by Sofia Daniel
She shook her head and muttered something about getting myself killed.
Each of the Stryx Brothers gave me an assessing look, as though not kissing Dante’s feet had marked me out as someone to watch. Nero and Dante broke eye contact to look at each other. My throat dried. I hoped this didn’t mean they were plotting ways to punish me for defying them.
The Coven of Bitches weren’t assessing me at all. Pigtails’ lips quirked into an amused smile, and Micalla shot me a look of naked disdain. The pain in my throat from yesterday’s strangling flared up.
Dread rumbled through my insides like a clap of thunder. What had I done to offend Micalla, now?
Chapter 5
Once the Stryx Brothers received their sangria, the chatter resumed in the dining room, and the vampires turned their cold gazes back to their glasses. Professor Proust lowered himself into his seat, turned to Miss Margolyes, and whispered something in her ear. She nodded and glanced in my direction. From the stern expression on her face, I was guessing she would warn me about what not to say within the earshot of vampires.
Unease settled over my shoulders like a cloak of brambles, and I stared at my plate of barely eaten breakfast. Only congealed slabs of liver and blood sausage remained, so I skewered a piece of sausage and choked it down with a mouthful of orange juice. Even if it wasn’t anything I’d normally eat, I would need all the sustenance I could get for my escape at sunrise.
“He’s calling us over.” Annette helped Zarah up, and they walked to one of the vampire tables, where a tall, thin vampire with long, curly hair sat on his own. Nathaniel, I supposed. He gave the girls a warm smile and ushered Zarah to sit next to him. Annette helped Zarah into her seat, then Nathaniel leaned forward, placed his fingers under her chin, and tilted her head up, so they made eye contact.
Still keeping my gaze on Nathaniel, I leaned toward Kat and asked out of the corner of my mouth, “What’s he doing?”
When Kat didn’t answer, I turned to meet angry, blue eyes and a face twisted into a rictus of anger. “Don’t you care that you caused Zarah to take your punishment?”
My mouth dropped open. Had Kat not seen what had happened? I was about to kneel when Raphael held me back. “But I—”
“You don’t understand anything!” she hissed. “Vampire hunters came to my house, snatched my sister and shot at my mom.” I sucked in a deep breath through my teeth, but before I could comment, she continued. “If it wasn’t for a team of vampire guards arriving at the same time, the whole family would have died. Mom’s now safe in a Noble House with my little brother and sister.”
Gaping, I pushed aside what she had said about the existence of vampire hunters. “Have you heard from your family? What happened to your dad?”
Her face tightened. Then she parted her lips as though to say something, thought better of it, and then shook her head. “I’m going to class.” She stood. “Check your attitude and learn some facts before you start running your mouth.”
As Kat stormed out of the dining room, my shoulders slumped. Instead of giving me platitudes about not escaping, she could have shared this information with me. Hadn’t Micalla told her to explain the rules? If I didn’t know any better, I would think she had asked me which of the Stryx brothers I liked best, so I could make a fool of myself. My gaze flickered to the middle table where Dante fixed me with those accursed, blue eyes, and Micalla twisted around in her seat and sneered.
At the end of breakfast, Zarah and Annette returned from Nathaniel’s table, and the three of us walked out of the dining hall and through the hallways in silence. I glanced at Zarah, who trailed beside us with her head dipped.
“Zarah,” I whispered. “Are you alright?”
She raised her head, brows drawn together, and gave me a soft nod. “It’s strange. I know what happened yesterday, but Nathaniel took the pain away and left me with… I don’t know. Acceptance?”
I gaped. “What do you mean?”
“I can’t change what happened. My aunt wouldn’t want me to pine away for her.” A sad smile crossed her features. “She’d tell me to pull my socks up and make the most of my new life. Maybe it will lead to something good.”
