They headed through the next door, shuffling through the crowded hallway, as they made their way toward the classroom that Dr. Parker usually used. Rose worried about what she’d find when she reached the classroom.
When they reached the classroom, she stopped in the doorway, scowling at the room. Just like the foyer, the classroom looked as it always had. All of the desks and chairs set upright in even rows. The floor looked spotless, any sign of blood wiped clean. Even the wall looked perfect, despite the fact that she remembered it caving in when Kallias had thrown Theron against it.
“Are you gay?” Riley asked suddenly.
Rose turned toward her. “W-what?” she sputtered.
Riley’s face reddened. She stared at her feet. “S-sorry. I-I just heard the l-last part of what you and Audrey were s-saying, and it was a l-little confusing.”
“We were joking,” Rose laughed. “Audrey is as straight as it gets.”
“And you?” Riley asked quietly, fiddling with her skirt again.
A classmate chose that moment to squeeze between them on his way to his seat. Rose glanced curiously at Riley after he passed. “Uh…why do you ask?”
“No reason,” Riley said quickly. She’d apparently changed her mind about the question. “Just forget I asked. It’s embarrassing. I need to sit down.”
Rose stood there, dumbly, as Riley found a seat on the other side of the classroom. “That was weird,” she muttered under her breath, scratching her head.
Rose took a seat near the back of the classroom. As her other classmates filled the small classroom, she again found herself scanning the room for anything out of place. It seemed impossible that every trace of what happened could’ve been wiped clean. It made her feel as if she had imagined the entire night.
Rose snapped out of her thoughts as the classroom suddenly fell silent. She glanced back at the door that had just opened and realized the reason for the silence. A tall, middle-aged man stepped through the doorway, walking slowly toward the front of the classroom. His pressed black suit fit him perfectly. His face looked young, but his gray hair attested to his age. Rose knew the man well, as did any advanced history student. He was the Dean of the History Department.
He leaned on the teacher’s podium with his hands folded on the wooden surface. His body language seemed far more relaxed than Rose had expected. “Good morning. My name is Dr. Davidson, as I am sure you’re all aware.”
“Is something wrong?” asked a man in the front row.
“Nothing that I know of. I just came to announce that Dr. Parker isn’t here today, so all of her classes have been cancelled,” Dr. Davidson explained. As the class sighed in relief, he laughed, “I can see that you’re all devastated.”
The rest of the class laughed at the sarcastic remark, but Rose didn’t. Rose stared at the professor, studying his expression and his body language, looking for any sign that he knew what had happened to her teacher.
“Have a nice day,” the Dean said as he started toward the door to leave.
Rose grabbed her books and jumped out of her seat, rushing after him as he left. “Dr. Davidson!” she called as she followed him into the hallway.
The professor spun around to look at her, smiling kindly as he recognized her. “Oh, hello, Miss Foster. How was your trip to Greece last week?”
She smiled nervously in return and tightened her grip on the books as the other classmates filed out behind her. “Great,” she said quickly. “I wanted to ask you…um… Do you know why Dr. Parker is out today? I mean, is she okay?”
Dr. Davidson laughed. “I figured that you’d be the only student to actually be disappointed that classes are cancelled. But no, I have no idea. She just didn’t show today. I’m sure she has a good reason, though. She never misses.”
“You didn’t think that maybe you should call the police?” Rose asked.
Dr. Davidson frowned at her. He began to straighten his tie. “Calling the police because a teacher took a sick day is a bit extreme, don’t you think?”
“But you haven’t heard from her, have you?” she argued.
He shrugged, still messing with his tie, as if he were bored with the conversation. “I tried her cell phone. But if she’s at the hospital, it’d be normal for her not to answer. Look, I’m sure she would be grateful to know that she has a student so concerned about her, but you really should relax, Miss Foster.”
“Have you tried calling her husband yet?” Rose continued.
He frowned suspiciously at her. “Is there a reason you’re so worried?”
