Chapter 6 #2
From the limited interactions I’ve had with him he seems like a deranged psychopath who likes pain. He didn’t like me referring to him as the sun devil. There was a solemness to him when it was realized why he looked so much like the sun devil as well. Maybe he isn’t a complete psychopath.
The training arena is straight ahead and yet I still hesitate.
Jullia and Asher have said the fourth and fifth years who are primarily going to be soldiers and warriors have been getting hammered on by Varian and the demigod.
Their training more rigorous after the attacks.
Though the rebels have been radio silent all across the country after the last battle.
Asher had fist bumped me saying I was the reason. They were all terrified of the red-eyed force who delivered a death blow so severe it fractured the earth throughout the eastern field. It took both earth and nature mages a whole month to even make the field walkable again.
Supernova.
But the extra training just means there are a lot of people training right now.
Ms. Elaycia opened an account for me and linked it to my tablet so I could start buying things without having to work.
It’s technically my money, but I did tell the head of the cleaning crew I could still take shifts if he needed me to.
I was front faced turned down. Though he did thank me for saving the school, he said he didn’t really need another member on the crew.
It’s left more time for me to study – which is what I have been doing the last three days because of the two months I missed. I should be studying still, but that need to hit something overrides it. And while I should walk into the arena, I’m still hesitating with my eyes glued to Breath House.
Making a half-second decision, I start heading towards the front door.
For all I know he isn’t even there, but at least I tried.
If he isn’t then it’s a sign I should probably find someone else.
It’s not even necessarily finding someone who’s okay with putting me in pain, but it’s also trusting them with my secret.
It’s a weakness that can be used against me, and my blood tastes like the most addicting thing in the universe – even to those without fangs.
If he’s here, he’s here. If not, that’s my sign.
I keep repeating that as I approach the front doors. I made sure not to even glance at Stone House and ignore the few eyes still out and watching me.
I’ve only been into one society house and I mostly ignore all the things Asher says about the lifestyle. I never cared about the hierarchy or events or inner workings. Maybe I should have paid more attention because I’m not sure if I can just walk in or if I should knock. . .
Do I need an invitation? Is there a passcode? Is it weird that there’s no party and I’m a girl walking into a boys society house?
I blow out a breath at those thoughts because no way is there as much fucking in the dorms and not any in the houses. College kids’ sex drive is something that should be studied.
Deciding I have no idea what to do or what the customs are. . . I do what anyone else on Earth would. I knock on the door. To which I get no response.
I try again, this time harder as the last bit of sunlight fades with the sun dipping past the tree and mountain line. Maybe they just didn’t hear me. . . or maybe I’m an idiot. Probably the latter.
I’m about to just spin around and hightail it back to my room when a group of guys start approaching. One of them I recognize as the vampyr I had met my first day. The one who simply gave me my things without the territorial bullshit. Side note – my fangs would have smoked that red-headed bitches.
His russet colored eyes rove over me as his friends all stop to stare awkwardly.
None of them are wearing their uniforms so I have no idea which years they are or what exact races they are.
Russet eyes should be a vampyr since he was at their table when I got my tablet, but now that he’s standing I notice his height and sharp features.
His bone structure cutting and angular in a way I have a feeling makes him some sort of shifter instead of vampyr.
I could be totally off because of any race, shifters are the most mortal of the non-mortals with a shorter lifespan and very few born magics so they’re harder to figure out. Most of what they can do are types of learned magics.
His aura isn’t much help either – which leads me to think he’s most definitely some sort of shifter.
Shifters are harder to distinguish from humans, but since there are no humans here it’s easy.
Twining and twisting small wisps of aura coiling around him a color more brown than his eyes.
Sort of copper colored instead of russet.
“Can we help you?”
His voice is quiet but not necessarily low. There’s a richness about it that feels like fog tumbling over a woodland floor. Some sort of woodland creature?
“You’re not a vampyr,” I say, instead of asking about entering the house. The shifter cocks his head in a way that tilts his chin up. The move has a very predator type look about it.
“Why would you assume I’m a vampyr?”
Oh the irony about that question. It makes the corner of my lip tick up. I’m pretty sure I said something along the lines before.
I nod in acknowledgement. “I shouldn’t have assumed, but you had been sitting at the vampyr table at move-in day. Still, that’s not an excuse.”
He hums and then looks towards the door. I take the hint and curl my fingers into my palm with only my thumb out to jut towards the door. “I need to talk to Darian Kyros.”
Not a single feature twitches even though his friends shift and side-eye each other. From their auras I’m sensing mages, fae, and some sort of demon – though he’s young. . . or timid. His aura jittery and he looks like he’s trying to shrink himself. Those were not assumptions, either.
Noticing my stares and probably my facial expression, russet eyes clears his throat to gain my attention back. “You faced the Kolasi as a first year vampire. Everyone is grateful, but we’re all a little spooked by you.”
I relax my shoulders and take half a step back. I rub my palms that have started to sweat on my leggings as I glance back at the demon. “Sorry.”
