Page 108 of Collared by the Vampire Prince

“Ah, here we are,” he says, producing a large glass jar that releases a sulphuric scent when he uncaps it. “Bulfur bulbs. You’ll know them by the smell.”

He scoops out a large wrinkled bulb that oozes yellow fluid that looks far too much like pus. My collar warms against my skin as he holds it closer in his bare palm, and I realise the thing must be magical.

“Fascinating,” I say, because it’s the sort of thing Becky would say.

Professor Parna looks delighted and nods profusely. “Indeed. Very interesting plants. Studies suggest they might be sentient—I rotate them between my personal aquarium to promote contentment. I’ve observed—anecdotally, of course—that this results in an average twelve percent increase in seed yield. See here, Kira…”

I rise tentatively and lean closer while he prods the bulb with tweezers. It splits open with a wet little sigh, revealing orange seeds tucked inside like miniature pumpkin pips.

“Limited potency unbrewed, of course,” he says, “but useful in certain strengthening draughts. Very popular with athletes for short bursts of stamina. Not that I approve of such misuse.”

“Of course not, sir.”

My focus is not on the bulb. It is on the half-open drawer beside him, left that way when he removed the tweezers. Inside are stirring rods, twine, corks, labels, mallets, mortars and pestles, ladles, an assortment of beakers—and dozens of small paring knives.

Doing my best to nod along and hum in interest, I shuffle closer to Parna, my hand drifting behind my back and closing around the handle of a knife.

Professor Parna continues talking about bulfur bulbs and their properties, oblivious.

As I withdraw my hand, I accidentally knock the stirring rods.

I flinch as they rattle, but Parna fails to notice. Sweating, I slip the knife into my sleeve and let out a low breath. Meanwhile, Parna plucks one of the slimy seeds free.

“Here,” he says, dropping it into a small, folded piece of paper. “Limited effect without brewing, as I said, but if you chew it before Physical Education, it may give you a little edge. Do not tell Professor Bomcroft I gave you that.” He taps his nose conspiratorially before turning away.

“Of course not, Professor. Thank you.”

I stow the slimy seed in my pocket.

Gross. Possibly useful, but gross.

“Sir, I should probably rinse the cauldrons,” I say before he can launch into another explanation. “It’s getting late…”

“Oh, look at the time!” Professor Parna peers towards the clock. “No, no, my dear, you have done quite enough. Leave the rest. I have another student coming in on Monday evening, I believe.”

Yes. That would be me.

I thank him and leave the classroom elated and a little out of breath, finding it strange that it feels strange to have a normal conversation with a vampire. And I can’t help grinning because finally, after all that, I did it.

I have a knife. Granted, it is not the vicious blade I dreamed of, but finally, at long last, I have a weapon—

I round the corner and walk straight into Nathaniel, colliding with his chest and stumbling back.

He steadies me with one hand at my elbow. “You,” he says. “Following me again?”

“I’m not following you.” I pull my arm free, my skin burning where he touched me even through my sleeve. “I just had detention.”

His brow furrows. “I thought that is on Monday.”

So, he’s been watching me, at least to a degree. Fantastic.

“That one is from Madame Perfinette,” I explain. “Tonight was from Professor Marmala. I’ve spent the evening cleaning cauldrons, if you must know.” I give him a saccharine smile. “But I did think of you while I scraped congealed grease from the bottoms.”

His brows lift. “Indeed? How flattering. Though that is peculiar. Professor Marmala does not normally hand out detention—not unless a student has made a complete lack of effort.”

It is my turn to lift a brow.

“Ah,” he says.