A Year of Love

by Anthology

  “I-I was just getting a shower.”

  Several moments pass as neither of us speak, and I feel color deepening on my face. Something about him gives me the shivers. I can’t decide if they’re good or bad.

  He gives me a half-smile. “Forgive me for scaring you.” His hand indicates my damp hair. “Don’t make it a habit though. It’s not safe after midnight.”

  You think? I recall the maybe-laugh and maybe-shadow in the bathroom then wonder if it was him. Impossible. The community bathroom is two floors below, and there’s no way he had time to get up here.

  “Like Samantha Greene?” I ask.

  “Exactly.”

  So, it isn’t just a ghost story. She really did disappear.

  “Have other people disappeared from Crystal Lake?”

  He shrugs noncommittally. “Students come and they go.”

  I lick my lips, my curiosity winning over my anxiety as I repeat my earlier question. “What are you doing on this floor?”

  He touches the curve of my cheek, a brief caress, and I freeze, a deer in the headlights.

  “Academy business, my dear. No more late showers, yes?” He delivers the words with a silkiness that makes my stomach twist with something hot and sweet.

  I haven’t been here long enough to figure him out. Even though the female students gush over him, he never flirts with them. In fact, he brushes them off rather rudely when they ask to grab his coffee or clean his room—and he touched me, so is he being flirty, or am I imagining things?

  The truth is, I wonder if I imagine a lot of things. Like Rune trying to hypnotize me. Was that real? What about the night I thought I saw a giant wolf through the trees? Or the time I swore Professor Wells walked out of his office and smiled at me—with sharp canines.

  No. None of this is real. It’s panic disorder or severe anxiety. I’m grateful to be away from my aunt and uncle, and you’d think I’d be over the moon, but my head is so muddled that I can’t seem to make sense of anything. Maybe it’s PTSD. Maybe I’m imagining all of this and I’m really in a padded room.

  God. I miss Benny. I met him on a walk through my neighborhood and we carried on a secret romance.

  “Good night,” Professor Wells says and moves off the wall in a smooth, lethal way that hints that he might have some tiger in him.

  “Not strange at all,” I mutter as I reach my door, unlock it, and dash inside. I double, then triple-check the deadbolt as I wilt against the wood.

  My roommate, Tera-Kate, isn’t in her bed. A tall, narrow-eyed Texas beauty, she’s part of the popular crowd. My first day in the cafeteria, I asked if I could sit with her, and she raked her eyes over me said, No, and don’t ask again.

  My train of thought stops when I see a red envelope on my bed. I dash to it, nearly stumbling in my relief. Benny! We aren’t allowed cell phones or internet here. This school forces you to do everything the hard way: letter writing to keep in touch with friends and family, books instead of the internet for your studies. My breath catches as tears threaten. I miss his arms around me, his soothing voice, his hazel eyes. In the beginning of my stay here, I wrote upbeat letters to him—I love you and I’ll see you soon—but when he never wrote back, my words turned bitter. This place is driving me crazy. Why are you ignoring me? What did I do? Please write back!

  With trembling fingers, I rip open the top, and a piece of heavy, black parchment paper falls to the bed. A lump of sharp disappointment rises in my throat. This isn’t from Benny.

  Foreboding tingles within me, and the paper trembles in my hand.

  I read the words written in beautiful calligraphy, the red ink glinting in the light.

  Everly Marissa Anderson,

  We will come for you on the Ides of March.

  I rub the parchment between my fingers.

  I know what the Ides of March is; it’s a warning, just like Julius Caesar received from the soothsayer before he was stabbed to death in the Roman Senate by sixty of his “friends.”

  Several moments tick by as a cold gust of wind blows into the room from the cracks around the window next to my bed. I shiver and stare out at the dark landscape, searching for answers. I’m just Everly, father unknown, mother deceased. Friendless.

  I can’t deny the dark intent I feel as I touch the letter. It’s an intuition, an inkling that this is very, very bad. Who is coming for me?

  Outside my dorm window, my eyes snag on Professor Wells as he saunters out of the entrance and takes the stone path to the teachers’ quarters. His strides are long and confident, his body undeterred by the razor-like wind that whips in from the lake.

