that fast or without conscious effort I don’t know, and it should concern me, but it doesn’t. Now, the bastard that tried to hurt our daddy was my only concern.
I focused on him, and only him, his eyes burning into mine, skin taking on a slightly blue pallor the tighter I squeezed.
“No one touches my father,” I venomously informed him with a snarl.
Soren’s eyes widened before they narrowed, the whites being completely consumed in black. He grabbed my wrist and tried to pull it away from his throat, but I was an unmoving stone of murderous rage.
“Impossible,” he choked.
“Mikhail, stop!” Price shouted from next to me. “Let him go.”
That is what I should do, but I don’t want to.
I want to kill him.
Never have I wanted to kill someone more than I do Soren Van Zul now.
It is a longing, an unfamiliar deep-rooted feeling, that’s consuming me.
“No one touches what belongs to me,” I said in a cold, detached tone.
“Mikhail, release him,” Price whispered, caressing my head. “Please. You cannot do this.”
I shook my head, trying to get my head in order.
There are so many questions running through my mind, so many malicious and darkened emotions, things I’ve never felt before, that it terrifies me.
Why are his eyes black?
Why do I want to kill him so badly?
Why am I suddenly so damn strong and seemingly crazed with a thirst for blood... Actually, not blood, rather Soren’s head on an awl-pike, and a buttload of croissants.
Those sound so good right now.
“What’s wrong with me?” I asked, sending the barely conscious Van Zul flying across the room with the flick of my wrist. “Why are his eyes black? Why were Draven’s eyes black? How can you move like that?” I asked through clenched teeth, trying to regain my composure.
The genius side that needs answers is the quickest way, I learned, to calm my breathing and regulate my heartrate.
It was harder to lose my temper and grasp on reality if I had questions running through my head and biting at my tongue.
Slowly Price turned me to face him.
The look on his face disarmed me and the questions quickly eluded me.
Something is wrong with his face. Specifically around his solid black eyes where a masking of tiny wrinkles are pulling inward towards his orbital sockets, blemishing his handsome face, making him look evil and unholy, slightly dead even.
It’s the same type of masking that Draven and Soren had when I was choking them out, but they weren’t as pronounced as the one Price was wearing.
Unable to stop myself, I reached up and softly caressed the tips of my trembling fingers over the strange masking, over the taut wrinkled flesh, and Price closed his eyes, the corners of his lips turning down.
“Huh,” I said, and his eyes snapped open, the clear brown and white is back and the wrinkles are gone. “So I’m not nearly as crazy as I thought I was, huh?” I asked.
Price chuckled, shaking his head. “Not at all.”
Daddy has some major explaining to do.
“I agree. This is not what I was expecting. Sis, we have… Yeah, this is… Yeah,” I huffed, shaking my head, at a loss for words.
And they have the audacity to say you’re a genius.
“We are, but this is beyond genius,” I argued. “Now so much makes sense but none of it makes sense.”
Price looked at me curiously. “Girls?”
“We’re okay, Daddy.”
Really?
A smile filled Price’s face.
“What have you done?” Soren demanded.
“Fuck off or I’ll snap your neck,” I warned.
Justice, reel it in.
Soren hurried from the room.
“Punk ass little bitch.”
If you don’t stop it, especially when we need to find out what is going on now more than anything, I’ll put you in time out.
I’d like to see you try.
I have ways.
“I’m so sorry, Girls,” Price whispered, speaking to both of us since he knows we’re fighting. Tenderly he caressed my head. “I never wanted... I’m so sorry.”
I wrapped my hand around his and rested them against my cheek. “You never wanted me, or you never wanted me seeing this, or you never wanted me knowing?” I asked, trying for clarification.
Looking around the empty room, everything was in perfect order, as if no fight had happened and that the class was merely in the library doing research.
That isn’t normal.
“What in the hell are we or is wrong with us?” I asked.
“I never wanted this for you girls,” Price clarified. “This life, everything you two went through, my personal demons, the curse of my
legacy, it was never supposed to... I’m sorry. You weren’t supposed to be possible.”
What does that mean?
I don’t know.
“Dad, what are we?” I asked the obvious.
A smiled filled his face. “Can you say that again?” he asked, tears flooding his eyes.
Um...okay. Apparently, you broke him. Way to go!
“What are we, Dad?” I said louder, thinking he couldn’t hear me, and he laughed. “What?”
“I’m not deaf. I just like hearing you call me Dad.”
Daddy!
“Oh,” I said, blushing from embarrassment. “Justice has been calling you Daddy for a while now, and I’ve wanted to say it but I was scared. I didn’t want to freak you out by saying it, and then have you find out that I’m broken and have you regret it.”
He shook his head. “I don’t and will never regret you, either of you,” he promised.
“But I was fraternizing with the son of your arch-nemesis,” I reminded him.
That, in itself, is regret and deportation worthy.
Softly he chuckled. “Remind me to thank Dilly. Soren isn’t my archenemy; he’s just as a tiny prick I’ve had to deal with for longer than I care to admit. Tonight, I will tell you everything, I swear it.”
That’s better than the alternative of getting a demonic bombshell, if that’s what we are, dropped on me in a public place where the risk of exposure is great.
“We aren’t vampires or something sparkling like that, right?” I asked, making a face.
He laughed. “God no. They are vile creatures,” he said, shivering, making a face in return.
I cocked an eyebrow.
Is he saying vampires are real?
“You were kidding,” he surmised when I gave him a look.
“Yes, yes we were.”
Price groaned, causing me to giggle. “I’m glad you’re taking this as well as you are.”
I shook my head. “I’m not,” I admitted. “The black eyes and demonic speed I can, surprisingly, wrap my head around at the moment. What I can’t pretend to understand is you lying to me all summer.”
His face dropped. “It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, Mikhail.”
“After the mirror incident, and the running thing, we were terrified that you played us and were ashamed of us,” I said. “Justice forgave you much quicker than I did, even after Dillon explained it to us. Sis was quick to forgive you because the level of betrayal that we felt was unlike anything we had ever experienced before. She couldn’t handle that her guard slipped when she’s the one that is usually protecting us and has the thicker skin. How Daddy was able to hurt her, hurt us, like that she couldn’t handle. When we learned why, she was quick to forgive. I wasn’t. Every person we have ever loved and cared about has somehow hurt us. Intentional or not, it happened. But this was clearly intentional, and it kills us inside. I vowed to never feel like that again, and come to find out, I was played all summer by you and Draven and everyone else. Why did you allow him to do that?” I demanded. “Why did you do that to me? You promised!”