Love Bites

Chapter 7

“Ican’t help it. Whenever I see them together, a blinding rage just takes over me,” the male to my left explains, slumped back in his chair as though all of his willpower has been drained from him.

I nod sympathetically. At least, I do until I see no one else is agreeing with him. The rest of the creatures in the room are either shaking their heads or not engaging at all. Not wanting Cyril, the leader of this class, to see my faux pas, I quickly stop and rest my hands in my lap.

Thankfully for me, Cyril’s attention is on the male currently sharing his story with us. “I know it has been a difficult time for you, Jeremy, but you cannot break your curfew and restraining order to turn your ex’s new boyfriend into a frog, no matter how justified you believe it to be.”

Jeremy, a witch who is here because he broke a restraining order placed on him by his ex, sighs and drops his head.

Not giving up, Cyril turns his attention to the rest of us. “Does anyone have any suggestions on what Jeremy could do to stop himself from breaking the law? Any plans he could put in place to keep himself away, and therefore not use magic on the male in question?”

This conflict resolution class, or as I like to dub it, how not to murder people 101, has been running for about an hour now, and I’m starting to see a theme. Sitting in a circle, we each take turns to talk about our crime and what we could do differently if the situation was to happen again. From what I’ve gathered, most of the creatures here carry a deep sense of pride, and when that is wounded, they lash out.

There is a mixture of creatures from both the red and blue wings here, so I’ve finally met some of my unit mates. No one has paid any attention to me really, only sending curious glances my way—all except one, that is. Directly opposite me is the winged male from this morning, his dark stare boring into me. I find it ridiculously distracting having him here, and it doesn’t help that he’s been staring at me since the moment he arrived.

Stressed and uncomfortable, I fiddle with my hands in my lap. I forgot my notebook in the room where Zane and I made out earlier, and I couldn’t get back in, which means I can’t take notes or check what he told me earlier. What if I forget something important? They might give me a piece of information that is vital to getting me out of here, and I would miss it, all because I left it behind thanks to making out with a male I barely know.

No one else seems to be taking notes, but that doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t. Shifting around in my chair in an attempt to get comfortable, I catch the eye of the group leader.

“Emily, what is your take on this? Do you have any ideas on how Jeremy could avoid this situation?” Voice smooth and even, Cyril smiles at me in a way that gives me the creeps.

When I arrived at the class, I was informed that participation was mandatory, and any refusal to join would be noted in my assessment and might go against me. I am assuming this is one of those situations, so I rack my brain for a solution, clicking my tongue as I think. An idea comes to me.

“Is there a way you could use your magic from a distance so you wouldn’t actually be breaking the restraining order since you would be far away?” I ask with a tilt of my head as I address Jeremy. He seems to perk up at the idea, lifting his head in interest.

Coughing causes me to glance over, and I find Cyril looking flustered. “Emily—”

Not taking notice, I allow him to recover from his coughing fit as another idea comes to me. “Or you could use your magic to do something that couldn’t be traced back to you. For example, you could make their milk go sour, or use it to give them a flat tire!”

I think I’m getting the hang of this advice malarkey, and my enthusiasm for the topic grows. There are so many things he could do with his magic and never once have to approach them.

Cyril jumps forward in his seat, and for a second, it looks like he’s about to spring to his feet, his face flustered. “Emily, don’t give him ideas. This isn’t what I meant.”

“I’m not telling him to do anything dangerous, just stay away and use magic at a distance so he doesn’t break his restraining order.” Smiling as I give my explanation, I feel pretty good about myself.

“She makes a fair point,” one of the females to my right comments, looking thoughtful. Several grumbles of agreement follow, and I notice how Jeremy is now sitting upright, his eyes gleaming with ideas.

Finally reaching the end of his tolerance, Cyril stands and spreads his hands wide in the universal gesture to calm down. “No, this is not helpful. Restraining orders don’t work that way. He can’t have any contact in any way, that includes using his magic on them.” That comment is directed at me, but thankfully he turns his attention to the witch in question. “Jeremy, you need to keep away from your ex and her new family, or you will end up in jail. When you get those urges, why not use your magic for something productive instead? What about gardening?”

