My sister peeks out from her hidey spot. “BIG YIKES! Dude, you might think the string you’re pulling is a parachute, but it’s actually a backpack. You’re going down in a ball of flames and the ground is gonna hurt when you hit it,” Ranissa says, offering Elon a look of you are doomed sympathy.
Is he for real? I shout to my sister. He can’t be this obtuse.
You love him. Keep repeating it until the urge to stake him fades, she responds, pushing calm between our bond.
I leap out of bed like my ass is on fire, walking a pacing path through the room. My nose hurts from the amount of air I’m sucking in. I’ve raced past offended, crashing into the wall of pissed off. Not only am I something to remember to feed, I’m immature and full of pesky young feels.
He has the audacity to look at me with affronted raised brows and wintery eyes full of questions.
“Elon,” his name snaps from my mouth. I keep Ranissa’s mantra circling through my head, but it only fuels my anger. “I love you. I think.”
His tanned face blanches.
“Damn, all these troublesome pieces of my humanness,” I tsk. “I’ve never been in love.” I air quote. “This thing between us might be a manifestation of my immaturity. Silly little girl crushing on the big evil vampire.” The amount of condescension in my cooing voice is large.
Through our connection, he reels. His hurt stabbing at my heart like a vengeful woman poking pins in a voodoo doll, but dammit, his thoughtlessness stung.
“If my youthful indiscretion is too much for you, perhaps, we need a break before we begin. Maybe check back in twenty years when I’ve ridden the relationship bus a few times. Perhaps a repertoire with other men—” His chest shakes with a possessive warning growl as his fangs lower. I shrug off the shiver seeing the pointy edges creates. “—will build my ship maturity to a level of your pleasing.”
Yes, I’m exhibiting my eighteen-year-old brattiness. There is not a hound from hell who could chase me away from him. He won’t cheat, leave, or replace me, and part of his claim is true, though I hate admitting it. My experience with men is nil. I am young with whimsical bouts of jealousy, petulance, hormones, and well fuck it; I’m a barely adult, big girls don’t cry, novice who stumbled into something even Dr. Ruth would struggle to understand. “Oh and update your slang, old man. No one says broody anymore. Instead, you’re a tool.” Albeit, my tool, but I’m still twisting the dagger to make my point.
Before my first lungful of air after my diatribe, we’re nose-to-nose. He fists my hair, cocking my head to expose my neck. One of my hands grips his forearm and the other lands on his fast-moving chest. His body is rigid steel, muscles tight, prone for attack. Red consumes his irises and he’s every bit infuriated monster.
I should be frightened, but his animal side calls out to the primal part of me. Every cell inside sobs for the puncture of his teeth. The euphoria of the bite. But it’s more. My very female part shouts, I am woman; please me now, you virile creature.
Yeah, my femininity and I need to work on stepping away from the bodice ripper dialogue. Suffice it to say I want to ride him like a real life My Little Pony. Bareback with trailing orgasmic glitter.
But first I must school him on how to lose the archaic mindset. “I’m not your pet to feed, Elon. Or an obligation. Don’t discount me because of my youthful age, and I won’t judge you on your decrepit one.”
He snarls louder, running the tip of his tongue up the column of my neck. Don’t tremble. Don’t shiver. Prove your point, then climb him and grind like you’re shaping the perfect diamond.
Uh, Sis, maybe don’t continue to wave the steak at the hungry lion, Ranissa’s voice warbles through my mind.
“Be my partner. My equal.” The tip of his incisor scrapes my vein; I gulp. “My lover,” I say on a breath. His body shudders as his hips grind his length along my pelvis. “I don’t need a caretaker or another dad. Got it?”
Scrape, scratch, drip. He’s opened my vein, allowing drops of blood to paint my skin, but he doesn’t bite. When my words fade to panting moans, he sweeps the flat of his tongue up, sealing the wound. His licks become kisses up over my jaw, along my cheek, until we’re again nose-to-nose with our mouths a hairsbreadth apart.
“Never talk about test-driving other men again. Forgive me. I disconnected from the mortal coil long ago. I only meant to remind myself of your needs. Nothing matters more. I’ve been selfish and solo for longer than I was human. This mate business is new to me too. But know this, Nicole Nodens, I may not be your father nor do I wish to be on any level, but you are mine to care for. I promise to field these emotions better if you promise to cut me some slack.”
