by Katie May
And I don’t know why I told him. Maybe this Academy is fucking with my senses. That’s the only logical explanation.
“You didn’t know,” I say point-blank. And then…“Pinky?”
His cheeks turn red, but a lazy smile tips up his lips. He really is handsome. That mischievous smirk he loves to wear makes it seem like he’s telling a constant joke. Only the shadows in his eyes belie his easy-going nature.
“You just seem to...um...like pink.” He scrubs at the back of his neck awkwardly, refusing to meet my gaze burning a hole in his face. I tear my eyes away reluctantly and glance down at my outfit. Only my skirt is pink, though that color is nearly overtaken by the black bats. And, of course, my panties and bra are pink, but Mason hasn’t seen them.
Changing the subject, Mason inquires, “What class do you have first today?”
We step out of the gloomy forest and up the stone steps of the main academic building. My stomach is a tumultuous mixture of nerves as my hand tightens on the rusted railing. My first day of class.
My first day as a monster.
Fuck, I’m nervous. Terrified. It feels like an icy finger is traveling from the nape of my neck to my back.
“Proper ways to dispose of a body,” I recite. “You?”
“Mythological studies,” he replies. “Need to study my origins and all that shit.”
“Wow. Studying shit. I’m sure that’s riveting,” I tease, elbowing him in the stomach. His face twists for a moment before understanding dawns on how his words could be construed. He chuckles, opening the front door for me.
“Did you know that almost all monsters crap like a human?” Mason says conversationally, leading me down a hall. The interior consists of roughly hewn cement blocks splashed with cream paint. The carpeting is a hideous shade of gray sprinkled with green and red flecks. Christmas carpeting.
“You said almost,” I point out as the carpeting ends and white ceramic tiling begins. I work to step over each crack, dancing on the tips of my toes. Don’t want to break my dead mother’s back. Mason watches my antics with a small smirk of amusement.
“Apparently, werewolves don’t shit. Ever.”
That makes me pause, and I spin towards him incredulously.
“What? No way. Werewolves totally shit.”
He presses his lips in a tight line to fight off his impending smile.
“Nope. Apparently, the food they digest goes out a secret hole in their wolf tails.”
I skip back to him—still being careful not to touch any cracks—and whack his arm lightly.
“You’re so full of shit. Ha. Shit.” I giggle at my own joke.
“And fairies? Instead of shit, they just release glimmering pieces of candy.” He casts a conspiratorial look in both directions. “Fairy candy? You heard of it? That’s just fairy shit.”
This time, I pinch his arm. His very muscular arm.
“You’re such an ass. There is no way fairy candy is actually fairy shit. No way.”
“Yes way,” he says, mocking me. “My ex used to—” He breaks off suddenly, picking at the skin on his hands. Why is he acting so weird? Is it because he mentioned his ex? I barely know the guy, and I sure as shit don’t care who he dated in the past.
He glances at me through his fringe of lashes, clears his throat once, before murmuring, “Sorry about that. That was inappropriate.”
If this was a cartoon, I would have a thought bubble above my head with dozens of questions marks.
This just confirms what I already know: guys are weird.
We stop at a door halfway down the hall.
“This is your classroom,” Mason says, fiddling with the collar of his flannel. “You’ll like Ms. Stevens. She’s a vampire, like you, but from a lesser family. I’ll meet you here after class, okay?”
All I can do is nod. Is he wanting to be my friend? Is that what this is about? Does he expect me to give him a blowjob or something? Fuck. I hate peopleing.
Mason smiles tightly before leaning forward and pressing his lips to my forehead. My skin tingles, heat traveling straight to my core. I can’t help but wonder how those lips would feel on my own...or connected to my pussy.
With a whack on my ass—is that how friends behave? should I be ass whacking Cynthia?—Mason pushes me inside the half-filled classroom before sauntering away, hands in his pockets.
“Oh, look. It’s the slut that can’t get a boy without using compulsion,” a sly voice tuts as soon as Mason’s out of hearing range. One glance at her confirms it’s the same girl who threw herself at Vin. Gorgeous red hair, a body to die for, and gills on her neck. “We should just kill her and end all our suffering.”
