by J. N. Colon
“I am calm!”
His face turned incredulous. He wrapped his arms around me so my face was buried in his chest. “Okay, I think we need to skip the rest of the day.”
“Fine by me.” My voice was a muffled snarl. “As long as Laney isn’t tagging along.”
Mac led me to a small empty cabin at the edge of campus, moss and lichen snaking up the sides, the wilderness attempting to yank it back into its depths.
“This used to be for shifter guards back when hunters were really bad,” Mac explained, pulling me in. “Dimitri set it up for Rufus and Daedalus, but you know them. Neither one would stay that far away from you.”
I nodded. My two royal guards shared a dorm room only a few doors down from Vera and me. The girls on my wing were seriously grateful. I’d seen several of them walking by their door, attempting to catch them without a shirt. I can say from experience it’s a sight worth seeing.
The cabin was a little bigger than my room with a couch, a kitchenette, a bathroom toward the left and a twin bed on the right. The walls and floor were raw wood and windows framed in cream curtains.
“So, what did you bring me in here for? Afraid I’d sink my fangs into Laney?” He should be.
Mac released my hand and stalked toward the cabinet. He pulled out a bottle with amber liquid, shaking it with a smile.
My brows knit. “It’s one o’clock.”
He shrugged, a mischievous glint entering his eyes. “So. I figured you needed to blow off a little steam.” He shook it tauntingly. “You in or out Rubi.”
A grin melted across my face as I snatched the bottle. “In.”
We’d only each had two sips when the liquor became second fiddle. We started kissing and things got hot and heavy fast. Before I knew it we were on the bed, tearing our clothes off.
“Don’t rip my skirt again,” I said, already feeling his control slipping.
“You started it Rubi.”
“Shut up.” I covered his mouth with mine. “I couldn’t help myself. You did it on purpose.”
“You keep teasing me with these little kisses and I’ll rip the shirt too,” Mac growled. His hands lifted my shirt and tossed it aside. He suddenly gripped my hips and flipped me over until he was hovering above me. His fangs were extended, gleaming and sharp while his eyes melted silver. “I’ll be taking what’s mine now.”
My breath hitched and veins pulsed erratically. He could sense my desire and stared at me, watching it deepened and unfold before his eyes. My body arched against his, my head falling back to expose more of my neck. “Mac, please,” I moaned.
Without warning his fangs pierced my throat, eliciting a whimper of intense pleasure from me that spurned him on even more.
“We should skip more often,” I said as I slipped my uniform skirt back on.
Mac’s face was flushed and midnight hair more of a mess than usual. He flashed me a cocky smile. “I agree.” He pulled his shirt over his head. “We could stay a little longer.” He leaned over and gently kissed my lone dimple.
Right on cue my stomach rumbled and we both laughed.
“Maybe not.” He checked his watch. “It is dinner time.”
“I’m starving.” I buckled my other shoe and stood.
Mac’s phone rang. “Uh oh. Busted.”
“Whitmore?”
He nodded. “Don’t worry. You won’t be in trouble.” He answered the phone and started laying on excuses.
A sudden chill entered the air. I peeked at Mac, but he was oblivious, which meant I was about to see a ghost.
And sure enough, there was the lady in white. I still couldn’t make out her face as she waved me over. I followed her to the middle of the cabin where she pointed to the floor.
“What?” I asked.
She jumped up and down—well in her case more like floated up and down, her dark hair moving as if she was under water.
My brows knit, but I started jumping up and down. Mac looked at me with a brow arched questioningly. A creak and then a crack resonated. The floor beneath suddenly gave way, splintering and I was falling.
Chapter 20
I was falling and then I wasn’t. Mac’s hand caught my wrist as it passed through the floor.
“Holy shit Rubi!” he yelled as he hauled me easily back up, depositing me next to him.
“I’m okay,” I clutched him for a moment, needing to feel something solid. The ghost was gone. I peered down at the hole leading to a hidden level beneath.