His ardor flash floods through my bloodstream, joining my already taxed restraint. Argument forgotten, I attack his mouth. A low groaning chuckle opens his lips. I use it to trace his fang with my tongue.
Thanks to my newly acquired heightened awareness, I hear the knock on the door. The invite issued from Ranissa and the silent shuffle of feet so quiet no regular ears would pick it up. I smell the hint of fresh cut grass, but not nearly as intense as it was wafting off Elon when we met. My bond with the vampire or the god blood dampens the allure.
“Jaysus, how long they been going at it?” a high feminine Irish voice lilts, and if I were into women, it’d tempt as I’m sure it’s meant to.
“Long enough I think their heat knocked me up,” my sister responds. “Oooh! Donuts,” she cheers.
Only one thing could distract me from Elon. Food.
I slow our kiss. Humming a contented sigh over resolving our argument. The rumble from my mouth matches the grunt from my stomach. Elon chortles, slipping his grip from my hair, his fingers run a goosebump-inducing path down my arm where he loops his fingers with mine. “Let’s get something in your stomach.”
Happy to oblige, I turn, ready to destroy the sweet fried dough in the most unladylike fashion. My gaze bounces over my sister, prepared to zero in on the donuts she mentioned, but they freeze on the stunning, sun-kissed face and long flaming hair of the woman next to her. She’s statuesque with a lithe bird-like body. Small and womanly with an air of, I’m pixie-sized; protect me. Plush raspberry-stained lips, shining want to touch auburn hair, and big innocent pale blue eyes rimmed in crimson.
“Dusty,” Elon greets, tugging my hand to uproot my feet. “This is Nicole. You’ve met Ranissa. Thank you for delivering breakfast.” He turns to me, sensing I might need a little more clarification. “Dusty is my colleague who translated the prophecy.”
“No problem, Boss.” She extends her hand. “It’s nice to finally meet the sisters who slay.”
Chapter Fourteen
Something wicked and foul rips through my sternum. Dusty emits neediness, but it’s a tease. Her way of trapping men and women. But she’s a vampire. It’s vital to her continued existence to feed. A fissure along my spine tightens my muscles, heightening my desire for a weapon. But what she is doesn’t set me off. Nope, what sends me charging and gripping her frail neck between my clenched fingers is the swirl from the air-conditioning carrying the hint of Elon’s mark up my nose.
“Mine,” hisses from my gritted teeth. I don’t know how to kill a vampire, but I’m willing to bet popping her head like a zit might do the trick.
“Nikki.” My sister's hand touches my shoulder. Heat flows from her palm through my shirt, infusing me with a Valium-esque type calm. Soothing lavender swirls around my head, shoving out the red cloud of rage with a plume of light purple mist. Encumbering my ability to smell anything but the soothing floral aroma. It’s like she dropped a blinding blanket of Zen over my head.
This is new.
My muscles soften. A low jazzy tune chases away the roaring ocean pulsing in my ears. I’m no longer hungry, angry, horny…I’m a slumpy gooey mess of don’t give a damn. My hand falls from Dusty’s neck as my Gumby legs give out. Elon catches me before I hit the ground.
“Hhhhhiiiii,” I sigh dreamily, content in his arms. “You’
re so schmexy.” Drunk on peacefulness, I gaze into his iceberg eyes. He sits on the bed, situating me on his lap. I hear movement around me but can’t drag my stare from the smooth edge of his jaw or the tawny blush of his lips.
Dusty stands near extending a plated donut. “Yyyyoooouuuu smell like Elon. I don’t like you,” I drawl, sounding entirely too giddy. “Raniiiiisssssaaa, what did you hit me with? ‘Cause this is way groovy, like far out Woodstock hanging with Snoop Dog, but it’s a killer to my resting bitch face.” To prove it, I angle the syrupy smile glued to my lips her way.
“I don’t know. Elon?” Her worried words drag away a bit of the happy high. She circles in front of me, chewing her thumbnail. Through our connection, she frets, I’m sorry, Nikki. Elon will help me fix this. But when it wears off, you can’t kill the pretty, freakishly tanned Irish woman. Her guilt lessens the joy buzzing around my heart, stinging it like a Murder Hornet.