“Oh, enough,” someone else retorts. It’s the black-haired beauty from the cafeteria. Vin’s sister. I could’ve sworn I left before her…
“Shut your face, harpy,” the red-haired girl snaps.
“I don’t even know what to say to your stereotypical, high school mean girl insult,” she replies snarkily before turning towards me. I prepare myself to be on the sharp end of her verbal knife, but instead, her face softens and confusion once more settles on her features. “I’m Vanessa. And you must be Violet.”
Oh shit, she’s talking to me. Say something normal, Violet. For the love of Dracula, say something fucking normal.
“I gave your brother an orgasm,” I blurt.
There you have it, folks. The reason why I have no friends.
Fucking shit, brain. You had one job to do, and it was not that.
Her lips curl in disgust, and I’m pretty sure her eyes twitch. Gills, a few seats over, scoffs, expression thunderous. One look from Vansssa has her clamping her mouth shut.
“Um...not what I expected, but okay. You can sit next to me, if you want.”
I eye Vanessa warily, instinctively lowering my gaze to the golden ring on her finger. Why would she want me sitting beside her? I’m Dracula’s daughter, and she’s a Van Helsing. Unless…
Unless she plans to murder me.
“I’ll warn you, I’m really hard to kill,” I babble, moving down the aisle to sit in the empty seat beside her. “Like, my nickname is Indestructible.”
“And my nickname is Kill Shot,” Vanessa says with a wry grin. I gulp. “But don’t worry. I’m not going to kill you. Sister or not, he’ll kill me.”
“Who’ll kill you?” I question just as the door opens and a familiar face enters. Technically, two familiar faces.
Based on the hair obscuring half his features and thick glasses, I know I’m looking at Jack. He doesn’t notice me at first, shuffling towards a seat in the far back. When I call his name, hand raised and waving, he stiffens, shoulders rising to his chin.
His piercing eyes lock on me as heat comes to his cheeks. I smile placatingly and pat the empty seat beside me.
“I guess she’s friends with all the losers,” Gills—I really need to figure out her name—drawls. “First Frankie and now Jack.”
Jack tenses at her words, but I continue smiling, gesturing for him to join me. Vanessa watches the exchange with an unreadable expression. But if I had to guess, I’ll say she looks intrigued.
“Jack, come sit by me,” I say, keeping my voice light. The last thing I want to do is scare him away by being overly aggressive. Jack hesitates a moment longer before grabbing his bag and books and moving towards the desk beside mine.
One of the monsters sitting on the opposite side of the aisle extends his foot just as Jack passes. My weird, sort-of friend stumbles, bracing his hand on the two desks surrounding him. His eyes momentarily flash with anger, something dark and unmistakable, but Jack quickly shoves Hux down. He takes a deep, calming breath before righting himself, straightening his sweater and tie combination, and sliding into the seat beside me.
I glare at the asshole smirking indolently. His teal hair and scaly face hints that he might be descended from a sea creature. When he smiles, I notice his teeth are abnormally sharp and sit in a strange circle formation in hi
s mouth.
“What the hell, asshole?” I snap, hands balling into fists. The urge to wipe that smug grin from his face is nearly overwhelming. Maybe I’ll even sit on him until he bleeds and dies.
“You talking to me, princess?” he asks, lips twisting malevolently at the nickname.
“Yes, I’m talking to you.” I jump to my feet, fully prepared to kick some ass. I guess this will help me see what type of friend Vanessa will be, if any. Will she hold my earrings while I kick major reptilian ass or will she join in?
“Violet, it’s okay,” Jack cajoles.
“No, it’s not okay! He was acting like a major asshole!” I throw my glare at Jack who winces, shrinking further into his seat, before leveling it once more on the dick head. “Why are you so mean? Are you compensating for something, fish boy? Maybe a lack of working dick?”