Mac’s hands started frantically searching over me. “Baby, are you all right?”
I nodded. “There was a ghost.”
“It made you fall?” he growled.
“No. She was trying to show me this.”
His brows lifted. “Is that why you were jumping up and down.”
“Yeah.”
Mac cursed. “You could have gotten hurt Rubi all because a ghost told you to do something.”
I tsked. “I’m a vampire Mac. I’m not as fragile as I used to be.”
Mac’s eyes narrowed and he motioned toward the floor with a hand. “Do I seriously need to point out the floor is made of wood and it just splintered into a hundred pointy stakes that could have pierced your heart?”
My insides twisted with sickness. “Oh. I didn’t think about that.” Getting staked by wood wouldn’t kill me, but it would definitely hurt. A lot.
I absentmindedly rubbed the scar on my chest.
He pulled my hand away, gripping it tight. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
I tugged him to a stop. “No. I need to see what’s down there first.”
His expression turned incredulous. “Are you joking?”
I bit my lip and shook my head, reluctant to tell him the truth. I averted my eyes and traced a crack in the floor with my shoe, hesitating. “Well… I’ve been dreaming and seeing this particular ghost since I got to Mossgrove Academy.”
“And you’re just now telling me because…?” He waved a hand in the air for my stellar explanation.
I shrugged. “At first I didn’t think it was real because I could never find the door.”
“What door?”
I waved a dismissive hand in the air. “Never mind. That’s not important.”
“Once you found out it was real why didn’t you tell me?” He crossed his arms against his chest, waiting as his jaw flexed.
“I didn’t want you to worry.” I blinked up at him, trying to portray a face of pure innocence.
Mac shook his head and mumbled something that sounded like she’s always getting herself into trouble…
“Hey,” I said indignantly. “I heard that.”
He sighed. “Well, I’m going down first.” Before I could stop him he disappeared through the hole.
“What’s down there?” I asked from above.
“Nothing much.” I watched his head spin around, taking in the secret underground room. “It’s mostly empty.”
There must be something to it. “I’m coming.” I jumped into his arms with ease.
He sat me down. “See. It’s only a room.”
Ice chilled my blood as I took in my surroundings, my face paling and fingers going numb. I’d seen this place before—in my nightmares.
The room was dilapidated and shrouded in dust and grime, but I could still see the desk in one corner and the bench in the other. I spun around and saw the broken remnants of a simple wood ladder. I could feel the phantom heat of candles touching my skin, the harsh stares of hunters, and the cold blade of a knife.
I absentmindedly rubbed my neck, remembering the pain of the wound. My chest also tingled with the death blow I dreamed about last night.
Oh man. This was the room the hunters murdered the girl in my dreams.
Why would the white ghost want me to see this? What does she have to do with this girl?
“You guys, this can’t simply be a coincidence,” I said for the millionth time from my spot on the leather couch. “In my dream hunters killed this
girl on campus in that room. It has to mean they were able to infiltrate the school back then.”
Mac, Whitmore, Dimitri, Demy, and me sat in Dimitri’s office at Mossgrove Academy. Even though he wasn’t a faculty member he still had an office. He was the leader of the shifters. Of course he had an office. It was decorated in rich, dark colors of hunter green, burgundy, and warm browns. Plush Persian rugs stretched across cherry wood floors and an antique fireplace was the epicenter of the room. Too bad the weather was still warm enough to feel like summer. Otherwise I would love to curl up next to a roaring fire and fall asleep. Dimitri wouldn’t mind me napping on the floor of his office.
The required mahogany desk—every important member of the supernatural world seemed to have one—sat toward the far left while leather furniture spotted the sitting area. The scent of burning fire that is unique to the shifters drifted through the room along with the leather, sweet cigar smoke, brandy, and cherry taffy, which was Dimitri’s favorite candy.
The massive Russian shifter crossed his arms against his chest, his black collared shirt straining over his muscles. “I assure you, no hunters have ever been at this school. It’s filled with shifters and vampires.” He took a seat in the cushy leather chair behind his desk. “They would have been discovered by now.”