Her slumped shoulders jerk. As a vision riots through her erasing my euphoria. Mouth formed in a surprised O, LED headlight white glows from her eye sockets. Shattered images flash in her head. Broken and jagged at the edges without cohesion. Because we’re linked, I see what she sees but because it’s not meant for me, they rocket through my brain. Fiery balls of pain mushroom cloud inside my skull with the snap of each picture.
“Ahhhh,” I shout, cradling my head in my hands. Elon’s arms hold me tighter and through the nuclear pain picking off my brain cells, I hear him asking what’s going on. Ranissa’s zoned out, so I call out what I’m seeing. “Chimps… Trees with tiny huts, maybe a zoo. Blood, oh God, so much blood the particles in the air turned the sky red. Death. People, apes. Annihilation of life as we know it.” The slideshow stops. Ranissa crumbles to the ground. Tears stream down my cheeks, blurring my view of Elon.
“Dusty, gather the others and meet us at the sanctuary,” Elon orders. Her mouth pulled in a grim line, she nods, turning on her heel, she vamp speeds out the door. Ranissa stirs from her spot on the floor, rubbing a hand on her head and one on her chest.
She blinks to clear the wetness from her eyes. “What was that and does it have to be so jolting?”
“You’re the recipient of Odin’s foresight ability. Until your brain adjusts, you’ll see fragmented snapshots. I wish we had time to acclimate you to the powers, but the Axis is already sending you visions. Guess yesterday was our chance, but you were both so tired I let you rest. Today the reckoning begins. Gather your things, enough for an extended stay. Halloween is a handful of weeks away and your training begins tonight.”
“Wait. What day is it? We can’t squirrel ourselves in some facility. We have classes.” My fingers massage my forehead. “Ranissa, did your vision thingy try to scoop out your brain with a dull spoon?”
“It’s Sunday. Silver Lake isn’t like other colleges, thus why you’re here. We’ll transfer your studies to online until the beginning of November. And no, the sight doesn’t hurt your sister because she’s meant to receive the visions. You, however, are not and unless you want to turn your brain to soup, I suggest when the slideshow starts you tune out of Ranissa television.” His tone is brash, cold, matter-of-fact, and he’s avoiding eye contact.
Large and take charge Elon invigorates my lady bits but the rest of me isn’t impressed. I don’t like this callous, order-giving Elon, who knows far too much about the things we don’t. Before I can tell him where to shove his demands, he stuffs a donut in my mouth, dumps my books out of my backpack, and zips around the room, filling it with clothes and toiletries. When he finishes with mine, he packs Ranissa’s. If I weren’t irritated and reveling in the divine sweetness of fried dough soaked in maple and dusted with cinnamon and sugar, I’d laugh at his eyes pinched shut, blind search through her underwear drawer.
“I’ll be downstairs. Dress quickly. We’re leaving in ten minutes.” The door clicks behind him. No kiss, no endearing smirk, nothing.
“How rude.” I flick double middle fingers at the exit. Ranissa giggles. I purse my lips, feel the skin between my brows curl, and detour one finger of fuck you in her direction. She laughs harder, slipping on black leggings and a purple tee. I follow her lead, dragging on jeans and a pink V-neck tank. “He totally blew me off. So much for all the soul mate hoopla. Bet it’s Tinkerbell Vampy’s fault. It’s not fair,” I huff, bending to tie my tennis shoes. “You get visions and some kind of emotional whammy and I’m buffed-out Barbie. Guess being the lamb isn’t all that bad.”
A black-and-white checked flannel hits me in the face. When the fabric falls, my glare lands on her. Head poking through a tie-dyed hoodie, she grins. “I can’t read him or her, but I guarantee his douchiness had nothing to do with Dusty and everything to do with obligation and whatever that shit was I saw. Suck it up, Buttercup. We’re like superheroes and you get your very own specimen of sex on legs. Plus, our uncle, so to speak, is Thor. You think he’s a total Hemsworth? ‘Cause if he is, my views on incest might vary.”
She waggles her eyebrows and my hissy fit fades into a fit of stomach hurting laughter. “Sick AF, Sis.” I shake my head. Her thought train spins my curiosity about our new family tree, but I’m sure Thor and all of Odin’s other spawn died off years ago.
