“Going on the tally,” he murmured before pushing his own text under his head and closing his eyes.
Professor Abbot went over the syllabus for about an hour and a half, and every moment I grew more fascinated. By the time she finished, I had a thousand questions, but she rushed out of the room in her dark heels. The chapters in our textbook were everything from “Common Mandurugos” and “Flesh Eating and Theories of Divergent Species.”
Mitch gave me the side-eye. “You look like you’re having a nerdgasm.”
“Go away.”
To my immense relief, he climbed out of his chair before trudging out of the room. That relief was immediately crushed when Mitch and several of the other Elites were in my next three classes. Advanced Anatomy turned out to be a class studying the anatomy of a myriad of supernatural creatures, some of which we’d be required to dissect. Government class was the study of the political structures of supernatural creatures, and the current laws and regulations as they pertained to the supernatural world. I was indeed having a complete all-day nerdgasm that was squashed every single time Mitch fell into a chair next to mine and passed out on his desk. My heart sank each time the bell rang, and I realized that again, there wasn’t a single member of the Bad Boys Club in any of my classes.
“Was it all you thought it would be?”
I turned as I filed out of my Government classroom with the rest of the students to find Justin waiting just outside.
I winced and leaned against the wall next to him. “The classes seem amazing, but I’m guessing Sebastian has blackmailed Mitch to babysit me at school as well as orientation. Your cousin has insisted on sitting with me in every single class—and no one else will get near me. What does Sebastian think I’m going to do, skip out on all my classes?”
Justin flinched. “That would be a very Sebastian thing to do. He’s an asshole. I thought Mitch sat with you in World History because he has no friends aside from me, and he hates everyone I sit with. He usually just sits alone.”
Justin offered to hold my textbook, and on the way to our lockers, I asked, “He has no friends? Doesn’t he hang out with your friends?”
“When he wants to. He does and says whatever he wants at Blackburn, but he hates everyone, and they hate him back.”
That was sad in a self-imposed way. My twinge of sympathy was quickly washed away by the memory of Mitch threatening to kick my sweet dog. If people hated Mitch Holter, it was with good reason.
“So, all of my classes sound normal but are really supernatural, and I’ve been trying to figure out what calculus is?” I asked as I put my World History text in my locker.
“We use skulls as calculators,” Justin said, sounding completely serious.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Oh, really.”
“And eyeballs as slide rulers.”
“You think you’re so funny, Justin Roberts. I think I liked you better when I didn’t think you had a sense of humor.”
He quirked an eyebrow at me and leaned in. “That sounds like you’re saying that you were using me for my … body.” I could hear the teasing in his tone, but I couldn’t help but think about the fact that I was sort of using him for a year. It was a complicated situation, but I was drinking his blood, and he’d thought that our encounters were more meaningful than I had. At the root of it all, it had been a lack of communication, but I couldn’t help but wonder if he did feel a little used.
I wasn’t drinking his blood anymore, and I clearly still loved him. We just had so much to work out between us, so many misunderstandings and assumptions, mostly on my side.
“You look really serious all of a sudden,” he said as he offered me his hand.
“It’s nothing … look who’s still following me.” I nodded to Mitch, who was again heading our way, and then I sighed. “There’s no way I’m taking him with me to sit with the scholarship kids. He’d tear them apart, and my spot in their group is already so fragile.” I would not let Sebastian Holter have this much control over me, but I didn’t see any way to stop it either. My chest felt tight. “This sucks.”
Justin’s brows lifted. “You could just eat lunch with my friends.”
I tried to smile at him, even though disappointment was gripping me and making my eyes hot. It was stupid, but I had wanted to have my own friends and my own place at this academy.
Cafeteria was too small a word for the space Justin led me to. It was pretty much a restaurant with a deluxe salad bar, made-to-order counter, and grab-and-go station. We took a table adjacent to Justin’s group of friends, and Char waved at me from where she was sitting next to fifth-floor Amber and a couple of other girls. Char lifted her tray and called, “Want me to come sit with you?”
