Fuck, these overprotective men.
“I said,possiblyshe is scared. It could be nothing. . . or it could be she has finally noticed what kind of place that school really is.”
“Rowan.” The warning in Charlie’s voice was familiar. This was heading towards an argument we’d had before.
“I know what I know,” I grumbled, running a hand through my hair. “In my world, we had Female Seminaries—a pretty name for breeding programs.”
The sound of Levi’s desperate apologies drifted through the walls, followed by Sloane’s clipped responses. Then silence. Soon after, I tuned them out because some things I didn’t need to hear again.
“Gods,” I muttered, focusing hard on the label of my beer bottle. “Every fucking time.”
Charlie’s mouth twitched. “At least they’re consistent.”
Consistent. That was one word for it. Levi and Sloane had the kind of hunger for each other that should have burned out years ago, but somehow hadn’t. Even when he’d cheated, even when she’d thrown him out, they’d circled back to each other like satellites locked in orbit.
The most sorrowful part of their tale was that Charlie also lived in that other shared life alongside Levi. At one point,hehad been Sloane’s husband. I still hadn’t heard his entire story, but I imagined it was why he kept so close to both of them.
“About Violet,” Charlie said, pulling us back to what mattered. “You really think something’s up?”
I sipped my beer as I thought over my words carefully. Charlie would listen. He always did. It was Levi who refused to hear anything that threatened his perfect suburban narrative.
“I do,” I said. “It might just be my paranoia, but from what I recall from my previous life? We had stories of society before the veil fell. Many of those stories spoke of how deeply ingrained the supernaturals were in everyday life. How they lived among mortals in secret.”
“To what end?”
I shrugged. “There were lots of different stories with lots of different reasons. Some spoke of keeping mortals as sex slaves, pets, breeding stock, or food. It was harder to pinpoint when they made an effort to burn all texts relating to it. However,” I said, then paused as I took another drink of beer. “Can you guess one point that nearly all the stories agreed upon?”
Charlie shook his head, though I was certain he knew what I was about to say. His shaking was more out of a refusal to accept the truth I was offering as he fought to understand the difference between my old life and theirs.
“In all of those stories, one of the preferred hunting grounds of the supernaturals were the elite and prestigious schools that parents would send their heirs to.”
Levi chose that moment to return, shirt untucked, raven hair messed, looking entirely too pleased with himself. The man had no subtlety. Behind him, Sloane appeared in the doorway, equally disheveled but somehow more dignified about it. I could see the telltale flush of embarrassment against golden skin as she waved to us.
“Boys,” she said, her voice only lightly accented compared to her sister Dawn, and there was warmth in it. “I’ll be starting dinner in a bit. Charlie and Rowan, you two are staying?”
It wasn’t a question. We were staying.
I nodded. Sloane had decided years ago that I was too thin, too sharp around the edges, and needed feeding. It was easier to let her mother me. . . it wasn’t as if I could explain to her that in my first life, I had often survived on rations and melted snow for months at a time.
She disappeared back inside, long brown hair trailing behind her, and Levi reclaimed his seat, eyeing me with fresh suspicion. “What were you two talking about?”
“Violet,” Charlie said simply. “Rowan thinks she might be in trouble at school.”
“Rowan thinks everyone is in trouble everywhere,” Levi shot back. “According to him, we are all about to be vampyre food or demon bait or whatever monster he is dreaming up this week.”
The dismissal stung more than it should have. Five years of trying to warn them, and Levi still thought I was delusional. Despite the extraordinary circumstances of both his own and Charlie’s reincarnations, he was a combination of naive and narcissistic to refuse to believe there were even stranger things in the world.
“Do you want to know what I heard when I was on the phone with Violet?” I asked, looking straight at Levi. “She said that sheneededto come home this weekend. She did not say that shewantedto come home. The difference was subtle, but it was there.”
Levi snorted derisively. “Did you hear that subtle difference with your superhuman hearing?”
His mockery forced me to my feet, my chair clattering on the patio. “You were so quick to believe me just now when I said your wife was home.” My voice was ice and venom as I continued. “Just becauseyourefuse to believe me about the Godsblood does not make it less real.”
“Boy,” Levi snarled, “I’ve heard enough of your crazy fearmongering. This Godsblood you claim to have, the one by a corrupt pharmaceutical company—”
“Not corrupt,” I interrupted. “Owned and operated by vampyres.”
“I don’t give a damn,” he seethed, “about your magical blood fantasy, your silly ghost stories, your world-wide vampyre-led conspiracy, or the post-apocalyptic world you allegedly came from.” He pointed a finger at me. “Don’t drag Violet into your delusional bullshit.”
