by Sofia Daniel
Raphael placed his hand on my shoulder. “Don’t leave.”
“Why?” I hissed. “Because you hate the thought of someone else talking to me?”
“That’s part of it, I suppose,” he mused.
Heat rushed to my cheeks. What was he saying? That he liked me? The long-dead butterflies in my stomach twitched, and I shook off the warm feelings. Raphael was a hunter. A copper-haired tiger missing its stripes. He probably liked the idea of plunging his fangs into my throat as he plunged himself into my core. Just like those vampires in that smutty series with the southern waitress and the two hot vamps wanting to get into her pants.
“Leave me alone,” I hissed.
He twisted in his seat, leaning his broad chest into my arm. I shuffled my chair away from him, but he only leaned closer. For a vampire, he radiated a lot of warmth, making my skin overheat. His masculine, sandalwood scent curled my senses, and beads of sweat formed on my brow.
“You seem a little flustered,” he said. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Move the fuck away.” I elbowed him in the stomach, but he didn’t budge.
“Anyone would think you didn’t like me.”
I whirled around and glared into his green eyes. Whatever insult I was about to hurl evaporated along with every ounce of moisture in my mouth. It was one thing to see a vampire from afar or from the corner of my eye. They were handsome creatures, but up close, Raphael stole my breath. Part of it was his coloring. With the vibrant, copper tones in his hair, those intensely green eyes, and peaches and cream skin, he looked like something out of a Pre-Raphaelite painting. Maybe that was how he got his name.
My lips tingled from the memory of our kiss. Part of me longed for him to cup my face in his hands and kiss me again.
“There’s a full moon party tomorrow,” his voice echoed in the back of my head. “I want you to come with me as my date.”
“I…”
“Stop fighting against yourself,” he murmured. “You want me just as much as I want you.”
A shocked breath huffed out from my lips. “N-no, I don’t—”
“This-hard-to-get game of yours is fun, but the Sanguine Academy is dangerous. Someone already attacked your mind, and they’ll do it again, given a chance.” His thumb brushed against my parted lips. “You need a protector, and I want to be that vampire.”
That word was the splash of cold water I needed to snap me out of my Raphael-induced stupor.
Irritation flared across my skin, and my spine stiffened. I was about to tell him vampires were my enemies, but self-preservation held my tongue. If I could keep my head and not get distracted, Raphael might be useful.
I raised my head and gave him my broadest smile. Playing along with him might be the answer to finding a way out of the castle.
Chapter 11
The rest of the class was a blur because of the ethereal presence at my side. Now that Raphael turned his attention to Captain Tanar’s lecture, I could let his words sink in. He had seemed concerned about my association with Gates. Was that because of the young man’s many attempts to escape? I chewed my lip and scribbled a pattern in my notebook. From now on, I had to make an effort to warm toward him… without attracting the notice of the Coven of Bitches.
“Miss Stephens!” barked the Captain. “Have you listened to a word I just said?”
I gulped and parroted back something he had mentioned earlier. “Hunters can shoot grenades and bullets containing artificial sunlight that could destroy a vampire from the inside.” When he continued staring at me, I added, “An antiques dealer from Norwich was found in his chair a hollowed shell of mainly arms and legs.”
Captain Tanar narrowed his eyes. “It was a goldsmith.”
He turned away and finished his lecture, and a relieved breath whooshed out of my lungs. I sent Mom a silent message of thanks. She had tried to catch me out on many an occasion when she thought I wasn’t listening. My heart sank at the thought of her and Daniel grieving for me. They both probably thought I was dead.
Gates glared over from the other row, and I gave him an apologetic grimace. He’d probably expected me to slap a burn into Raphael’s pretty face, but I was already on my first warning. I still hadn’t told him of Professor Proust’s warning of three strikes, and you’re a knocker.
The gong sounded, and Raphael stood. “You’ll be my date for the party.” He swept his gaze down my form. “I’ll send you something appropriate.”