I knew that she was trying to mend the broken fence between us. Justin might hold Char responsible for outing our relationship and all the problems that happened because of it, but I wasn’t mad at her. Yet, I used to feel a bubbling excitement every time I saw her freckled face, and now I just felt a twinge of regret.
Even though rejecting her offer made me feel a little guilty, I waved and said, “No worries.”
I could have imagined it, but I swore that relief passed over her features for a fraction of a second, before a sweet smile spread on her lips and she blew me a kiss.
Mark slipped into our table and set down a soda with condensation dripping down its sides. He didn’t look any bit less of a rock star in his school slacks and button-up shirt. He and a couple of other guys wore letterman jackets, even though it was far from jacket weather, and I was pretty sure that there was nothing resembling an official sports team at this school. He made two guns with his fingers and aimed them at Justin and me. “Hey, my favorite power couple. I’m looking for ten votes in my bid to enter the Senior Hunt, and it would be helpful to get two influencer votes.”
Every time someone mentioned the Senior Hunt, my stomach writhed with nerves. And Char was right. That was pretty much all anyone around me had been talking about since today started.
“I’m not sure how much of an influencer I am; this is my first day here,” I said with my burger halfway to my mouth. “When is the hunt, anyway?”
“It’s a week from this Friday, and you’ve got New Girl Elite status. That’s serious social clout.” Mark scooped up his long hair and pulled it back before letting his perfect locks slip through his fingers in a way that seemed a little practiced. The guy had to be using some sort of turbo conditioner, and I was seriously getting jealous.
I was about to tell Mark that I wasn’t an Elite when Mitch fell into the seat across from me.
“Fuck off. Their votes are already taken,” Mitch said as he reached across the table and grabbed a fry off my plate. “Bark up another tree, Mark Yates.”
“Gotcha, friend,” Mark went to clap Mitch on the back but pulled up short when Mitch glared daggers at the grinning Elite. Instead, Mark ran a hand through his long locks and shot a smile at Justin and me. He peeled out of the chair and hurried over to another table, leaving his soda behind.
“Mitch …” I growled the word. There was honestly nothing that I could say that I hadn’t said in the last three classes that we had together. So, I grabbed up my cheeseburger and muttered, “How about you go away.”
“Just pretend that I’m not here.” In stark contrast to Mitch’s words, he grabbed another French fry off my plate and popped it in his mouth.
“Mitch, man, you have to cut this out,” Justin said, his voice weary. “How about if I’m with January, you consider it your break from guard duty.”
“Um, no.” I held up my hands. “How about I tell Sebastian you’re a fantastic stalker, and then you leave me alone forever?”
Mitch reached over and grabbed a piece of bacon that had fallen off my burger. “No can do, Dirtbag.”
“How about you stop calling her that?” Justin said as he grabbed the bacon piece back and ate it. His tone was more conversational than anything, but there was definitely an underlying ten
sion.
“You’d rather me call her salty bitch?” Mitch scooped up another French fry.
I made a wall around my plate with one of my arms. “I’d rather you forget I exist.”
“Me too,” Mitch sighed as he reached over my wall. “Me too.”
I brought down my other arm on his hand, trapping his wrist between my arms. “Mitch, there is a kitchen full of food right behind you. This is mine.”
Mitch smirked. “Everyone around us thinks I’m going to punch you for touching me. Justin is about to jump across the table.”
“Only if you make a move.” Justin had one hand on the table, and he looked like he was ready to lunge between us.
I glanced around, noticing that everyone in our group had fallen silent, and they were all staring at us while I held Mitch’s arm between mine. No one looked away when I caught them staring either. Char’s expression was locked in horror like she was about to watch me die and could do nothing about it.
“Mitch,” I said slowly, “I don’t know where your hands have been, and I don’t want them on my food.” Maybe I was being stupid by continually asserting my boundaries with someone as volatile as Mitch, but damn it, I was going to anyway.