“Hey!” A hairy girl scrambles to her feet. Based on the fur sprouting from her arms and legs and glowing yellow eyes, I label her as some type of werewolf. “That’s my boyfriend you’re talking about, bitch!”
“Oh...now I understand why he’s such an ass. Having to put up with you,” I quip because, yeah, I’m just that good. I have just patted myself on the back when Vanessa lets out a strangled noise and Jack screams my name. I only have a second to brace myself before the wolf girl pounces, claws extended.
Jack leaps to his feet, preparing to throw himself between us, eyes wide with fear. Still, his jaw is set with determination.
But he never has the opportunity, and the werewolf girl never reaches me. The second her claws would’ve connected with my face, she’s shoved to the ground and lands with a thump on her ass.
“Ali! No fighting in my classroom!” a strident voice yells. A tall woman stands where the werewolf once was, hands on her hips. She has a sheet of orange hair curling around her shoulders and violet-tinted eyes. When she snarls, flashing her incandescent glare onto Fish Man, I see a hint of fangs.
Vampire.
She must be the teacher Mason told me about.
“And what is this about, Nep? Are you involved?” she continues.
Fish Man—Nep, apparently—glares at me before smiling sweetly at our teacher.
“No. I’m just a...a bystander.” His lips twist, and our teacher frowns at his reply. Still, what can she say? Call him out on a crime she didn’t see? After a moment, she straightens and turns towards Ali.
“Ali, Headmaster’s office. Now.” She points a manicured finger towards the door, and Ali sputters, face red.
“But...but…” She gestures helplessly towards me, and if I was a lesser being, I would’ve stuck my tongue out at her and flipped her off.
Wait. I’m a monster. I am a lesser being.
My tongue is still out, my finger waving in the air, when she exits the room. I’m a classy bitch, what can I say.
The teacher shuts the door behind Ali and turns to face the class. Her smile is kind, eyes radiating warmth.
“Hello, class. Now, I know for most of you this isn’t your first day. However, we do have a new student, and I'd be remiss if I didn’t introduce myself.” She smiles at me. “My name is Ms. Stevens, and I specialize in the legal side of being a monster. Hiding a body, evading the law, developing legal avenues to retain what you need in the community. Violet, dear, please grab the previous class notes from one of your classmates.”
She turns towards the whiteboard just as Jack places a notebook on my desk. It’s filled with delicate script—swooping curves and straight lines. Jack blushes and ducks his head.
“Thank you,” I mouth, grabbing my own notebook to copy his notes. I’m only halfway through the first page when a crumpled up wad of paper appears in front of me. I stare at it before glancing towards Vanessa—who’s sleeping—and then to Jack. His ears are red, head ducked down to obscure his face...his scar.
After a moment, I open and smooth out the paper.
Jack’s familiar handwriting stares back at me.
Thank you for standing up for me. I never had someone do that for me before.
My heart hurts as I read his words. Nobody ever stood up for him before? Well, if I have my choice, that’ll change. I’ll be the protector, the champion, he never had.
We’re friends, right? I write, my handwriting considerably sloppier than his. At the very least, we’re acquaintances. What’s that dude’s problem anyway?
I wait until Ms. Stevens is turned away before tossing him the paper.
I only have to wait a minute before the paper is in front of me once more.
Some people are just assholes, you know? He’s always hated me. The entire school hates me. I’m kind of a weirdo. I don’t really have a lot of friends.
I chance a glance at his face, hoping to gauge his reaction. His hair still curtains his face, but I can see that his lips are curled down.
Well you have one now. Violet Dracula, at your service.
He unfolds the paper and glances towards me in surprise. I offer him a cheeky smile. A long beat passes as he continues to stare at me, expression inscrutable. Finally, he bends his head down and writes a quick reply.
Are you sure? It’s social suicide.
I smile softly at him.
“I’m sure,” I whisper, reaching across my desk to squeeze his hand.
I’m already a social pariah. If being friends with a sweet boy causes me to become even more of one, then so be it. I can befriend him, understand him, and maybe even talk to Hux again. The more I think about it, the more my resolve straightens, cements itself.