Since Elon took our bags, we both stuff our phones in crossbody purses and jog out the door.
Chapter Fifteen
Soft leather cushions my legs and back, and some retro eighties song plays low from the radio. Dusty and Ranissa sit in the back, while I keep my stare trained out the windshield from the passenger seat. From my side eye, I see Elon’s white-knuckle hold on the steering wheel. Thanks to the silence of the Tesla’s engine, the quiet in the car is miserable. With nothing else to occupy my hands, I fish a hair tie out of my bag and wrangle my strands into a messy bun. A low, tortured groan springs up the short hairs on my neck, as Elon’s nose twitches and his posture sits impossibly straighter. I’m hyperaware of his breathing, the stuttering occasional beat of his heart, and his heady spiced scent.
This is my purgatory. All the temptation without the satisfaction. His mercurial mood is giving me whiplash.
Outside the stone fence surrounding campus, the fog lifts, and warm sunshine plays on the autumn leaves. In my side mirror, I watch the image fade into nothing but orange, yellow, and red as though a sprawling college isn’t there. I twist in my seat, unsure what I’m seeing.
“It’s a glamour. Only the chosen can see the campus when they arrive. Fate hand-delivered your invitation. And before you ask, yes, every person attending Silver Lake College is supernatural,” Dusty says.
I twist in my seat. My eyes land on hers and everything about her pisses me off. The need to snipe at her curls my lips up in a snarl but before the rant tying my tongue departs my lips; my sister leans forward blocking my view. “But my classes aren’t Hogwarts worthy. Math, English, science… all normal.”
“Until the big reveal for any who grew up sheltered, the college accommodates with regular old studies. Now you’re woke so your schedules will change to fit your abilities. Though since the entire school revolves around protecting Odin and you are, in essence, he. I’m not sure where your degree will take you.” She leans closer to my sister whispering, “Not to judge, but shouldn’t mates be more mate-y? If this is all the hype, I’ll stick with my random hookups.”
Her accent sandpapers in my ears and I hate how much her observation digs at my chest. While I want nothing more than to climb over the console and force Elon to remember he wants me, I can’t be that girl. Our connection is still strong, his love for me high, and when I pulled up my hair, I thought his grip would snap the wheel but he’s eclipsing it. Oh, and I’m fighting the urge to throw Dusty out the window. The visual of her tiny body bouncing on the highway, ripped to shreds with road rash, keeps my grin maniacal and my breathing steady.
Tired of watching the world whiz by and sick of the silent treatment, I shift to face Elon. “Where are we going and please tell me we’re almost there.”
�
�Elon is a primatologist,” Dusty answers proudly. “He oversees 150 primate nature preserves throughout the United States and over 300 internationally. We’re going to the one located outside Silver Lake.”
“Apes like the ones in Ranissa’s vision?” I ponder, clicking the puzzle pieces in place. Trees, huts, cute little chimpanzees, and capuchins then a red shroud devours it. “Why does a vampire open multiple parks for apes?”
“Oh!” Ranissa shouts. I wiggle, slipping on the seat until I’m cockeyed enough to face her. Eyes saucer wide, she ping-pongs her blues between Dusty and Elon. Gnawing on the side of her index finger, I feel her push for entrance into my head. I respond affirmation with a long blink, opening the door in my mind.
Blood! Her shout stabs a pain behind my eyes. Reading my discomfort, she whispers a mental apology before continuing. Information just dumped in my head like an update for an app. I’ll need to sort it out because Odin’s knowledge hijacking my brain is a lot, but one juicy morsel jumps to the front. Humans and primates are so similar their blood is almost identical. If I were a Berserker wanting to stay off the fleshy tap, I’d sidestep the man in the big yellow hat and snack on Curious George.
Ah man. So instead of eating us, they drain cute little monkeys? Vengeance for primate justice rears up my spine. Before it becomes a kick-ass worthy cause, one word she used glues to my neurons demanding explanation.
Berserker.
Nissa, you called them Berserkers instead of vampires. Care to clarify?
I did? Huh. The word is from Norse mythology, but I can’t put my finger on what it means. Hang on, let me find the cranial search bar. I’d think she was being sarcastic, but her eyes turn glassy and I feel our connection slam shut. While she Googles her brain, I turn back to watching the car devour the lines on the road.
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