“I just washed my hands. You want to smell my fingers for soap, Dirtbag?” Mitch smirked and splayed his fingers. “Do you even know what soap smells like?”
I narrowed my eyes at the guy. “Are you going to slap me if I smell your hand?”
“Maybe.” He lifted his dark brows in a challenge.
I knew sniffing his hand was stupid. We were somehow in a pissing contest over my lunch, and everyone here was waiting for Mitch to attack me. He wasn’t going to let me tell him what to do in front of most of the senior class. But I also knew that I couldn’t just give Mitch free reign to my plate, or he’d be walking all over me from now on. He had to make a concession, and it seemed that concession was allowing me to sniff his hand.
Feeling totally ridiculous, I leaned over and smelled Mitch’s fingers. They actually did smell soapy. As soon as I released his wrist, he lifted one finger and bopped me on the nose.
Justin lunged for Mitch, shoving him back into his seat. There was a loud bang as Mitch’s huge body hit the bench, but Mitch only started laughing, pointed up into Justin’s face, and laughed all the harder. “You’re too fucking easy, Jr.”
“Don’t fuck with me to get to him,” I said as I handed over a couple of my fries.
“Nope, I’m perfectly capable of fucking with you both at the same time, and I don’t know where your hands have been, hobo.” He took another fallen bacon strip from my plate.
“Oh, really?” I patted my fries and burger. After touching my food, I felt pretty stupid that we were working out territorial disputes over my lunch. The school bully was being forced to babysit me, and clearly, he was going to make me pay for it.
I shoved the plate across the table. “I’m full.”
“You really are salty, Dirtbag.”
“Only to people who deserve it, Mitch.”
He flipped over the top bun on my burger, grabbed a strip of bacon, and shoved the whole thing in his mouth. “I actually could give a fuck if your hands are dirty, more flavor that way.”
I stood, but Justin stayed at the table. He was wearing an expression that I knew all too well. It was a look that I’d labeled Justin 2.0 or asshole Justin. It was the mask he put on to keep everyone from getting close.
“You go on ahead, I’ll catch up to you later,” he said, not looking up. “My cousin and I need to talk for a minute.”
No part of me wanted to be around Justin while he was like this, and I definitely wasn’t sticking around to be near Mitch. Instead, I searched through the groups in the cafeteria and out in the courtyard for familiar faces, but I couldn’t find a single member of the BBC anywhere.
I ended up heading to Literature, finding an empty classroom. Five minutes later, Mitch entered with several other students, scanned the desks, and walked straight over to me.
“Is there something I can say to your brother tonight that will free us from this?” I muttered as Mitch, once more, plopped down beside me and laid his head on the desk.
“You could kill him,” Mitch suggested, unhelpfully. “After a couple more days of this, I’ll probably offer to help you.”
I wasn’t quite considering homicide yet, but after a couple more days of being attached at the hip with Mitch Holter, I might very well be primed for murder.
CHAPTER NINE
For the third day in a row, Sebastian waited for me in the back seat of his car. His jaw was clenched, making his angular features even more prominent. I slipped in beside him and said nothing as the chauffeur drove us down the long driveway that led through the front gate.
“Can you please call off Mitch?”
“We’re about to be in a car wreck,” Sebastian said, not looking up from his device. “Have you ever heard of vampire scions?”
“Wait...” My heart lodged up into my throat, and I could barely speak past the panic. “What did you say about a car wreck?”
“Vampire scions are humans bound by blood to the will of vampires. Scions are nearly immortal and have unnatural strength and speed, and several of them are coming to kill you.” Sebastian lifted a jacket from the ground and handed it over. “Put this on and zip it up.”
“A jacket?” My movements felt sluggish as I took the offered coat like I was moving through tar instead of air. The jacket weighed more than my backpack when it was full of textbooks.
“Put it on,” he growled as he stowed his phone. “Zip it up. And snap on the helmet in the hood.”