We rounded a corner to join a line of humans outside a classroom. I continued staring at Zarah, who looked ahead with a serene expression. Had Nathaniel also made her accept her place at the academy? From her calmness, I think he had. Annette murmured something into Zarah’s ear that caused her to smile, and my spirits sank. While it was great that she was no longer distraught, she looked like she wanted to succeed in the academy.
One of the servants opened the classroom door and let us inside. After we settled into our seats, Miss Margolyes walked into the room, keeping her eyes on the table I shared with Zarah. “Class, please welcome our new students, Alicia Stephens, and Zarah Peridot.”
A few people turned around and gave us sympathetic smiles. I raised my brows. It looked like some of my new classmates didn’t share Kat’s optimistic view of the vampires being their saviors.
Miss Margolyes addressed our table. “Basic Protection is a class for those of you who will be matched with solitary vampires who live in major cities and have a limited amount of staff.”
A few of the people in front nodded. My stomach churned at the thought of being matched to any type of vampire at all.
“Slayers are ordinary humans from all walks of life,” she turned on the projector and went through pictures of a mailman, a mom pushing a buggy, and two rebellious-looking teens. “And many of them already know the whereabouts of vampires but are waiting for the right moment to strike.”
I raised my hand. “What’s the point of sending us out to vampires if they’re already under surveillance?”
She mumbled something about the more prominent members of the vampire community having better protection than regular vampires, but nothing in her voice convinced me this was actually true.
“Are we going to live as prisoners for the rest of our lives?” I asked.
Miss Margolyes shook her head. “We wouldn’t hand you over to just anyone. When you’ve found a compatible mate, you’ll be afforded the freedom and the benefits of any high-status consort.”
Before I could ask her the point of teaching us basic protection for those handed to lone vampires, she clapped her hands together and offered the rest of the class a dazzling smile. “Recap! Who can tell me ways a frumosi can protect themselves from hostile vampires?”
“Don’t look them in the eyes for more than a few seconds,” said a boy at the back.
“Why?”
“Because they can mesmerize you into doing anything they want, including offering them all your blood.”
My insides cringed.
“What else?”
“Get a blood oath of protection,” shouted a girl from the other side of the room.
Miss Margolyes folded her arms across her chest. “But what’s the most important for the survival of a frumosi?”
Kat’s hand shot up. “Vampires can’t drink our blood without our invitation.”
My brows rose. That was extremely useful knowledge.
The doors burst open, and a pair of vampires wearing the same black armor from last night threw a disheveled figure through the doors. It was the juvenile delinquent from the night before. I shot to my feet, but one of the guards held out his hand. “This boy’s a little scrappy, Miss. You probably don’t want to get close.”
Miss Margolyes tilted her head to the side. “Paul Gately, I presume?”
“It’s Gates.” The delinquent pulled himself onto his hands and knees and spat on the marble floor.
One of the guards growled and stamped a foot on the back of the boy’s leg, making him kneel. The entire class, including me, gasped. I turned to Miss Margolyes, who stared at the violence with impassive eyes. My stomach dropped. Why didn’t she say something to make them stop?
The vampire guard dragged Gates to a nearby desk. Gates clenched his teeth and tried dig
ging his heels into the floor, but it was no use. I’d already learned the futility of fighting against a vampire’s superior strength.
After the vampire jostled Gates into a seat, he stood at the wall and glowered at the young man. Each time Gates tried to rise, the vampire slammed him back into place with the palm of his hand. I winced each time he got struck. This had to be the punishment Kat had alluded to for frumosi who tried to escape.
Miss Margolyes continued the class, which was a refresher on vampire superiority. This morning’s experience taught me everything I needed to know about their enhanced senses. I stared at Gates’ broad back. At some point during the day, I needed to get him alone. If anyone in this accursed academy would work with me on an escape, it would be him.
A gong sounded, and Miss Margolyes let out a happy sigh. “Thank you, class, and it was so wonderful to welcome Alicia, Zarah, and Paul into the fold. Enjoy your free period.”