He chuckles nervously to himself and grips a hand to the back of his neck. “Eh. . . you saved us all. Without you we’d probably all be dead so. . .” He shrugs. “It’s just intimidating.”
I look back at russet eyes who almost looks like he’s grown taller. “Well. . .” What do you even say to that. Thanks. . . ? Sorry. . . ? I clear my throat and point my thumb back to the door. “So. . . Darian? Can I just walk in or do I need like, an appointment?”
Russet eyes shoves his hands into the pockets of his slacks. He’s in a collared white shirt with the sleeves rolled and a dark brown sweater vest. Very autumn academia vibes. It ties in with his dark chocolate colored hair though his skin is paler than I would imagine.
Then he takes a step towards the double doors and they open automatically the closer he gets. As if they sense him and are welcoming him. His friends hesitate a second before the demon gestures inside.
“After you.”
I follow them in with the demon behind me and take a second to look at the architecture. It feels mostly the same as Stone house, though there are brighter hints of white and silver. More glass and crystal and clear diamond where Stone House has, well, stone.
Russet eyes glances back and jerks his head. “Follow me.”
His friends head to a different side of the house and the closer I get to the shifter the more forestry scents I get. But it’s not forestry like Callahan’s cedar scent is – his is more like the myths that are spoken about the Appalachian mountains. With skinwalkers and wendigos and smoke wolves.
The deeper we get into the house the more I get a sense of something lurking. Chills pebbling my skin and a feeling like I should run even though I know I’m already snared. I side-eye the shifter and ponder about what kind of creature he can shift into.
He side-eyes me right back and in his lowly rich voice echoes, “Try not to burn down his rooms if you can. It would be us who would have to clean up the mess afterward.”
The dry humor has me surprised and that sense of foreboding disperses. I realize now that’s one of his born magics. Not necessarily empathic magic, but very curious.
I rock my head to the side and pretend to think it over. “I’ll try my best.”
He chuckles coldly before stopping at the end of the hall to double doors. “Good luck. . . vampyr.”
Then without another word he turns and leaves.
I wouldn’t be surprised if word had already gotten around about me not being a vampire, but he had already said vampire before.
Even Jullia didn’t know until this morning when she stood in front of me with her arms crossed and a firm expression.
In a very scolding, motherly voice she demanded I tell her what I am.
Asher had been trying not to laugh behind her on her bed and I gave him a ‘what the fuck’ look.
After it all she turned to Asher and laid it on him because he had known – or at least he knew I wasn’t a vampire.
It wasn’t just him tasting my blood and tasting the blue belladon within, he could taste my true blood.
In the end he said it wasn’t his secret to tell – to anyone – and then when Jullia wasn’t looking gave me a look. I get the feeling he had wanted me to reciprocate considering he also had a secret I knew about because I had tasted his blood.
Well. . . that’s something I can worry about tomorrow when I go to classes. For now, I lift my loose fist and knock on the light-colored wood. It looks like birch, but since this isn’t Earth it could literally be anything.
I can’t hear anything behind the door except for a click of a lock before one of the doors swings silently open.
I regret this for a moment. I’d have to trust him – which I absolutely do not – both with my body and my secret. I don’t need anymore people at this school to know.
Icy blue eyes meet mine and for once I don’t brace when I initially look at him.
I don’t brace because I can feel aura filling my eyes and slowly crawling across my shoulders.
Despite the fact that I haven’t unlocked any keys or opened any doors, the aura I simply have should not be as contained as it is.
He doesn’t move at the display. Frosty white hair with silver shot through mussed and almond eyes narrow. He’s currently shirtless with only a pair of gray sweatpants on. And there are scars littering his entire chest.
Pale white, straight and jagged. Numerous scars.
“What do you want?” he drawls, though not rudely.
Panic flares and that regret hits again. I should have just stuck with asking Hanna first, or begging Callahan. When I brought up the idea lightly he immediately shut it down. Ever the overprotector and wanting to only protect me and keep me unharmed from here on out.
It gets suffocating. Which is why two days ago I had placed my protection barrier over the door again to keep him out since he still had my key. I’ve been surviving just fine off my blood bags and Jullia sneaking in some snacks when Callahan wasn’t loitering by the door.
No.
It’s either this or nothing. I just need to make sure he doesn’t go tattling to anyone.
“Are you actually Thorne’s winged bitch or can you think for yourself?”
Something in his eyes darkens as I process what I just said and wonder if I should just go jump off a cliff now. That was. . . I just. . . no words come out of my mouth because my lips won’t part to let them.
Darian comes for me and I’m pretty sure I’m dead now.
His hand wraps around my neck as he shoves me against the wall beside us like Thorne had done during that party from what feels like forever ago. The only difference is there are no poisoned embedded daggers soaring towards him.
I wait for my body to brace even though I know he isn’t the sun devil.
I wait.
But like when I first saw him after he opened the door, I don’t brace. And then I bare my teeth at him because why the fuck is his hand wrapped around my neck.