Rose pursed her lips, realizing that she had to stop talking before she got herself into trouble. “No, I just… I’ve never known of her to miss before.”
Dr. Davidson nodded and placed his hand on her shoulder. “I’m sure she’s fine. One of her kids probably got sick, and work was the last thing on her mind. It’s still early in the day. I’m sure we’ll hear from her soon.”
Rose frowned at his hand on her shoulder, suddenly uneasy. She realized that since Theron’s attacks, she had started to become suspicious of everyone. First, she had felt apprehensive about Owen’s strange behavior, and now, she was worried that the Dean was lying to her. She shook her head at her distrustfulness.
“Yeah. Thanks,” she muttered as she took off toward the door without another glance at the classroom or the foyer that held such terrifying memories.
She didn’t even stop walking until she was halfway across the lawn, and she only stopped then because she heard someone call her name. She turned around to find Owen and Jared sitting on a bench, shaded by a tall tree.
“I thought you had class,” Owen said.
Rose walked over to them. Owen and Jared sat next to each other with a bag of fast food sitting between them. “They cancelled it,” she explained.
“Awesome,” Owen said. “You’re welcome to hang out with us.”
“No, thanks,” Rose said. “I don’t want to interrupt your breakfast date.”
Jared held out the fast food bag, wordlessly offering her a biscuit.
She smiled and shook her head. “I’m not hungry. But thanks, Jared.”
He shrugged and dropped the paper bag on the bench between them.
“Well, what will you do with all of your free time?” Owen asked playfully.
Rose shrugged. “I figured I’d just go to the…”
“Library?” Owen finished for her.
She laughed. “You know me well.”
“You really should reconsider staying with us,” Jared said suddenly, his deep voice catching her off guard. “I highly doubt you even own a gun.”
Rose glanced at him. His dark eyes studied her suspiciously, and something about that set her on edge. “Who says a gun would protect me?”
Jared shrugged. “Guns kill humans.”
Owen elbowed him. “Shut up,” he hissed.
She frowned at Jared, once again feeling that sense of apprehensiveness twisting at her gut. Something about his use of the word human bothered her.
“I have to go,” Rose said nervously. “I’ll see you guys later.”
Owen watched as she walked away, crossing the campus as she headed toward the library. When he was sure she was too far away to hear their conversation, he twisted toward Jared. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“I don’t trust her,” Jared stated, not even looking at him.
“She’s my closest friend. I’d trust her with my life,” Owen told him.
Finally, Jared turned to look at him. “She was attacked by a vampire.”
Owen glanced around to make sure that no one was listening. “I don’t see how that would make you not trust her. She didn’t choose for it to happen.”
“But she survived,” Jared said. “Do you want to explain to me how?”
“I don’t know,” Owen admitted. “Maybe she just got lucky.”
“I doubt it,” Jared muttered.
Owen narrowed his eyes at him. “But as you can see, she’s still human.”
“For now,” Jared said.
Not an Ordinary Human
Rose made it halfway through a mountainous pile of books before she passed out. Her apartment looked like a disaster area. Discarded books scattered the floor, and notebooks full of her notes from those books filled Rose’s lap and the nightstand beside the bed. Lying on her stomach after tiring of sitting up, she slept with her face smashed against the page of the book that she’d been reading before she dozed. Aside from the steady clicking of the clock on the wall, the only sound that filled the room was the sound of her slow, steady breathing.
After Rose left the library, she’d spent the entire night mulling over every vampire myth and fact that she came across, trying to find some pattern to separate fiction from fact. Early in the night, she’d jumped at every sound outside her door, afraid that each sound might’ve been Theron, but as dawn drew closer, her worry had been overtaken by drowsiness, and eventually, she fell asleep.
She awoke suddenly as three short knocks sounded at her door.
Rose scrambled out of bed and watched the door with cold dread. Still hoping that she’d only dreamed the knocks, she stood completely still and waited.