I maneuvered on the coat, zipping up what felt like thick pads all around me. Then I pulled over the helmet, but before I could snap the inset helmet on, something smashed into the side of our car.
The world flipped end over end, and my shoulder and waist slammed into my seatbelt as we rolled upside down and kept going. I slammed into the door, chin cracking into the window. Sharp agony exploded up the length of my jaw, and a headache instantly pounded through my skull.
The car slammed onto its wheels again and jolted to a stop. I couldn’t draw in enough air. A screeching came from outside. A large, red van with a smashed front end skidded to a stop, and its windshield collapsed. The van’s door flew off, crashing into a nearby lamppost, and three gaunt men climbed out of the backseat. They looked like they hadn’t seen the sun or had a good meal in years. In perfect sync, they all turned toward me and smiled, baring yellow teeth.
“Get down!” Sebastian grabbed me and pulled me into him.
My aching chin collided with his shoulder, and the world went hazy as searing pain ignited in my jaw once more.
“Go!” Sebastian yelled just as what looked like a sledgehammer slammed into my car window and bounced off.
I pulled my leg up, preparing to kick anyone who tried to grab me, but the window held firm. There wasn’t even a crack.
“Drive!” Sebastian yelled, and the car immediately jolted into motion. There were several jerks as we collided into things—bodies maybe. We veered right, then left before we were finally speeding forward. “Are you injured?” Sebastian growled as he continued to push me down.
“I’m fine, just banged around,” I said as I pushed up and away from him. A thumping rose from nearby, loud as someone hitting a drum next to my ears. Thump, thump. My teeth ached, and pain pricked my gums as my fangs filled my mouth. Thump, thump.
Sebastian was asking me something, his expression hanging somewhere between concerned and angry. I saw his lips moving, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying over the thumping that echoed through the car.
My whole body felt hollow and sick, and one thought consumed me. I needed blood. I needed blood now.
Two sets of heartbeats thumped loud and fast in an irregular, four-note rhythm. Blood pumped through veins in a network all around me. I needed it. I could sense its warmth; its metallic goodness, so close to me.
I could even hear the palpitating of a pulse right near my ears, loud and steady.
I reached up, wrapping my hands around Sebastian’s arm and pulled it to my mouth. He didn’t fight to get away, and his pulse grew thunderous.
“January,” I barely heard his low voice over the sound of pumping blood. “What are you doing …” Sebastian’s voice trailed off as my mouth closed over his wrist. He spoke more words, but it made very little sense to me, just a mess of incoherent sounds. I could feel his fluttering pulse under my lips.
“Do it,” he whispered close to me. His voice was finally clear to my ears. “You obviously need it.”
A realization rose from the murky depths within me. Some impulse in me knew that this wasn’t right. My head swam, and my whole body stiffened. I found the strength to pull my mouth away. Shivers wracked me from head to toe, and I felt Sebastian’s warm flesh press against my lips again.
“Drink,” he demanded.
I shoved his arm away. “No—get me bagged blood,” I managed to whisper before darkness pulled me under. The world was a hazy blur. Wheels squealed, and lights flashed over us. My door ripped open, and someone fumbled me out and lifted me into their arms.
Sebastian’s chiseled jaw fell in and out of focus, and then the coppery tang of blood filled my mouth, splashing over my tongue and down my throat. Blood—there was no better taste in the world. I drank greedily, shredding the plastic into bits with my fangs.
“You’re making a mess,” Sebastian growled from beside me, and I opened my eyes to see him hovering over me with a second bag of blood.
He looked revolted, his gaze fixed on the padded jacket I was wearing. When I looked down, I found the material soaked with crimson. Blood stained my jeans in big sodden splotches.
“You probably need more. Try to get it in your body instead of all over it.” He held out a second bag.
My fangs slid into the plastic, and I drank it down. A sweet, tingling warmth filled me. It was gone in what felt like seconds, and when Sebastian offered me a third, I took it.
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