I’m not the only one to wrinkle my nose at the suggestion, and Jeremy outright snorts, shaking his head in disbelief. The male has major anger issues, and Cyril wants him to turn to gardening when he feels the need to use his magic? While I might not have a PhD in conflict resolution, even I can tell that’s not going to work.

“I’ll let you think on that,” the leader suggests with a tight smile and shifts his gaze to the next person, who happens to be the male with the wings. “Gabriel, it’s your turn to share.”

He glances at Cyril with a look of disgust, and I get the impression that he has personal issues with the male.

Grumbling, he moves in his chair, his huge wings shifting position so they don’t get trapped. Blowing out a frustrated breath, he clears his throat. “My name is Gabriel, and I’m here because I was caught stealing.”

“Thank you, Gabriel,” our leader comments with fake appreciation. There is definitely some history between those two, and while Cyril is able to mask it better than Gabriel, it’s still pretty obvious there is no love lost between them. “Could you share why you committed the crime?”

He grins, looking straight at me. “Because I wanted to. I get a thrill out of doing it.” He’s speaking to the room, so why do I get the feeling that he’s directing his comment towards me? His grin becomes wicked. “The harder the target, the greater the thrill.”

Okay, that was definitely aimed at me. Is he… Is he flirting with me? Or is this a warning?

“Petty crimes wouldn’t have gotten you locked up here. Tell them all what you stole.” The comment comes from a young male with a spotted tail protruding from his lower back. It might sound like a reprimand, but from the male’s smile and the amusement dancing in his eyes, it seems more like pride.

Snorting, Gabriel leans back in his seat, the plastic groaning as he pushes it to its limits. “I broke into Blanchard’s and stole their safe.”

There is muttering around us, and everyone looks at him in a new light. Some seem surprised, but most simply look impressed—everyone except for me. I have no idea what Blanchard’s is, nor the significance of why this safe is so much more shock worthy than any other safe.

Merrin, the vampire I was told to sit beside for this class, leans over to explain. “Blanchard’s is a supernatural bank. It’s the biggest in the country and is spelled to protect it and the people within. To steal that safe, he would have had to get past the spells and the armed guards. It’s supposed to be impossible.”

I’m grateful for the explanation and nod my head in understanding. While I’m unsure why there needs to be a specific bank for supernaturals, I can appreciate the difficulty of what he did. It sounds like an impossible task, yet somehow, he managed it.

Staring at him, I examine his body. Other than his wings and amber eyes, he could pass for a normal human, so I cannot imagine he’s strong enough to lift a safe by himself—not to mention that safes are heavy, so I doubt he would be able to fly out with it.

Trying to get the attention of the room and pull us back to the topic at hand, Cyril claps his hands together. “And what could you have done to avoid getting into this situation you find yourself in today?”

Gabriel looks at Cyril, and his body language changes. Gone is the smirk, and in its place is a look of bored disdain. “Not get caught?”

I snort a laugh, and it catches his attention. While his expression doesn’t change, I can see intrigue shining in his eyes. In fact, the sound caught everyone’s attention, it just took me a second to notice as I became lost in the winged male’s gaze. “He’s not wrong,” I reply with a shrug, trying to defend myself from Cyril’s narrowed gaze.

Sighing, our leader turns to face me and slowly walks my way. While he looks fairly calm, I get the feeling I’ve upset him. “Emily, you’re new here, and I don’t usually ask people to share for their first group, but seeing as you are so… vocal, let’s give it a try. Tell us why you’re here.”

Oh boy, this is what I get for opening my mouth. Okay, come on, Emmy, you can do this.

“I’m an orphan, and I grew up not knowing I was a vampire. It was my twenty-first birthday a couple of days ago, and I transformed. Unfortunately, I also killed my boyfriend in the process.” The words flow out of me in a rush so fast, I’m not even sure they make sense. With the number of times I’ve had to tell this story, you’d think I would get used to saying those words aloud, yet it’s not getting any easier to accept.