Three short knocks sounded again.
Rose tiptoed quietly over to the kitchen area and pulled open the drawer. She quickly snatched one of the kitchen knives and returned her gaze to the door. She knew it wasn’t Audrey at the door. Audrey had a key. She would have just unlocked the door and come inside. Audrey never knocked, and Rose knew of no one else who would come to her apartment at such a late hour of the night.
She held out hope that it was Kallias coming to check in with her or that it was Owen or Jared checking in with her, rather than the vampire, but still, she stayed far away from the door, determined not to show any signs that she was home, just in case it did happen to be Theron, waiting to murder her.
She considered calling the cops, but she didn’t have the faintest clue of what she could tell them that wouldn’t make her sound insane. Then, there was also the small matter of her phone being lost. So, instead, she just waited.
The knocking suddenly stopped.
Several moments passed as silence filled the room again.
Rose inched back toward her bed, hoping that the person had given up, but before she reached the bed, a loud crash sounded through the room.
The door fell open. The streetlights outside highlighted the silhouette of the man in the doorway, revealing his tall, shadowy figure. Before she could discern for sure who had kicked down her door, she heard his mocking voice. “I tried to be polite, but you wouldn’t answer the door,” Theron said.
“Yes, that’s code for I don’t want you to come inside,” Rose informed him.
“You are being rude,” Theron scolded.
The light finally illuminated his features, allowing her to fully see him for the first time since he’d kicked down her door. He leaned against the doorframe, dressed in a white button-down shirt and black slacks. His short, choppy, brown hair fell around his forehead. His injuries from the previous night were gone.
“My mistake. I forgot what the proper etiquette is for murderers who kick down your door,” Rose said. “Am I supposed to curtsy or shoot you?”
Theron smiled. “You can shoot me, if you want. It won’t kill me.”
“I’d test that theory if I had a gun,” Rose said. “How are you even alive?”
“It takes a lot to kill a vampire,” Theron said nonchalantly.
“You were practically gutted. It takes more than that?” she asked.
Theron rolled his eyes. “You will be dead in just a matter of minutes, and you’re wasting your last words on questions about the nature of vampires?”
Rose shrugged. “I like learning.”
“I like killing,” Theron told her.
She frowned as he stepped into the room. “I didn’t invite you inside.”
Theron approached her slowly. “Yeah, I know. Like I said, you’re rude.”
Rose began to back toward the bed, attempting to keep as much distance as possible between them. She kept the knife hidden behind her back. She stared at the door behind Theron, hoping that she could get to it before he killed her.
“Well, this sucks,” she commented.
“Literally,” Theron chuckled, flashing his fangs at her.
Her pulse spiked at the sight of those sharp, inhuman teeth. “Oh, how clever. I’m sure you’re the first vampire to make that joke,” she said sarcastically.
His dark eyes narrowed as he took slow, measured steps toward her, backing her into the wall. “I don’t usually kill the humans that appeal to me, not immediately, anyway. I usually keep them around so that I can feed from them or play with them. But you—well, I think you are one human I will like better dead.”
Rose swallowed in fear as she realized that he had her cornered between the bed and the wall. “Eww. You like dead people? Necrophilia’s disgusting.”
Theron growled and snatched her off the ground by her throat. “I am so sick of your little jokes. I should just snap your neck and be done with you,” he snarled as the color faded from her face. He tossed her easily onto the bed, and added, “But that would be a much too easy death for you, and it would ruin my fun.”
Gasping for breath, Rose scrambled off of the bed and made a run for the door, but she barely made it to her feet before Theron grabbed her again. His arms wrapped around her waist, and he pulled her back to the bed from behind.
She cringed as she felt his breath on her ear.
“This will be much less painful for you if you stop fighting,” he growled.
Rose continued to flail and fight. “Let go of me, you disgusting person!”