I gave him my most flirtatious smile. “I haven’t said yes, yet.”
He leaned down and whispered in my ear, “You will.”
Pleasant tingles scattered across my skin, over my nipples, down my belly, between my legs, and made me squirm in my seat. I gave myself a mental shake. I was playing Raphael, not trying to get into his pants. Raphael walked over to where the other Stryx Brothers sat and gave them a cocky grin. Nero leaned across and narrowed his eyes into another one of his assessing looks.
I narrowed my eyes back. Why did Nero always seem to be sizing me up?
I stuffed my things in my bag and hurried over to Gates. Despite our new alliance, I couldn’t stop thinking about Raphael. For the rest of the afternoon, his warm, woody scent lingered on my blazer. His touch lingered on my skin like a caress.
Our last class of the night was the most cringe-worthy: Health and Hygiene, taught by the school nurse. It was supposed to be about vampire-human reproduction, but Nurse Sora usually segued into teaching frumosi how to please their vampire mates.
“Girls, how are you all settling into your anti-conceptional? Any side-effects?”
“Anti-what?” I asked.
Without looking at me, she said, “The substance we add to your food. We adjust the anti-conceptional to your weight and medical history.”
Bile rose to the back of my throat. “You have our medical records?”
“Of course.” Her brows drew together. “How else would we know how to take care of you here at the academy?”
I glared into my empty notebook. Of course, the vampires would know everything about their precious frumosi. They had stalked us, after all.
Nurse Sora launched into a monologue about how vampire blood could arouse frumosi and enhance the chances of conception, and how frumosi semen and female frumosi lubrication could heal even the direst of injuries in vampires. My hands balled into fists. The more I learned about vampires and frumosi, the more I understood why the academy was such a secure prison.
The gong sounded, ending the nurse’s disturbing lecture. I packed my satchel and huffed out a breath. A few of the girls around me giggled about healing sexy vampires, and I turned on my heel. Why was I the only person who wasn’t excited about being trained to be a multi-functional sex slave?
“Uh!” Someone thudded to the ground.
I whirled around. Zarah lay on the marble floor with her eyelids half-closed. The girls around her stepped away, as though collapsing was contagious, and I rushed forward. “Nurse!”
Nurse Sora strode over and held a vial of smelling salts under Zarah’s nose. Zarah’s eyelids fluttered open, and she groaned.
“Just a bout of light-headedness,” said the nurse. “Miss Peridot, is there any chance you could be pregnant?”
“I thought you said the anti-conceptional took care of that,” I said.
“Some girls request it to be removed from their food. After a course of purgatives, they’re able to menstruate.”
My brows drew together. “Why would anyone—” Realization hit me like a wrecking ball to the side of the head. “They’ve been feeding from you.”
“Who?” asked the nurse.
“Those girls who took Zarah under their wing.”
The nurse loosened Zarah’s shirt and revealed several bite marks at the base of her neck that led down to her breasts. Then she shuffled down the moaning girl’s body and lifted her skirt.
I turned my head. “What are you doing?”
“There are bites all alo
ng her femoral artery,” said the nurse. “Your friend has a pair of demanding lovers. With extra iron supplementation, Miss Peridot will be able to satisfy their needs.”
“B-but,” I spluttered. “They’re taking her blood against her will.”
Nurse Sora’s face turned serious. “Vampires can’t take blood without an explicit invitation, and any frumosi is allowed to feed a vampire as part of a consensual courtship.”
“That’s the problem,” I spat. “How is Zarah supposed to produce day-walking vampires if she’s feeding girls?” It was the only thing I could think of to say that might sway the nurse. All these wretched vampires thought of were the precious offspring.
“It’s all your fault,” whispered Zarah. “If you hadn’t been so rebellious, I wouldn’t have needed their protection.”
I bristled. Even though I was shunned and the victim of multiple pranks, it was still a thousand times better than being fed upon by the Coven of Bitches. “Whose protection?”
