“Stop staring at me,” he says flatly, never once looking my way.
And like an idiot I fling my attention away, choosing to peer up at the swaying leaves hanging above us.
“Tomorrow we’ll do the good behavior shit and Monday, make sure you’re around. Not just for Izzy but for Saint.” His palm brushes my wrist, a single second of his fingers pulling at my attention. Serious eyes meet mine. “Tilly will fucking love you. Do the wing thing. Girls love your wings, but Tilly will think you’re the closest thing to god that she’s ever seen.”
Holy shit, he’s almost smiling at me.
I nod slowly, nerves crawling up from my stomach to consume my chest. He strides down the steps and never looks back.
Even as I have a semi panic attack right here on the Academy lawn.
I have to meet a nun, a vampire, and a human and convince them all that I’m good enough. All the while being locked away in a prison Academy for something I’ll never confess to doing.
I wish it was as simple as Phoenix says it is.
Nineteen
Izara
Something’s off. Like when a check engine light chimes on just before all four wheels fall right off the car and it explodes in a heap of fiery flames for no apparent reason.
“Let me help you with that,” Saint says with a chipper smile. He jogs over to Malek and pulls the few logs from the werewolf’s hands just to sit them down at his feet where he was stacking the other logs.
He didn’t even make a fetch joke when Malek left to go get wood.
Malek’s dark eyebrow lifts. His lips purse. Saint smiles harder. Malek’s eyes narrow. Saint winks. It’s the most bizarre standoff I’ve ever had to witness. And it’s been happening on repeat since we came out to the little forest clearing on the west side of campus early this morning.
The dirt I sit in is warm and soothing as I draw the sharp lines of Saint’s face, and the hard edges of Malek’s scowl with a short pencil-like stick. Malek steps back from the vampire with a shake of his head. Sweat curls his dark hair and makes his white shirt cling to the perfect ridges of his chest. It’s a distraction that just keeps going because seconds later he’s pulling at the back of the shirt and I watch quietly as he flings it down to the ground. The reveal of his smooth skin, the dark hair that trails down from his navel to the waist of his jeans is all I can focus on.
Until Saint also pulls his shirt off.
Syko and Phoenix stop talking and I swear this is real life but maybe it’s not, maybe I’m just dreaming because they too take their shirts off as if it’s a flash mob and they’re all about to surprise me with a beautiful song and sexy dance.
“Okay, what the fuck is with you guys?” I ask instead of enjoying the perfect sight of the four shirtless men basking in the morning sunlight.
“Seriously,” Malek says before whispering a string of Spanish curses under his breath.
That suspicious smile on Saint’s face is like a permanent display meant for window shoppers, but I happen to own this special edition of twisted vampire, and I know firsthand that he’s not as stable as the price tag smile is making him seem.
“What do you mean? We’re having a great time.” Saint walks slowly toward me. Predatorily. When he bends down to kneel in front of me, he just keeps coming and crawls up my body until I’m pinned beneath him, staring up at the most beautifully demented sky blue eyes.
Cool skin brushes along my chest from above my tank top but I don’t let his body distract me the way he’s trying to. Soft hair meets my fingers and I pull just lightly when I get a slight grip on his dark locks. A real smile shines through.
Finally.
“I mean, why are you mimicking Malek like you’re his biggest fan?” I whisper.
He leans in to feel my words coating his lips.
“I’m not.” His lips ghost mine.
“Lies,” I tell him.
The rumbling laughter that shakes through him and along my mouth is an addicting taste that I want to feel on a deeper level. Lean hips shift against mine and I slowly part my legs to feel him fully against my core.
His lips barely brush mine, his tongue almost skims the seam of my mouth.
Then the distinct sound of a belt clattering against the ground demands our attention. Malek drops his jeans and pushes out of his boxer briefs without warning.