Theron tossed her back onto the bed. “I’m not a person. I’m a monster.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Rose saw the knife that she’d dropped while Theron was choking her. Only a few feet from her, it set between the two pillows, the blade gleaming against the headboard. With her options of surviving quickly dwindling, Rose lunged for it as fast as she could, but before she could even reach it, the knife was gone. She looked up at Theron who stood over her and saw the knife in his hand. Her eyes widened as she realized how fast he’d moved.
“Humans are such slow creatures,” Theron said as he tossed the knife aside, the metal clanging as it skidded across the floor and into the kitchen.
Rose attempted to run again, but Theron quickly shoved her down. This time, he climbed on top of her to hold her still. Rose panicked the moment she felt the pressure of his weight on top of her. She shoved and kicked him with all of her might, but nothing moved him. She felt helpless and doomed.
Theron smiled. “You are terrified, aren’t you? I smell your adrenaline.”
The anger and revulsion boiled inside of her. “Get off of me! Now!”
Theron placed his hand over her mouth to silence her. “No.”
His dark eyes fell to her neck for a moment, and before she could anticipate his movement, he sank his fangs into her neck. The pain caused by the fangs piercing her skin lasted only for a moment, and then a new, disturbing sensation began to build. The strange euphoric sensation was so distracting that she couldn’t seem to force her mind to fight as she felt his hands on her. But the sound of her clothes tearing as Theron ripped open her shirt and pants somehow woke her out of the trance. Her eyes snapped open as she realized what was happening and what Theron planned to do. An intense, powerful wave of terror and anger snapped inside of her, and suddenly, something felt very different.
“Get off of me. Now,” Rose said as Theron tried to pull her pants down. Her voice sounded darker and more powerful than a human voice should have.
The room seemed to quake, the framed paintings rattling against the wall.
Suddenly, Theron was ripped from her and flung across the room by an unseen force. Rose cried as pain tore through her neck, and then, before she knew what had caused the pain, she heard the crash of The
ron hitting the wall. Rose didn’t waste any time trying to figure out what had happened. She scrambled from the bed and ran, snatching her backpack off the floor on her way to the door.
—
“I know that you’re in here. I smell you,” Kallias said.
Dark and dusty, the small house appeared to be abandoned. Boards covered the windows, and the rooms were mostly bare. A tattered mattress lay in the center of the beige, carpeted floor. The air felt almost chilly with no electricity running through the home, and the entire house smelled of dust, mildew, human blood, and vampires, one of those vampires being Theron himself.
“Are you stalking me?” Sofia asked as she emerged from an empty closet.
Kallias turned toward her, narrowing his eyes at her. “I don’t know your scent well enough to stalk you. I didn’t even realize it was you that I smelled.”
“Then, who are you stalking?” Sofia asked.
“Theron,” Kallias answered. “But you already know that.”
Sofia shook her head, giving him an innocent look. “No, I told you. I…”
“I don’t have time for your bullshit, Sofia,” Kallias interrupted. “I smell his scent all over this place, including that bed. He’s obviously been staying here.”
“If you recognize his scent that easily,” Sofia said, her lips curving into a surprised smile, “then, that must mean that you’ve tasted his blood.”
His lip curled in disgust. “Not by choice.”
“Theron’s not here,” Sofia said honestly.
Kallias nodded impatiently. “Yes, I can see that. So, where is he?”
She shrugged. “I can’t answer that. I don’t know where he is.”
“Right,” he said. “Then, I suppose I will wait here until he returns.”
“I can think of a few ways to pass the time while we wait,” Sofia flirted.
“Is that so?” Kallias asked, baiting her toward him. “I can, too.”
Sofia sauntered over to him, her heels sinking into the old carpet with each step. She stopped directly in front of him, her perfect form molding against his. She tucked her black hair behind her ears as she looked up into his eyes. “I bet you can,” she murmured seductively. “Why don’t you tell me what you want?”
The Stone of the Eklektos Page 21