“It should. We’re evenly matched,” he replied. “A fight between us could kill us both. But it’s worth it if it keeps her safe.”
“Safe?” I challenged. “Only if you’re planning on taking yourself out of the equation. I’m not the one who’s out of control.”
To be fair, I’d never responded to the scent of blood that way, but I refused to believe I would hurt her. I refused to believe I could.
“I don’t feed off people,” he growled. “I have to be locked up once a month. So what? It’s not like it’s out of the blue.”
“Right. You just have the potential to level the whole school and everyone in it,” I scoffed. My irritation was rising, but I knew there was no point in arguing with him. Not when I hadn’t even had the chance to speak with Bells properly. “I think it’s only fair she should be the one to choose.”
“Damn right, I do,” he said under his breath, but he seemed to take that as a strange compliment and temporarily backed down. “You really think she’d choose you?”
His question didn’t phase me, though I knew at least part of it had to be a jab at my appearance. I was used to it. My own kind despised me for being the exception to the perfect beauty that epitomized the vampire race, and I was under no delusion about it.
“I’m not talking about taking her to the formal,” I said. “This is about protecting her. I assume she’ll listen to reason, unlike you.”
“She’s rooming with Amari fucking Hellbringer or whatever the hell her name is. Pretty sure her view of vampires is gonna be permanently tainted by the time the day’s over. If you want to convince her you monsters have a good side, you’d better get going on that,” he said with a confident smirk. “At least we’re only monsters once in a while.”
I gave him an eye roll, but he had a point. Amari was just about the most venomous snake the school had to offer. “You just worry about her impression of you,” I said, turning away. I was already late to class, but I wasn’t going to miss the next one.
Chapter 4
Dean
“You just worryabout her impression of you,” the bloodsucker had said before turning around and walking away, not giving a shit what my response would be.
He drove me crazy.
As much as I hated to admit it, though, I didn’thavea response to that. It was better that he walked away before he realized my tongue was tied, for once in my life--or what I remembered of my life, at least.
Based on my sessions with Dr. Price, I hadn’t always been an “overconfident prick,” though, as other students had said I was on more than one occasion. In fact, when I was younger, I’d been pretty damn shy. Insecure. Weak. Even as a teenager, when I was still human, I was small and slight, my clothes so baggy it looked like they were on a coat hanger. No matter how hard I pushed myself at the gym, nothing changed. My mother blamed my fast metabolism and told me I’d be grateful for it one day.
I hated myself.
I prayed every day, rosary and all, that I’d get bigger. Stronger. I prayed that I’d be able to kick my bully’s ass, then felt guilty about my profanity. Rinse and repeat.
Little did I know, I’d get my wish in the most unexpected way. And I didn’t even know how it had happened, exactly. It was apparently my worst memory, and Dr. Price wouldn’t go there until I was nearing graduation. All I knew was that it had left my arms and torso covered in silvery scars.
I didn’t have a clue what a werewolf was at the time, and I’d been thrown head-first into a world way beyond my comprehension. I couldn’t see the day I was turned, but I did know I thought I’d been mauled by a bear. That was what the hospital thought, too, even though the black bears we had in Virginia were generally docile.
The following month had been a weird one. I’d gone through the most rapid growth spurt imaginable, hitting six feet and putting on muscle until I more than surpassed two-hundred pounds, none of it fat. I just thought my prayers had finally been answered. Then again, even though no one fucked with me anymore, they went from treating me like gum under their shoes to whispering about me in the halls. There was even talk that I’d sold my soul to the devil.
The first time I’d turned on a full moon, before I could do any damage, I was picked up by the Agency, a supernatural police force dedicated to keeping humans from finding out about us. I’d learned what I’d become, and that I could never go back to my old life. I could never see my family again. It was better for them to think I was dead.
Not that I particularly cared. I was the black sheep of the family and more than happy to leave them behind. They treated me like shit.
Becoming a werewolf had been a double-edged sword. On one hand, I was bigger, stronger, faster. On the other, I was a literal monster. The Agency did their best to keep me contained, but whenever my temper spiked or the full moon hung high in the sky, I’d break free. I was difficult to contain, and they had little experience with werewolves. Generally, werewolves were put down, but I was young and they’d taken pity on me.
Eventually, I managed to escape for good, only to be caught by vampires and thrown into a cage to be put on display like some kind of monstrous living art piece, electrocuted every so often with a cattle prod to keep me enraged so I wouldn’t shift back into my human form.
My memories surrounding that were fuzzy, because they were too closely related to my crime, but I knew I’d been kept in a literal gallery populated by human blood slaves. I remembered how beautiful they were, as the vampires placed so much emphasis on perfection that even their slaves had to be perfect; I remembered their weeping and crying as they were led off every now and then to be fed from. I remembered how they weren’t even allowed to wear clothes, their bodies on perpetual display to please their masters.
How could I be blamed for hating vampires after that?
I was a pretty damn good judge of character and Alistair didn’t seem as bad as they came, but knowing he’d laid claim to the girl I was convinced was the love of my life was enraging, to say the least. Knowing he wanted to feed from her was enough to drive me to the edge of my ability to control the beast within.
He could be a smartass all he liked, but I swore to myself that if he ever let those fangs so much as graze her skin, I’d kill him, consequences be damned.
Chapter 5