  Did he come inside my room? How? He has no key. No, he may have strange eyes, but it wasn’t him.

  The letter flutters to the floor as I shove my books aside and check the calendar on my desk.

  March 15 is only five days away.

  Dragons

  Everly

  Three days later, after much plotting and being more devious than I’ve ever been in my life, I’m in the back of the library with my head bent over a book when Tera-Kate appears, a mulish expression on her face. Dressed in the Academy black and red plaid skirt, a white button-up shirt, knee socks, and oxfords, she manages to look chic. Her hair is arranged in bouncy waves that tumble down her back, makeup on point.

  I glance down at my own overly long skirt, my shirt that’s too baggy, and my shoes that pinch my feet. My brown hair is demure, braided at the crown as it wraps around my head.

  I push up my glasses. “Any news?”

  She gives me a scathing look. “You’re blackmailing me to get you a meeting with the Dragons. Of course I arranged it. Bitch.”

  “Right back at ya.” I give her a tight smile. I don’t care for her, but I also wish I didn’t have to use her. Unfortunately, I can’t approach the Dragons of Crystal Lake without a voucher. In other words, someone who knows them has to say you’re good at paying back debts. “If you didn’t want me to know, you shouldn’t have left your vodka collection out for me to see.”

  She glares at me. “FYI, I tossed the bottles. It would be your word against mine.”

  “I don’t think The Hole is very warm this time of year. I hear the food is bread and water and you have to pee in a pot.”

  She puts her hands on her hips and looks away for several moments, then her eyes lock on mine. I see pity there. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, but no one who asks them for help ever comes out on the good side. You have to pay them back.”

  Tension zips down my spine. “Let me worry about that.”

  She raises her arms in exasperation. “Remember Henrietta?”

  Henrietta lives across the hall from us and called on the Dragons to help deal with an ex. They took care of him. He left school on a stretcher. No one saw what happened, but apparently, he had a skiing ‘accident’.

  “How is she indebted?”

  Tera-Kate sighs. “She’s just weird now, all quiet and mopey. Her boyfriend was her mate and now he’s gone. Whatever. Look—I don’t know why I’m warning you, but you seem kinda dazed most of the time, and I get that your parents didn’t explain things well or you had an unconventional upbringing. Plus, you’re going through some changes—although God knows you should have bloomed by now—so I’ll cut you some slack for being a devious bitch. Honestly? I’m shocked they even let you in this school—”

  “Bloomed? What do you mean?” I frown.

  Her tongue darts out to lick her lips, then she drops my gaze and glances down at her clenched hands. She opens her mouth to say something but stops.

  “Tera-Kate?”

  “I can’t tell you—can’t tell people who don’t know.”

  “I know what bloomed means. It’s like a flower, yes?” A huff comes from me as I spread my hands apart and indicate a flower opening. “I am a woman, Tera-Kate. Older than you.”

  “But…are you the kind of woman I am? I’m not so sure. Everyone here…we have a clan. You don’t fit in.” Her lips
compress as she seems to search for the right words. “You need to eat more. Get out and meet people. Get your head straight, then maybe…” She swallows, her eyes darting around the library. “Anyway. They’ll meet you at midnight, in the woods.”

  “Where?”

  She gives me a once-over. “You’ll figure it out. Be presentable. They only entertain popular students. Don’t expect me to help you anymore. Also, he said don’t be late.”

  “Who?” I ask quickly, curious about who they are, but she’s already flouncing away, garnering several lingering glances from guys at the table across from me.

  A long exhale leaves my chest. The identities of these guys are secret, which is concerning.

  What if it’s Rune and his crew?

  What if it’s one of the other gangs?

  Obviously, it’s a group of badasses…but which one?

  The Woods

  Everly

  At precisely 11:45 PM, I exit the dorm, sneaking past the security guard as he scrolls on his phone. Someone has a freaking phone. Hello, it’s not me.

  I step out to a cold wind and tug my coat around me. A weak lantern-style light emits a yellow glow and I squint into the darkness, pointing my snow boots in the direction of Duncan Hall, the furthermost building that sits adjacent to the forest.

