“Princess?” She angled her head to the side, taking Tate in before her eyes slid over to me with an equal amount of assessment. Either she had one hell of a poker face or she wasn’t sure what to make of us.
Tate tucked his hands into the pockets of his jacket and rocked on his heels. “Ah, yeah, that was before… you know.”
She nodded slowly. “Got it. Well, I’m good. Thanks.” She turned to go.
No lingering or trying to flutter her eyes at either of us, as most human servants would have. Most could sense the power of other vampires and strived to get close to whoever had the longest fangs. This one couldn’t seem to care less.
“Hey, wait.” Tate reached for her and then stopped when she glared at his hand. “What’s your name? Or maybe you’d just like to be mine.” He wagged his eyebrows with a wolfish grin.
A normal woman would have blushed and giggled at Tate’s come on, but my woman simply stared at him for a long moment before pursing her lips, head cocked to the side. “Does that usually work?”
Tate shifted from foot to foot, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, usually.” He pulled his lip ring between his teeth, a nervous habit that he knew drove me wild.
“Right,” she drew out before turning on her heels again.
“Then I guess I’ll just continue to call you princess, then?” Tate called out after her, and the eagerness in him vibrated down our bond.
She didn’t turn as she waved a hand over her shoulder.
“Awkward,” Tate sing-songed with a nervous chuckle, talking to me though his eyes never left her retreating form. “Haven’t struck out like that in… well… ever.”
Letting out a low hum, I discretely allowed my shadows to follow after her. For the first time in fifty years, I was intrigued by someone other than Tate and I wasn’t about to let her go now that I’d found her.
This mystery wrapped in leather didn’t know it yet, but she was about to be mine.
Chapter five
Jack
Myfoottappedanimpatient rhythm as I stood in the registration line. Golden light filled the room from the ancient-looking scones. They’d repurposed an old castle for the academy apparently, upgrading it to modern technology without destroying the classical elements.
At least my parents weren’t wasteful.
The horde of supernaturals squeezing in around me made my skin itch with anxiety. While I wasn’t unused to crowds, usually they were other hunters, not unknown supernaturals. The inability to tell friend from foe while I waited in line made my pulse race.
It didn’t help that, ever since parking, I felt a prickle on the back of my neck. Like someone was watching me. If they were, they were good, because no one around seemed even remotely interested in me, more absorbed with their own stuff.
I took a few deep breaths and focused on lowering my heart rate. Everything would be alright. This was what I wanted, afterall — a chance to prove myself. If I fucked this up, I didn’t know when I’d get another chance and then I would likely be stuck here, like the rest of the bored supes looking for some sense of normal in a human-ran world.
Thankfully, the Durand Supernatural Academy was everything I expected it to be, an ode to my family and their power. The house sigil decorated practically every surface, not letting anyone forget who they owed their education to.
I bet that was Antoine’s doing. He wasn’t exactly subtle in his rulership.
Strangely, the interaction with the werewolves right out the gate had been a surprise. My parents always preached unity and harmony amongst the supernaturals. But the harsh treatment I’d received just for parking in the wrong spot — being called a vamp whore — didn’t exactly scream harmony.
My mind drifted back to the large dark-skinned werewolf and his lingering pale friend, likely a vampire, but I hadn’t been close enough to tell. The intensity of his gaze had been enough for me to want to get out of there quickly. The positive was that at least a few of the other supernaturals hadn’t been prejudiced against me right away.
Once I’d gotten my assignment, it was smooth sailing from there. With my parents owning the academy, it was easy enough to get enrolled, classes selected — which I had little say in, since I needed to be able to meet with my support — and rooming set up.
I’d argued there was no reason for me to live at the college when I could drive the thirty minutes from the house every day. Except my mom argued that it would look better for my cover to stay on campus and limit the likelihood that someone traced me back to them.
I was to be a human servant whose master dumped me here to get an education and keep out of the way while they handledbusiness. When I questioned anyone believing that story, my dad, Antoine, simply sniffed.
“Not everyone treated their human servants as family. Some of the older ones keep human servants more as pets than companions.”
The answer had made me feel a bit better about my cover story, but only just.
“Name?” a gangly human squawked at me, not looking up from their computer.
