by Shania Tyler
or the blood in her throat. …
.
Spring was always beautiful at Morwen. The Atlantic Ocean’s breeze blew, stirring the smells of freshly cut lawns and oak bark. It was Amity’s favorite time of year, though she was sure that the feeling of elation that usually came with the season had a lot to do with it being close to summer break as much as it had to do with the sunlight and nature.
* * *
But if she were being truthful, Morwen was beautiful year-round, appearing as a winter wonderland in the cold of December and an autumn retreat during October. Maple trees took up as much land as buildings and open fields made the school seem like a well-kept secret, hidden in a place that only those who were lucky could find.
Amity looked around the school, but knew that her new interest in the surroundings had little to do with its beauty and everything to do with avoiding the man who walked alongside her.
When they’d left the administrative building three minutes ago, she’d taken a glance at him and had gotten the wind knocked out of her. He was even more beautiful outside. His skin, that perfect, flawless, Hollywood-ready face, seemed to not just glow in the light, but radiate in a way that made Amity wonder if it were the sun that made their surroundings brighter or him.
After that, she’d kept her eyes averted and pointed to the various buildings as they walked. Thankfully, the administrative building was located in the central square of campus, which meant that many of recreational buildings were visible from its front steps.
She pointed out the theatre, the auditorium, and the gymnasium. An open grass field connected all the buildings together. Students lounged on the lawn in various groups, while off on the side, a game of flag football was being played with spectators watching. A few students sat alone on tables either doing homework with headphones on or simply reading a book.
They’d walked right to the edge of the grass field and stopped on the sidewalk. Amity pointed to the theatre. “That’s Link Hall. It was built in 1873 by John and Betty Link, a couple who’d met and married at Glory.”
“Glory?” he asked.
She nodded, but still didn’t look at him. “It’s a small haven on campus that has a natural stream. It’s where the chapel is located. There’s a nice gazebo and picnic area outside, and it’s located just far enough from the rest of campus to avoid noise from Main Street. It’s actually really pretty. There are vines hanging from the trees, and the agriculture department put in an organic community garden a few years ago.”
He took a step toward her and, on impulse, she looked up into his eyes.
His grin appeared, causing a laugh line by his tilted mouth and her breathing became difficult when she wondered what it would be like to see him smile. “You seem to be well-informed about your surroundings,” he said with that touch of an accent that she found to be quite alluring.
Amity nodded. “Well, my family has been attending the school since nearly the beginning. I’m named after my great-great-grandmother, who attended Morwen when it was only Morwen School for Learning in 1863. The school’s museum is named after her.”
“Ah,” he said, as though a light were being turned on in his head. “This explains it.”
She shrugged. “Morwen is in my blood.”
“It sure is!”
Amity turned toward the man who’d shouted the comment and smiled. It was Ted Smith, the school’s leader of student activities. He was an older gentleman with gray hair and kind, dark eyes. Amity realized that when she’d thought of who would become president of Morwen, she’d expected someone like him. Someone who was more of a father figure, not someone who triggered romantic fantasies. “Hey, Mr. Ted.”
At his side, Amity noticed a girl who was hiding her face behind long, black hair and her eyes beneath heavy liner and mascara. She did not look pleased to be with Mr. Ted. She glanced up, giving Amity a hint of her blue eyes before looking down again. Amity placed her in the freshman class.
He stopped close to the two of them and grinned over at Mr. Scott. “You won’t find a better tour guide than our Amity,” he boasted. Then he looked at the girl at his side and frowned.
“I’m sure,” Mr. Scott agreed. His eyes slid to the girl and he asked, “Where are you going?”
“Campus security found Miss Truman vandalizing one of the trees.” He turned to Amity and said, “You’ll see her tonight at the discipline hearing.”
“I didn’t do anything,” the girl mumbled.
Ted turned to her. “Carving initials into trees is a crime.”
Miss Truman threw her hands up in the air and said, “I didn’t know it was illegal.”
“It’s private property,” Mr. Ted said.
Amity smiled. “It would be great to get the art center back open after hours so that students can express themselves in a legal fashion.”
Ted narrowed his eyes. “Yes, but we don’t have the funding to pay for workers—”
“All we need are volunteer students to keep it open.” She gave a pointed smile to Miss Truman.
Ted chuckled. “I see what you’re doing, Miss Woods. You can make your suggestion at the hearing tonight.”
“I will.”
Truman shook hands with President Scott and left, but Ronan noticed little Miss Truman give a smile to Amity before turning to walk with Ted.
Ronan turned to Amity. “You sit on the student disciplinary board?” He was impressed.
Amity shrugged and started them across the street. “I’m not the president or anything like that. I just help where I can.”
“And you plan to help Miss Truman.”
Amity smiled. “Petty crime . . . and heck, I didn’t even know carving trees was illegal.”
Ronan grinned. Where he was from, it most definitely was. Trees on one’s property were sacred, but Ronan was sure that in this world, this was not the case.