I tossed my hands in the air in frustration. Why did I even bother telling them my dreams this time? They know I’m psychic and yet they still want to be stubborn.
“Awe.” Demy patted my head. “She’s so cute when she pouts.”
I smacked his hand away and scowled. “I’m having these dreams for a reason. They must mean something.”
Whitmore twisted his royal silver and ruby ring around his finger contemplatively. “Dimitri, I do admit in the past Rubi’s dreams could have saved us a lot of grief.”
Thank you.
“But…”
Ugh. There’s always a but.
“They always aren’t so literal.” He skewered me with his stormy gray eyes as he arched a brow. “Am I right?”
I crossed my arms against my chest with a huff. “Maybe,” I begrudgingly admitted.
Mac gently massaged my shoulders from behind, attempting to melt away the tension. “What if it is? Maybe not now, but could hunters have been here whenever this girl was killed?”
Dimitri scratched his stubble. “I suppose it’s possible, back before we had a good stronghold on the school.” His dark eyes met mine. “Do you have any idea when this alleged girl was here?”
My brows knit as I thought of her appearance, nothing really standing out. She wasn’t sporting peace earrings denoting the sixties or crimped hair for the eighties or poodle skirts for the fifties. The past was probably nothing like the movies portray. “Nope.”
“Well, whether the hunters were here or not or whether Rubi’s dreams are literal or not they still mean something.” Demy folded his lithe body down beside me, his thigh touching mine, spreading warmth. “The hunters are up to something, like that weapon against vampires again.”
Mac, Whitmore, and Dimitri both nodded in agreement.
“But they’re unable to complete the poison they wanted to use against us,” Mac said, striding around the couch to sit on my other side. “They don’t have Rubi’s blood and now she’s a vampire, rendering her blood useless.”
Whitmore ran his fingers through his hair, mussing it up and reminding me of Mac. “Maybe they found a new way to make that poison.”
I chewed on my bottom lip, thinking about the dream I had with the shifter being tortured in a lab. Could hunters be using shifters to create a poison against vampires? They do have powerful blood. Not quite human, but maybe human enough.
“Maybe we should amp up security around campus,” Whitmore said. “The hunters already tried to assassinate Rubi on her birthday.”
My scowl showed my protest which they wholeheartedly ignored. “Or maybe we should figure out who the descendent of this girl from my dream is who’s supposed to be the end of the hunters’ evil plot. That’s sounds like a better plan.”
Dimitri lit a cigar, puffing on it until the thick cherry was bright orange. “Do you have anything to go on?”
My nose crinkled at the pungent, sweet scent. “Only that they must have some kind of psychic ability.”
Demy’s violet eyes shifted toward me, his studded brow arching. “You’re psychic. What if it’s you?”
I scoffed. “We already went over this. The chick we’re looking for had to descend from another psychic.” I tossed my hands in the air. “My gifts just popped out of nowhere once I returned to Highland and encountered vampires again.”
Mac draped his arm over my shoulders and pulled me closer, his jade eyes glinting before he kissed my dimple. “I’m definitely glad you came back.” His heady, wild forest scent wafted up my nose, making my heart flutter.
“Hey, me too.” Demy leaned against me, wrapping his arms around my waist so I was now sandwiched between the two.
My grimace came out more like a smile, making Dimitri and Whitmore chuckle.
Demy’s amber scent suddenly washed over me, making my gums ache with need and mouth water. I suppressed a groan and buried my face in Mac’s chest to block it and to hide the silver flecks I knew were dancing in my eyes from thirst.
Chapter 21
I felt for the tiara on my head again, making sure it was in place. I was terrified of losing the thing. Part of me wanted to wear it every day, all day long. And the other part wanted to immediately take it off and wrap it in silk and velvet before I broke it or did something to have it taken away.
Of course it can’t be taken away. It was mine now. And I was a princess.
How freaking nuts is that?