At this school, you need all the friends you can make. The good and the bad. The monsters and the saints.
I chance a glance at Jack out of the corner of my eye only to find his head bent over his notebook as he studiously scribbles the teacher’s lecture.
The question is: which one is he?
Chapter 11
Violet
After a riveting lecture on the networks and connections needed to dispose of a body and evade the cops, Ms. Stevens releases the class.
“Violet, could you stay back here a moment?” she calls from where she now sits behind her desk. I chance a glance at Vanessa and then at Jack. Vanessa is staring at her phone, very pointedly ignoring me. Huh. What an end to a beautiful five minutes of friendship.
Jack meets my gaze and loiters in the doorway. His hand scrubs at his glasses, pushing them further up his nose.
“She’ll be out in a moment,” Ms. Stevens tells Jack, smile still firmly in place. He blushes, ducking his head, but glances at me with a quirked brow. I nod subtly, both pleased and confused by his protective behavior.
When he’s in the hall and the last student shuts the door behind her, Ms. Stevens turns towards me with a bright smile. It’s unnaturally bright, unnaturally happy. She seems like the type of person who would laugh and smile at a funeral. Granted, my father does that too, but the point’s still there. Probably claps when an airplane lands as well.
“I just wanted to see how you were fitting in,” she tells me. “I remember when I was a student...oh gosh. How long ago was that? A few centuries?” She snorts with amusement. “How times have changed…” Shaking her head, she offers me another pearly white smile. She has really good dental care. I wonder who her dentist is and if he is included with the health insurance the Academy provides. I’ll need the best of the best to assure my blood diet doesn’t discolor my teeth.
I rather like my teeth.
And…
I’m distracted again. During my internal ramblings, Ms. Stevens had stopped talking and is now staring at me in concern. Even anxious, she has a damn smile on her face. I didn’t know whether I wanted to be her best friend or punch her.
Or both.
Best friends can punch other best friends, right?
“I’m sorry. I zoned out,” I admit sheepishly.
Her smile turns sympathetic—as if I’d just admitted to dying instead of merely not paying attention. She goes as far as to pat my hand rest
ing on her desk.
“Being a vampire is tough at this school,” she admits. “You deal with a lot of prejudice and bigotry. A lot of people will look down on you, but you just have to remember that you’re stronger.”
I nod my head eagerly, but mentally, I’m thinking about how hungry I already am. Vin’s blood has rejuvenated me. Given me life. Maybe I can find him and beat the shit out of him before sucking him again (snort). Make him beg for another orgasm.
Listen up ladies and gentlemen. Don’t ever, not ever, allow a guy or girl to treat you like Vin did me. You’re not trash, and the minute someone starts treating you like it, carve out his heart and eat it.
This concludes my public service announcement.
Suck dicks. Don’t be one.
“If you ever need anything, come see me. There are only a dozen or so vampires at this school. We want you to feel comfortable, especially being Dracula’s daughter,” she says, eyes burning with excitement. Ah. Now it makes sense.
She doesn’t actually like me, but my dad. Figures. Everyone wants to get on Daddy’s good side. And what better way than taking his clumsy, fuck up of a daughter under your wing?
Spoiler alert: it would be a pretty damn good idea if my father wasn’t big on independent monstery. And no, I’m not making that up. Dad truly believes that to be a good monster, you have to climb to the top using your own fangs—or some other profound saying—and that anyone who helps you deserves an immediate death. His words, not mine. Being a monster isn’t about the connections, but the way you can kill the people in your way.
Or something.
I zone out a lot when he talks.
“I need to get to my next class,” I say, hiking the backpack further up my shoulder.
“What do you have?”
“Um...fight class,” I recall. And that’s literally all it says on my schedule. It doesn’t tell me who we’re fighting or why. Hopefully, I get to punch Vin in his stupid face. Maybe Gills and Fish Boy too.
I wonder if they’re related. Not Gills and Vin—ew, that’s gross even for monsters, for I saw them practically hanging off each other at breakfast—but Gills and Fish Boy.