Since arriving to Earth, Ronan had remained in his office, working on the assignment he’d been given. He’d been sent to find a girl who had gone missing from the campus. The girl, who was really an elf from one of the wealthy families on his world, had been taken by The Darkness, or Monrel, as his people in Asea liked to call him. It was Ronan’s job to find the girl and Monrel. Then, he’d take the girl back to Asea and send Monrel somewhere far away.
It was a very simple task, and yet . . . Ronan had gotten nowhere, which he found to be quite annoying when one added in the fact that he was the only one who held the ability to do the job.
Being part of a gifted bloodline and being half elf and half vampire gave Ronan the ability to both find and banish beings in and out of worlds. His friend, Cassuss, who was half dragon, but a complete arse, called him Lost & Found. It was an idiom he’d picked up in this world and thought went with Ronan’s ability perfectly.
Ronan found some things and made sure other things were lost.
Usually, this was easy.
Not this time.
So far, he could not find Heather Graves, much less get a sense of her in this world, which meant that Monrel was hiding her . . . which also meant that Ronan was forced to use more conventional methods of finding Miss Graves.
He’d have to investigate.
And what better way to start than with a tour of the campus by a girl who’d been close to Heather.
“You seem kind.”
Amity turned to catch Mr. Scott’s eye. “There’s no telling if the rest of the board will agree with my suggestion.”
“You also avoid compliments.”
She felt her face sting. “Sorry. Thanks.”
He grinned. “You enjoy it here?”
Amity nodded. “Yeah, I mean, it wasn’t like I had much of a choice, but in the end, destiny sort of aligned with what I wanted anyway.”
He smiled softly, and Amity got a peek of the top row of his teeth. They were perfectly white. “If only destiny were so kind to everyone,” he murmured a moment later.
Amity asked, “Where are you from?”
His smile froze in place and he said, “Very far away.” Then he turned back toward the grass, showing her his profile while his eyes rested on no particular point in the distance. The blue of his irises all but washed out in the light.
“No, duh,” she said with a laugh. “Let me guess. Europe?”
His smile grew again, and he turned back to her. “Perhaps, and what of you?”
The tables were turned so quickly that Amity’s mind took a moment to catch up. “Uh, here in Morwen. I’ve always lived here. Did you attend Morwen?”
He shook his head.
“Then how did you get the position?” she dared to ask.
“They needed me,” he said plainly.
“You must be wealthy,” she blurted as she found herself relaxing more about him. It was the only reason that made sense. There had been two other good candidates for presidency, but somehow Mr. R. Scott had taken it. He had to be wealthy. Actually, he had to be more than wealthy. He had to be filthy, stinking rich! Which made sense with all the donations that had poured in after his installation ceremony.
He narrowed his eyes at her. “I provide for myself nicely.”
“No wife? Kids?”
His lips smiled even further and he whispered, “No.”
Amity’s heart kicked into full throttle, though she had no idea what the feeling meant. Was she glad he was single? And if so, what did that mean for her?
Nothing. He was totally off limits.
It was time to get back on track.
“Have you never walked around Morwen campus? Ever?” she asked.
He shook his head. “This will be my first time.”
That was surprising.
He went on. “From what you’ve told me so far, I am glad that I haven’t. I’d never have seen it with the same parallelism to grandeur you seem to give it. I wish to see it through your eyes. Perhaps, this is why the school thought you the perfect guide.”
Amity swallowed and told herself to not think too deeply about what he’d said. There had been no compliment, just a statement of facts. She did think highly of Morwen, so perhaps it was a good reason she was giving him the tour. However, she couldn’t let him think her school spirit the only reason she’d been pushed onto him.
“There are other reasons,” she said and looked away sheepishly. When a group from the volleyball team passed, they waved hello and Amity waved back. She saw that some of the girls sized President Scott up with open interest, and she had to hold back a chuckle. If only they knew who he was.
“What is this other reason?” he said, calling her attention back to him.
Amity licked her lips. “Uh.” There was no polite way to say she’d harassed every other person of power in the school about her current issue and they’d all but thrown her in the president’s direction. It was safe to say they were quite tired of her. She decided on a more diplomatic approach. “I’m head of the Student Civil Rights Organization on campus and have been asking that some of the donor money be used toward Lane Hall, the female dorm that has been neglected for over twenty years as opposed to Johnson Hall, the male dorm, which just received a renovation five years ago.”
He frowned, and Amity got the sense that he was really listening to her. “I’d like to see Lane Hall.”
Amity smiled, for those were the words she’d hoped he’d say. “Then follow me.” And with a new bounce in her step, she headed down the sidewalk.
Ronan’s feet fell in along hers, yet though she spoke, he heard not a word she said. Heather had lived in Lane Hall and if he managed to get a hand on any of her belongings, he might be able to sense her energy.
He’d seen the hope bloom inside of Amity when she’d thought he’d actually cared about renovations and a part of him—his elf half, he was sure—wished he’d found interest in her organization or their wants, but the reality was that he didn’t have any interest to waste. Monrel had to be found and Heather had to be freed.