Vampire. The undead. Murderer.

How my life has changed. Never in my wildest dreams did I think any of this would ever happen to me. Planning my future wasn’t anything I really did as a kid, thanks to my life constantly changing as I was moved from home to home, but any thoughts of a normal life are now destroyed, all because I’m a vampire.

“You killed your boyfriend?” one of the terrifying, spindly females to Gabriel’s left asks with reluctant admiration. “That’s kind of badass.”

I have no idea what they are, but there are two of them. Their bodies are thin and tall, as though they’ve been stretched, and their skin is so pale, I can see the blue veins beneath. Their fingers are long and wickedly sharp, and instead of hair, there are tall, pale protrusions. Honestly, they look like winter branches reaching up to the sky. They have sat eerily still for the entire meeting, only now moving to acknowledge me.

That isn’t the reason they terrify me so much though. Their eyes appear to be missing, and in their place are two black voids, yet they seem to notice everything.

“No, we are not encouraging this reaction,” Cyril interjects, waving a finger in reprimand like he’s telling off naughty children. The female who just spoke bares a row of jagged teeth and hisses, not appreciating being treated that way.

Good, I wish she had bitten him.

Bitten.

Bite.

Blood.

I want to groan at the thought. My fangs burst from my gums as I think about glorious, hot blood sliding down my throat. It’s been days since I fed, and it seems that it doesn’t take much for my mind to jump straight to the source of my obsession—blood.

Cyril frowns at my fangs, looking faintly disgusted, but before I can call him out on it, he waves a hand in the air.

“You were obviously taken by surprise by all of this, which is why you are here and not rotting in jail. That’s where murderers usually end up.”

Ouch, that was harsh. Sure, it’s true, but he didn’t have to call me out on it in public. I’m starting to think he doesn’t like me, and while I don’t care if he wants to be buddies with me or not, he could tell my assessors that I’ve not been participating like I should be.

“We need to make sure that you’re given the right advice so you can feed properly. Being on top of your feeding regime is one of the best ways to stay in control,” Cyril explains, and his advice is actually useful. Glancing around the circle, he opens up the discussion. “Does anyone have any suggestions?”

“Don’t have sex with humans, they are too breakable,” Merrin, my chair neighbour, chimes in, sounding as though he’s learned this through experience. We’ve not discussed his crime yet, but I wonder if it has anything to do with his comment.

“I hear that new vampires’ sexual urges are pretty fierce,” Gabriel remarks, sending a shiver down my spine. “I would suggest she find a lover who could handle her needs,” he continues as I meet his gaze.

“Are you volunteering?” The words escape me before I can stop them. My eyes widen in horror, and I can do nothing but watch as he laughs and tilts his head to one side.

“I don’t know, princess.” His voice is deep and mellow, seductive and rich, drawing me in with each syllable. Smiling slowly, he leans forward, resting his forearms on his thighs, those gorgeous wings fanning out slightly with the movement. “I’m not sure you could keep up with me.”

Clapping his hands together once more to get our attention, Cyril looks as though he’s about to lose his temper. “Okay, that’s enough flirting. Sex can actually be pretty dangerous with a new vampire, as it is easier to lose control with those feelings racing through you.” Giving me what I’m sure he thinks is a stern look, he crosses his arms over his chest. “While I can’t stop you from having relations while you’re here, I suggest you think it through pretty hard before you do anything.”

“It’s okay, Cyril, the more dangerous something is, the more it’s worth in the end,” Gabriel says to our leader, yet he continues to look at me as he speaks, causing my cheeks to flush red.

“We have digressed.” Voice tight, Cyril walks through the circle until he reaches the chair he abandoned. Taking a deep breath, he slowly sits down and glances around the room. After a moment, a tranquil smile floats across his face. “Let’s talk about how to rein in our temper when it begins to spiral.”

The rest of the class passes in a blur, and I do as little as possible to avoid getting into trouble. Really, I’m trying to keep my eyes off Gabriel and stop playing his words over and over in my mind.

I don’t manage to get my teeth to retract for the rest of class.