My coronation was finally here and I kept pinching myself wondering if this is all some big dream. Not in a million years did I think I’d be standing in front of a bunch of vampires, getting crowned by a king.
Aspen and Emmaline argued over every aspect of my appearance as they dressed me together. Aspen wanted me to look stylish and trendy while Emmaline thought I should look classically beautiful. Finally Vera told them to both stuff it and comprise. I ended up in a scarlet corseted dress with a skirt of draping silk and taffeta. Sparkling silver heels peeked from beneath and I wore the royal crest necklace from Whitmore. My hair was in curls pulled from my face with the tiara now nestled on top. I looked like a princess.
Something like this was usually held at a giant palace in Europe with tons more people, but Whitmore decided with the threat of the hunters it was too dangerous to travel. Instead we were at a massive planation home in Savanah complete with a double sided curling staircase I made my entrance on. Mac was the only reason I didn’t fall on my ass, his strong arm looped around mine to escort me the entire way. Massive glittering chandeliers hung from the ceilings, dowsing everything in warm golden hues. Colors of red, white, gold, and silver spotted the giant ball room—yeah this house had a ball room—and fragrant flowers littered the silk and lace covered tables.
Everything was extravagant and over the top and—well—royal. Even the guests were dressed immaculately in shiny black tuxedos and the women in gleaming dresses and shining jewelry. Of course I didn’t expect anything less from vampires.
When I stood on the stage they constructed I was a shaking, trembling mess and if it hadn’t been for Mac clutching my hand I probably would have passed out. I almost puked when Whitmore asked if there was anything I wanted to say.
A speech? No one said anything about a speech!
I don’t even remember the words dropping out my mouth. There was a thank you in there and I might have apologized for anything embarrassing I might do that night—that got a few laughs. I think I said something about trying my hardest and learning from Miranda.
Then Whitmore, Miranda, Mac, and me had to sit in thrones—really just insanely ornate chairs with a red carpet littered with petals leading up to them—while every vampire at the party stepped up to acknowledge
me as their princess. Hudson gave me a genuine, dramatic bow worthy of true royalty. Brant on the other hand flashed me a massive shit-eating grin followed by Aspen who eyed my crown enviously.
I bet she never imagined I, the awkward girl she hated as a roommate at first, would become a princess and be sort of married to McCollum Davenport.
If only Jill and Eric could see me now.
Some of the vampires came up in pairs or as a family. Most were nice, some a little aloof, but one family made me feel like icicles were suddenly hanging off my skin. In fact the Svenssons looked sleek as ice.
Finally the formal part was over and I could enjoy myself, well as much as I could in a gown, heels, makeup, and a million eyes on me. I was starving, but kept my distance from the food not trusting myself to eat without cramming my face. Instead I headed to the drink table straight for the blood.
“Gees Rubi,” Aspen hissed as she sauntered over, looking impeccable in a sleek black gown. “Slow down. You’re going to choke.”
And here I thought I’d be more graceful and demure as a vampire. Ha!
Brant snorted on a laugh. “Rubi-licious. I knew you’d love blood just as much as a juicy steak.” He wiggled his blonde brows. “I bet you’re just as zealous in bed.”
Mac slapped him on the back of the head, shaking his blonde halo of hair while Aspen elbowed him.
“Ouch man.” He rubbed the probably tender spot.
“Watch what you say to her.” Mac pulled me closer and nuzzled my neck. “She’s a married woman.”
Now I almost did choke on my blood.
“Not quite yet McCollum,” Whitmore said as he passed by with Miranda in a stunning lilac gown.
She flashed a proud dazzling smile our way. “I’m sure we could make it official as soon as you like. Tomorrow maybe?” Her brows lifted in expectation.
“Miranda,” Whitmore hissed, his gray eyes glinting with silver. “Don’t encourage them. They’re seventeen.” His neatly combed pitch hair gleamed in the lights of the chandeliers.
She only laughed, shaking her sleek auburn curls and waved her long, delicate fingers at us.