He looked over at Amity, however, and was unable to resist watching the way the sun made her hair glitter like the diamonds in the Asea Mountains. There were just enough touches of gold mixed in with her dark strands that he would like to watch her hair dance forever . . . especially when it was paired with her sweet face.
He’d been right about humans. From what he’d seen so far, Amity was a jewel amongst the rest. He watched her mouth move as she spoke. Her lips were pink and every now that then he got a flash of her tongue and his groin twitched with longing. He wanted to play with that mouth. He wanted to feel her moan into his mouth, and wondered what her already throaty voice would sound like when it was heavy with passion.
His eyes moved to her throat, watching it move with every syllable. Her throat reminded him of a rich crème; he could easily picture himself lapping at her throat like a starved cat.
Her voice stopped and her wide eyes swung his way in surprise. Ronan realized he’d gripped her arm. He hadn’t realized he’d even reached out for her, and the sight of his fingers on her should have made him let her go, but he didn’t want to. Then, as his gaze went back up, he saw the color filled her neck, leaving her cheeks and filling her neck. Her jugular pulsed before his eyes and Ronan’s entire body became conscious of everything that was her. Her smell, her small curves, the pattern of her breathing. He began to lean toward her, not sure if his intentions were for her mouth, or the blood in her throat.
CHAPTER
FOUR
.
.
.
“Have I offended you again?” …
.
Amity could not believe this was happening. She’d been speaking with him about Lane Hall when they’d reached the side of the building, a part of the sidewalk that was shadowed by the full branches of the trees overhead.
* * *
Still, they were very much out in the open when he’d grabbed her. An eagerness that Amity didn’t understand took over her at their connection. She wanted that touch. She wanted it everywhere. Now. And she didn’t care that they were on Main Street and that pedestrians could come upon them at any moment.
She wanted him like she’d never wanted another man before, and the fact that it was wrong only made the throbbing between her legs that much worse.
She closed her eyes as his head began to descend.
“Amity?” said Jenny, her roommate.
Both Amity and Mr. Scott—she really needed to learn the man’s first name—jumped apart and Amity felt herself being pushed behind Mr. Scott in a protective way that almost made her laugh. She stepped in front of him and went to her friend. This was her more her territory than his, after all.
“Hey, Jenny.”
Jenny did nothing to hide the obvious curiosity or approval in her blue eyes. “Amity, who is your friend?” Her hands slid to her long blonde hair, and though one could take her stance as flirtatious, it was Jenny’s signature “consideration” pose. Amity had seen Jenny both praise and insult people with that very look.
Amity was struck by the question, though she knew she should have been prepared for it. As far as Jenny knew, Amity hadn’t dated since freshman year, and now she was about to make out with a hot guy on a public sidewalk?
Mr. Scott answered before Amity could even think of a reply. “Scott,” he said simply.
Amity’s eyes widened, but had she actually thought he’d tell Jenny the truth? No way the president of the university should be kissing a student. Not even a senior on her way out. It could lead to termination . . . for both of them.
She took a step away from Mr. Scott as she thought about just how wrong their actions could have gotten. She couldn’t afford their attraction. She had two months left before graduation, and nothing was going to stop her from receiving her diploma from a school that was more a part of her family’s tradition than holidays at grandma’s house.
“Scott, huh?” Jenny asked with her gaze fixed on Amity. “Well, you should definitely bring Scott to the party tonight.”
&nb
sp; “No!” Amity placed a calming hand on her chest and said, “Scott is busy tonight.” She glanced over to find him smiling at her. God, she loved his grin . . . and it was the very thing she didn’t need right now.
Jenny frowned and then looked at her charm bracelet watch. “Well, I’ve got class, so we’ll talk later.” Her eyes cut to Amity with a meaningful look. She’d want details. Then she turned to Scott and said, “Nice meeting you,” and left.
Amity sighed from emotional exhaustion.
“She was quite lovely.”
Her head whipped to him and her heart beat against her ribcage. “What do you mean?”
He held her eyes and said, “She was nice.”
“Oh.” It was all she could say. Well, it was all she thought appropriate to say when what she’d really wanted to ask was “Just nice?”
“Are you close?” he asked.
Amity didn’t wish to speak about Jenny anymore. “Yes, she lives in Lane Hall as well. It’s the one I want renovated.” She turned to continue down the sidewalk.
“And do you reside there as well?”
They stopped at the busy corner and were forced to wait for the light to change. While they waited, she turned to look at him and said, “Yes, but my being there is not the reason I wish to have the hall renovated. I graduate in two months, so I wouldn’t even benefit from the renovation. I simply believe—”
His finger came to rest upon her lip and there was humor in his eyes when he said, “That’s not why I asked.” His thumb then caressed her lower lip before he pulled away.
Amity gasped at the contact; the urge to pull him back into the shadows of the trees and have her way with him was all consuming. Thankfully, Mr. Scott was no longer looking at her.
What could be possibly have meant by, “That’s not why I asked”? Was there another reason he wanted to know? She didn’t have time to ask.
“The light has changed,” he told her, holding out a hand for her to go before him.