Zarah blew on her notes and placed her fountain pen into her leather satchel, acting as though she was a new student lucky to attend this fancy boarding school and not the captive of a bunch of noble vampires. I guessed Nathaniel’s mesmerism or whatever he had done to her in the morning had stuck.
The vampire guard watching Gates grabbed him by the back of the blazer, pulled him to his feet, and stuffed his satchel into his arms.
I followed after them, cringing each time the guard maltreated Gates. When we reached the door, Micalla and the twins stood on the other side. Her face lit up into a gleeful smirk that radiated some kind of victory she’d achieved over us. Maybe she was about to get her revenge for what I’d said about vampires at breakfast.
My insides twisted into a mass of writhing knots that stretched up my gullet and constricted my breaths. Without meaning to, my hand rose to the base of my throat.
Micalla tracked the movement with amused eyes. “Guess who’s going to grooming class?”
Pigtails grinned. “Stephens, Peridot, and…” Her gaze flickered up and down Gate’s form. “Gately.”
“I thought we had a free period,” I said.
Ponytail rolled her eyes. “Don’t you ever learn? The sooner you go with them and get your makeover, the sooner you’ll join the other frumosi.”
Zarah stepped forward and pinched a lock of hair between her fingers. “Will you be able to do something about my split ends?”
Micalla looped her arm around Zarah’s. “Of course!”
“Fuck this.” Gates turned on his heel, only for the vampire guard to grab him by the back of his blazer and shove him back into place.
Pigtails’ grin widened. “You’re feisty.” She walked to the other side of Gates, her gaze devouring the young man’s muscular form. It was clear that someone had forced on his uniform, as everything about the garments looked crooked. She placed her hand on his ass and squeezed. “I’m going to enjoy you, Buckaroo.”
Gates flinched and shrank into the male vampire, who shoved him forward several paces. My lip curled. It was bad enough that they held him captive. Now, the guard punished him for not wanting to get groped.
Ponytail placed her hands on her hips and stared down at me with eyes half-lidded with boredom. “I’d rather not drag you, but if that’s what you need to get to your grooming class—”
“I’ll go.”
We trailed behind the others down the black-and-white-tiled hallway and into another section of the castle, consisting of exposed stonework carved into intricate patterns that spread up to an arched ceiling. An entire wall of arched windows stretched out for several feet, giving a view of the forest and beyond. The moon emerged from the clouds and cast its silvery glow on the treetops.
I turned to Ponytail. “Are there really werewolves out there in the forest?”
“Don’t get any clever ideas,” she snapped.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
She snorted. “Sure, you don’t.”
I chewed my lip. According to some legends, werewolves only transformed on the full moon. Or the day before and after if one believed certain books and TV shows. This meant that the forest was safe the remaining nights of the month, but more importantly, during the day.
We rounded the corner. Micalla opened the door to what looked like a bathroom and ushered Zarah inside. The guard gave Gates a shove and held the door open to a giggling Pigtails. I glanced at Ponytail, who had the same identical cerulean eyes, pale skin and red lips, like a vampire Snow White. The only difference between the girls was that one smiled all the time, and the other scowled though I suspected that the friendlier of the pair was the crueler.
‘Grooming class’ turned out to be a small hair salon, complete with a pair of hair washing sinks, hairdryers, and swivel chair set in front of mirrors. Two servants stood behind the sinks like a pair of puppets that hadn’t yet been activated. Full-length mirrors ran along the far wall, making me wonder whether this room had been set up for frumosi, as only the servants could cast any reflection.
A groan reverberated in the back of my throat, and I glanced at my captor. Ponytail held her face in a blank expression, but I imagined she had even less interest in grooming humans than me.
Micalla positioned Zarah behind a full-length mirror and stood at her back. “You carry all your weight on your lower half, don’t you, dear? Flat-chested, pudgy around the middle, thighs like tree trunks and cankles the size of a baby elephant.”
Zarah’s cheeks turned red. “I-I…”
Anger flared through my veins. “Why are you—”
Ponytail’s slender hand clamped over my mouth. “You won’t prolong this tedium by protesting.” She shoved me onto one of the seats by the mirror. “Shut up and wait your turn to be assessed.”