  A silver motorcycle growls down the winding road, heading to my dorm, headlights flashing off the mountains. When he comes to a stop at the end of the sidewalk I’m on, I pause. His face is obscured by a sleek black helmet.

  Long-legged and dressed from head to toe in black, he places both feet on the ground and lets the motor idle.

  I look over my shoulder. With the bitter temperatures and late hour, there’s no one around. It sucks that my dorm is situated near the cliffs, with only the library between it and the rest of campus. And the library is closed.

  He raises a gloved hand and motions for me to come to him.

  I shake my head.

  He unlatches the helmet with gloved hands, his fingers nimble and quick as if he’s done it a million times. He eases the helmet up, and I inwardly groan. Bodhi. He tugs a pack of cigarettes from his leather jacket and lights one, takes a long drag, and considers me. He rakes his long hair out of his way and stares at me, smirking at my braided hair. “I’m looking for Everly. You her?”

  “Who wants to know?”

  “Whatever. I tried. I don’t have time for this. Tell Tera-Kate she can’t send anyone else.” He reaches for his helmet, and I dash over to him, tugging on his leather jacket.

  “Wait! You’re part of the Dragons?”

  He lifts a derisive eyebrow. “Yep. Now, get your ass on the back or walk away.”

  “Scoot up,” I mutter.

  He eases up to give me room. “Welcome aboard the love machine, baby.”

  Douche.

  We take off and fly past Duncan Hall then hit a trail that goes into the woods. My teeth chatter as I tighten my hold around his waist. He guns the motorcycle as we jump a hill and catch air. I scream as he laughs. Death feels certain as we land on the snow and continue through the forest, weaving crazily between trees and bushes.

  Finally, he spins in front of a rectangular, dilapidated barn and stops. A wooden door is cracked, a small light coming from within.

  He puts down the stand, eases off, and marches away.

  “Thanks for the ride, jerk!” I snap at his back.

  He flips me off over his shoulder as he walks inside the barn.

  Taking a deep breath for courage, I open the door and step in. It’s warm, too warm, and I shrug off my coat and drape it over my arm. My face feels flushed, and I realize I’m sweating. Perfect. Feverish—again.

  I hear male laughter upstairs, and a tingle zips up my spine at the scent in the air, rich and masculine, soothing. I look around, taking in the jackets by the door, the boots lined up on a shelf. This is where they live. Must be nice to not have to reside in the dorms.

  I take the staircase and reach a loft, big and spacious, the area cut up into smaller rooms and a den, which is where they are.

  Sitting on a couch, Bodhi looks over his shoulder and nudges Rune. “She’s here.”

  Rune doesn’t turn around, and I assume he’s glued to the book in his hands. “Come in so I can see you,” he says absently.

  I walk forward and end up in middle of the room.

  He glances up and starts. “You.”

  “Me.” I lick my lips nervously, feigning like I don’t recall the planetarium. “We have a class together. I’m Everly.”

  Bodhi waves. “And you know me. We have swim together.”

  “Yes.”

  Besides the overpowering smell of them, my mouth waters at something coppery in the air. I glance around, and sitting on a wooden chair to my left is Evan, his face scrunched as he twists his body around to stitch a wound on his right forearm. Blood drips on the floor, and my eyes follow it. I inhale sharply and move toward him without thinking.

  “What happened?” I ask as I bend down to inspect it.

  He growls at my proximity, black eyes glinting at me, a snarl on his face.

  I back away with my hands up. “Sorry. I just want to help.”

  I indicate the needle, the one he’s having a hard time managing since his wound is on the underside of his arm. “Let me?”

  I expect him to snap, but he only frowns. “Why?”

  “I have a steady hand and small hands. I can make quick work of it.” I give him a half-smile. “I’ve tended to my own wounds for years. I’ll be a great doctor someday.”

  He indicates an alcohol wipe from the kit next to him to clean my hands then thrusts the needle my way. I press his skin together and make quick work of it, tying it off at the end. A smear of blood remains on his forearm, and I stare at it, wondering—

  I shake myself mentally, grab a thick bandage from the first aid kit we’re using, and apply it carefully. It takes all of five minutes, and my hands are shaking as I feel the gazes of Bodhi and Rune on me.

