Page 14 of She Who Was Once the Sea

"When did you graduate?" he asked. "You don’t look much older than us, but I don’t remember seeing you around campus." His cocky grin returned. "I definitely would have remembered you."

I shrugged, strongly regretting the direction of this conversation. "I didn’t get out much. I studied a lot."

"So you were a nerd?" he teased.

I bristled. "You could say that."

He laughed. "I’m just kidding." His voice dropped low again. "I like smart girls. They’re always filled with surprises."

There we go.

"You have no idea," I answered softly.

Brian’s drink was now completely empty. I let my face inch closer to his as I reached forward and took it from his hand, setting it on a nearby table.

"Follow me." I inclined my head towards the corner of the room, where I knew there was an exit door. Taking his hand in mine, I pulled him along. I saw him take out his phone as if to check a message—or maybe the time—but he didn’t resist in the slightest, and in just a few short seconds, we were outside in a dimly lit alleyway, the smell of piss and trash thick in the air. At the end of the alley, the sounds of late-night revelry could still be heard—partiers leaving the club or wandering home. But our little alcove was dark and private. There was no reason for anyone to join us here.

It took me by surprise how quickly Brian moved to take advantage of our seclusion. Before I could even turn around to face him, I felt his lips on my neck and his hands on my hips. He pushed me forward into the stone wall with so much force that I dropped my glasses of wine, hearing them shatter on the cobblestones beneath our feet.

His weight settled against my back as he traced a line of kisses from my shoulder to my ear. I tried my best to arch back into his touch, even as it made my stomach churn.

Distantly, I tried to remember what it felt like to enjoy a moment like this. The surge of pleasure that used to build in my stomach when a man flattened his palm against my waist or pinched my nipples, the intoxicating feeling of being wanted…

But Brian’s hot breath reeked of too-sweet alcohol, his groping entitled rather than worshipful, and I froze beneath his touch. He was too drunk to feel my muscles tighten, too caught up in his own arousal to notice my arm coiling like a snake.

I felt my canines elongate behind my lips, running my tongue across their points in anticipation. As I readied myself to turn and strike, I heard a sound from behind us.

At first, I thought it might be a dog—or perhaps several. There was a series of crashes followed by a chorus of loud whoops. Brian’s grip on me loosened just enough to allow me to spin around and face the commotion.

Spilling from the same door we’d used were his friends.

All of them.

Fuck. The thought echoed through my head. I was confident that I’d be able to handle all of them, but the chance that one might slip away to report what he’d seen was far too high.

And I knew it was only a matter of time before the sun began to rise.

"I hope you don’t mind," Brian whispered wolfishly into my ear, "but I invited my friends to join us."

Chapter 5 - Garrett

The closer it got to sunrise, the more tempted I was to simply go home and crawl into bed. It seemed cruel to expect us to maintain our regular daily duties on the same day we had to stay up all night scouring the city for monsters. Irresponsible, even.

But I forced myself to keep walking, even as my feet began absently wandering towards the compound. At this point, it was highly unlikely that I’d find anything, and despite the overwhelming feeling of disappointment, I was also immensely grateful. The two emotions crowded my tired consciousness. On one hand, I was desperate to feel useful—to find myself a purpose other than simply existing.

On the other, I was absolutely not confident in my ability to use the shiny dagger sheathed at my side. I’d sunk it into the practice dummy plenty of times in the past few days, but I still winced every time I felt the tip piercing the outer skin until resistance gave way beneath my hands.

What would it feel like to stab something living?

I shuddered at the thought.

The streets were surprisingly active for a weeknight, mostly occupied by university students and tourists whose schedules weren’t dictated by the days of the week. A handful of late-night bars and clubs still had small groups of people crowding around their doors, smoking and chatting and eyeing me with interest as I walked past.

I was supposed to spend my entire first night with Brother Lucas, but he’d abandoned me early in the night with a wave and a shrug.

"You’ll be fine," he’d said in response to my feeble protests. "The chances of you running into anything are a million to one."

"Won’t you get in trouble for going home before sunrise?"