She didn’t answer.
I turned to the nurse. “Protection isn’t a consensual relationship. She moved out of my room. Maybe the girls are feeding on her every night.”
“Unless Miss Peridot withdraws her invitation or makes a complaint, there’s nothing I can do,” said the nurse.
“Zarah.” My voice broke. “Say something. You don’t have to suffer.”
She pressed her lips together, turned her head, and remained silent.
Nurse Sora gave me an apologetic smile. “Try not to worry. We have several medications that will keep your friend’s blood levels topped up.”
She may as well have punched me in the gut. All she could offer was a way to keep those awful vampire girls better supplied with Zarah’s blood.
Commander Shanks wrapped a hand around my bicep and lifted me to my feet. “Dinner time.”
I rubbed at my temple and spared Zarah one last look. “This isn’t right.”
After a quiet dinner with Gates, Commander Shanks walked me to my room, but I could barely concentrate. Livid, red bite marks haunted my thoughts, making my stomach twist into a mass of writhing knots. From what I had learned in Health and Hygiene, Vampire saliva could heal those marks, but the Coven had deliberately left them on Zarah. Possibly out of spite. I pictured her trapped in a bedroom with Micalla, the twins, and that blue-haired girl, being passed around like a party favor.
Heartache spread across my chest and crept up the back of my throat. Part of me blamed myself for Zarah’s predicament. If I hadn’t made a show of being upset that Zarah had kissed Dante’s foot in my stead, the Coven of Bitches might not have used her as a bargaining chip.
I swallowed back the lump in my throat. From the time I had met her, Zarah had believed that obeying the vampires would ensure her survival. That was probably why she invited the girls to bite her and why she hadn’t withdrawn her invitation when Nurse Sora said it was possible.
“What a fucking mess,” I muttered.
This psychological warfare was ten times worse than the hair-pulling, blood splattering, and being pelted with rotten meat. I only wished Zarah could see this and put an end to the girls’ blood-drinking.
The next sunset, I opened my door. Commander Shanks was no longer waiting outside my room. I glanced down the hallway, and there was no sign of any vampire guards standing among the girls rushing in and out of each other’s rooms.
Gates wasn’t at our table at breakfast, and neither was his vampire guard. I shoveled a forkful of baked beans in my mouth. He had probably seen me flirting with Raphael in Slayers 101 and decided to run away without me. I cut a huge chunk of my blood sausage and stuffed it in my mouth. Once again, I was on my own, but the absence of the commander meant that I might get a chance to visit the kitchens and speak to the onion woman. Maybe she could give me another sunstone so I could prove my worth to Gates if the vampires caught up with him and dragged him back.
The gong sounded, indicating the end of breakfast. Someone whizzed past and pulled my seat away, making me fall on my already sore tailbone. Laughter filled the dining hall, and humiliation crawled across my skin.
I pulled myself upright and glared at the head table. One of the older vampires would have seen who attacked me, but it seemed that they didn’t care how the vampires punished me for the incident with Dante.
Someone bumped my shoulder, knocking me to the ground.
“Sorry!” Pigtails yanked me up to my feet. “I didn’t see you there.”
I snatched my arm away. “Of course, you didn’t.”
She narrowed her cerulean-blue eyes. “What did you tell Zarah yesterday?”
“Nothing someone who cared about her health wouldn’t say.”
Her face twisted. The double negative probably tied her mind into knots.
Ponytail walked across the room, grabbed her sister’s arm, and led her away, muttering something about wasting time. Pigtails continued glaring at me over her shoulder, as though I’d stolen something precious of hers. I met her glare with a glower of my own. If that air-head thought I’d be intimidated by her, she could think again.
Straightening, I followed the procession of frumosi girls toward the double doors of the dining hall. My encounter with Pigtails had been a change from the usual shunning. It was strangely refreshing to go head to head with a vampire who didn’t use their superior speed against me. But if the girls wanted to start a fight, I’d be ready with my sunlight-enhanced hands.