  I lean back on my heels, feeling off kilter. I push up to standing and swallow.

  “Why are you here?” Rune bites out.

  “I think someone is trying to kill me.” I pull the letter from my coat and lay it on the coffee table. “Someone sent me this.”

  Rune picks it up off the coffee table, his granite face expressionless as he reads it. He passes it over to Bodhi.

  The air in the room grows thin, and I sway on my feet. I forgot to eat dinner. I meant to, I did, but worry and anxiety have ruined my appetite. I cling to the side of their fireplace mantle then lower myself to sit on the brick hearth. My heart flies, so fast, so fast, and I hear them talking to each other, but it feels far away. Can your heart stop from beating too fast? I lick my lips, my skin prickling with fire. I unwrap my scarf, and when that isn’t enough, I take my boots off and unroll my socks.

  I reach over, grab the leftover strips of bloody gauze from Evan’s wound, and stick them in my mouth. No! I tell myself, mentally gagging, while the other side of me, the primitive side, the stronger side, screams, Yes!

  Tension zips through the room, something sharp and dangerous, and while I notice it, I can’t seem to care what it’s about.

  After I finish the gauze, it falls from my hand, and I gaze hungrily at Evan’s wrapped wound. I lunge and someone stops me, their arms tight around my waist. They use that power-voice on me, but I can’t stop wanting to drink him. I think I’m dying.

  “You’re not dying,” Rune growls.

  An electric arc of fire buzzes between us, and my breath quickens at his scent. Oh, how I want that! Heat pools in my body and I reach for him as hands, many of them, move me to the rug on the floor. Someone pulls my shirt off, then my pants. They open my mouth and check my teeth. Another person peels down my panties to study my hips. They shout in excitement.

  “She’s dragon-marked” someone yells.

  “Do something,” I rasp out, a vicious pain rippling into my stomach. I curl i
nto a ball and wail.

  I hear things like ‘half-breed’ and ‘Omega’ and ‘vampire’ and ‘what the fuck’.

  Rune curses and I feel his anger. His rage singes my skin and smoke comes from his nostrils.

  They argue around me, their voices growing louder and louder.

  I cry. I beg. I want.

  A body lies on the floor next to me and pulls me into his arms, holding me rather awkwardly at a distance. He’s warm and sweet, luscious…

  He holds his wrist over my mouth, and I catch his shaved head, the sharp cheekbones. Evan.

  I bite into his skin, but nothing happens.

  What am I doing?

  I don’t have fangs! I’m not a vampire. I’m just not.

  “Drink,” comes Rune’s power-voice.

  I realize they’ve cut Evan’s wrist, and my mouth latches on and takes. And takes. Pleasure slides over me and I groan, my legs scissoring as another desire rises.

  “I can’t smell her,” Rune says. “She still feels human—except for the blood sucking. Fuck, I hate vampires.”

  I swallow down more blood, my teeth aching to pierce Evan’s skin.

  “She belongs to the Reds. They sent her the letter. We need to hand her over,” Rune says.

  No! reverberates in my head. I don’t belong to the Reds. I belong to me!

  “We have a claim with that birthmark,” Bodhi murmurs. “She’s not bloomed, but she might later.”

  “I want no part of a half-breed, especially a vampire,” Rune says scathingly. “They murdered my family. Daniel can have her. We’re not here to get involved in a clan war.”

  “Daniel sent this to summon her…” Bodhi murmurs. “He must have been watching her or had a hint of what she was.”

  Daniel? Daniel? The football guy? He’s in all my classes. Tall, blonde, sexy as fuck, with a come-to-me-baby smile. He’s a freaking vampire? And he wants me to be one too? Because I’m not one, I’m not. I take more blood, rapture filling me. Okay, something is definitely up with this blood thing, but…

  Their voices fade as some instinct pushes me to lick Evan’s cut closed, then I shut my eyes and rest against his chest. I whisper a Thank you. I tell him I didn’t stitch his wound for the blood, I swear, that it just happened, and he isn’t all that terrifying. Then I explain how I haven’t slept well in ages and if I could just rest my eyes…