The guard forced Gates onto something that looked like a massage table. Before the young man could get up, the vampire held him down while Pigtails fastened leather arm and leg straps around his limbs. Gates bared his teeth and thrashed, but the restraints held him secure. I tried to get out of my seat, but Ponytail shoved me down again. This was no massage table. It was some kind of BDSM furniture.
Pigtails approached him with a pair of tweezers. “You’d be nearly handsome if you took care of your appearance.”
“Fuck. You,” Gates snarled through his teeth.
“Actually, I will. Let’s hope you last longer than the average frumosi, or I’ll bite you and not release any bliss.”
My stomach churned. Some animals released venom to numb their bites, paralyze their victims, or to stop their victims’ blood from clotting. If the vampires called it bliss, then I expected it caused humans to feel pleasure and enjoy being fed upon. But didn’t Miss Margolyes say they couldn’t drink our blood without an invitation?
As Gates continued thrashing within his restraints, Pigtails climbed onto the torture table and straddled his hips. The sound of a zipper opening filled the air, and I snatched my gaze away to the vampire guard, who watched them from a nearby wall with his arms folded and a smile quirking his lips.
A mixture of fury and disgust rippled through my insides. Was Pigtails really undressing Gates under the watchful eye of that guard? This place was sicker than I thought. I raised my head and glared at Ponytail, silently urging her to stop her sister, but the stoic vampire folded her arms across her chest. Getting up to help would be futile. She would only shove me down again.
Micalla turned around and bared her teeth. She probably thought it was a smile, but it looked more like a threat. “I noticed you made an impact on the Stryx Brothers. How do you like them?”
My eyes narrowed at her obvious trick question. “I don’t.”
“Good.” Her dark blue eyes turned as cold as glaciers. “Dante belongs to me, and so do the other two. Talk to them, and I’ll make you suffer.”
“I’m not interested in any vampire,” I said.
“Keep it that way, and we’ll get on just fine.”
The temperature of her glare turned the lining of my stomach to ice, and I kept my gaze
on a tendril of silver hair curling around one of her gorgeous cheekbones. She obviously wanted one of them. My lips flattened against my teeth. She was welcome to him. All of them. I had no intention of looking at a single vampire unless it was after I’d plunged a stake in their chests.
Micalla turned back to Zarah and continued to destroy the girl’s self-confidence with a dissection of every imagined flaw. By the time Zarah’s shoulders slumped, and her head dipped to hide her face in a curtain of dishwater-blonde hair, Micalla handed the girl over to a servant who moved her to the hair-washing station.
Micalla beckoned me over to the mirror. It reflected only Zarah at the sink, and the knocker waiting patiently behind her. Disgust writhed through my insides. What was so different about vampires that they didn’t cast any reflection? I swallowed hard. They weren’t reanimated corpses as I had thought. Some of the vampires at the academy had been little children, and Micalla had told me the night before that vampire females were capable of getting pregnant and giving birth. But something about them just—
Ponytail prodded me in the back. “Are you going to stand there wasting everyone’s time? Move!”
I stood in front of the mirror, suppressing a shudder as Micalla placed her hands on my waist.
“You’d actually be quite pretty if you didn’t pull that face.” She ran her long fingers through my colored hair. “Do you ever shampoo? And what is this, some sort of bargain-basement dye job?”
“Color wax,” I said between clenched teeth.
Micalla hummed a non-committal note. The worst part about standing in front of her was that I could feel her presence behind me but couldn’t see her in the mirror. I imagined those malevolent eyes raking over my body and finding me wanting. Just as she had done with Zarah. After a few cringe-worthy moments, she said, “You have the posture of an octogenarian, but apart from that the basics are fine.”
A breath of relief whooshed out from between my lips, and I gave myself a slap upside the head. Since when did I need the approval of a blood-drinking bitch?