Someone else bumped into my shoulder, knocking me to one side. It was Juno, the blue-haired vampire I suspected was also feeding from Zarah. “Unless you want something to happen to your little friend,” she snarled in my ear, “I suggest you back the fuck down.”
My brows drew together. “I don’t under—?”
“Did you think that fainting spell in Health and Hygiene was an accident?” Juno’s pretty face twisted into an expression of cold malice. “It was a warning. Stay away from Raphael and the others. We know exactly how much to take, and if you go to the full moon party tomorrow with any of Micalla’s men, you’ll have Zarah’s blood on your hands.”
I sucked in a deep breath. That’s what Zarah had meant about her situation being my fault!
Juno swaggered through the double doors and out of the hallway, looking like she’d just gained a victory.
I rushed back through the crowds of departing students to the head table. Most of the teachers had already left, but the headmaster remained for a conversation with Captain Tanar. I ran so hard and fast, I bumped into the podium, attracting the attention of the two unamused vampires.
“Professor Proust,” I said between panting breaths, “Zarah is—”
“I’m well aware of the situation with Miss Peridot,” replied the headmaster. “However, our hands are tied until your friend makes a complaint or withdraws her invitation for feeding.”
“Why? Did you hear what Juno told me?”
He scratched the side of his face. “I did not.” When I repeated her words, the headmaster pursed his lips. “I will see what I can do, but in the meantime, stay away from the Brothers Striga.”
“Huh?”
He gave me a disapproving look. “Raphael, Nero, and Dante.”
I whirled around. The Stryx Brothers had already left. Micalla remained in her seat with an arm around Zarah and a satisfied smirk on her punchable face. My nostrils flared, and I said through clenched teeth, “How am I supposed to keep away when they’re the ones who approach me?”
Professor Proust raised his brows in an expression that said, ‘work it out for yourself.’
My shoulders slumped. No matter how much I wanted to spit in the girls’ faces and tell them to go fuck themselves, I couldn’t when they held my friend’s life in the balance. I rushed through the dining hall, shoving past people in my haste to catch up with the boys. My plans to befriend Raphael were no longer viable. I had to tell him I wouldn’t be his date.
Someone tripped me, and I fell onto my face with my hands sp
layed out on the ground. Laughter shook my eardrums, but I scrambled to my feet. If I didn’t reach Raphael and negotiate some protection, something would happen to my friend.
I caught up with Kat and Annette further down the hallway. “Have either of you seen Raphael?”
They each turned their heads to the left in a shunning move they’d probably practiced in the mirror.
I grabbed Kat’s arm. “This is serious. Those girls are threatening Zarah.”
Kat yanked her arm out of my grip. “You’re beginning to understand how things work here. Selfish people like you get their friends hurt. That’s why we moved out.”
My mouth gaped open. Why didn’t Kat direct her hate at the girls who were hurting a fellow frumosi?
Annette shook her head and continued walking, and Kat hurried to catch up with her taller friend.
“Well,” I snapped. “Have you seen Raphael or not?”
Neither of them responded, but a hand wrapped around my waist, and the woody scent of cedar and cypress engulfed my senses. “Looking for me?”
“Raph—”
He placed his fingers on my lips. “Shh. Let’s talk where no one can hear you scream.”
I shook my head. Even though he often made references to biting me, he couldn’t do it without my explicit permission. He guided me through the hallways with his hand on the small of my back. Some students we passed made double-takes, but I ignored them. They were probably shocked that one of the Stryx Brothers was walking at my side after what I’d done to Dante. Hopefully to them, it meant the end of my shunning.
Raphael opened a door that led to a stairwell. I stepped through, and he followed after me. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Micalla’s gang.” I shook my head and descended the stairs. “Juno and Pigtails, I think.”
His chuckle mingled into our echoing footsteps. “Pigtails?”
“Um… Kush?” I replied. “The one who always wears her hair in that style.”