Chapter 8
Eight
Of all the forms I can shift into, it’s always the smaller ones that annoy me the most. Only because it takes immensely more concentration and power to transform my body.
Larger animals and creatures – no problem. But the second I need to shift into something smaller than a wolf expect a five minute delay and my grouchy ass.
Varian will be getting the brunt of it. This was his favor asked, and I am even more annoyed because it was the first thing he said to me after being gone for a decade.
I was expecting a banquet, frilly flowers, food and wine, my favorite devil, and catching up on all the same bullshit of the last ten years.
Instead, I find my friend of over two centuries grumbling and snapping about the Mage Board and bloodsuckers and there’s not even a hug before he asks me to go spy on someone.
Slithering around the corner of the dorm house, I pause beneath overgrown grass and watch as four people make their way out. Three females and a male. Two water mages, a vampyr, and what is supposed to be a vampire.
There’s no way this is her.
The vampire the Mage Board allowed into the school after passing an exam not even I can pass one hundred percent. Who is able to somehow eat regular food and needs sleep but doesn’t have bloodlust despite being turned into a vampire two months ago.
I can scent each of the students. Vampires smell like rot. Like decay, as something that was dead should be, but her. . . she smells like an impossibility.
Maybe Varian is right and she’s a spy. She could be a vampyr or a blood demon, since she needs blood just as much as regular food. Though Varian did say when she was exposed to sunlight she did burn.
I wonder if Thorne has already tried her blood. I haven’t been able to speak to him or Darian yet as I came here right after seeing Varian, but I will need to. Because she does not smell like a vampire.
Following after them, I stick to the taller patches of grass along the walkway and shift my scales to blend in better.
I’m sure they’re headed to one of many parties being thrown.
It’s a Syngenia tradition. It’s been happening for as long as I can remember, both as a former professor and former student.
Not that she specifically looks like she’s going to a party. Her friends do. The water mages dressed in short dresses and the vampyr in relaxed clothing. Even with it still being warm, she’s wearing pants and a turtle necked long sleeve.
I wasn’t able to see her face when she walked out, but the attire does not scream party. At least not for Syngenia’s standards. But I have been gone for a decade, maybe something has changed.
All of a sudden, she stops. Her long hair that reaches her hips dyed with highlights of dark blue and soft pink swaying with the motion. I stop too, waiting along the edge of the walkway and coiling my body together to keep from being seen.
It must not help because she turns around and looks directly at me. And fucking gods, Varian did not tell me how pretty she is.
No. Pretty isn’t even a good enough description. She’s. . . otherworldly. Captivating, ethereal, magnetic.
Pale pink eyes lock on my golden serpentine ones. Since I had been on the edge of the walkway I had changed my body to a grayish white color to match the stones with ripples of faded green to mimic the shadows from the grass blades.
I wonder how she was able to tell I was here. I don’t give off any energy or aura when I’m shifted as a regular animal, and I’m too small for instincts to feel a threat lurking by.
Her lips part as she kneels down and peers at me. Those pink eyes are framed by black eyeliner and long lashes. There’s a rosy hue over the bridge of her nose and cheeks with a light dusting of freckles. Those lips that had parted are painted a cool toned red and they shift into a soft smile.
“Well, hello there,” her coos. She extends her hand out slowly and cocks her head.
Her friends are looking at her like she’s crazy.
“Uh, Mavyn,” the one with longer curly white hair calls. Varian did tell me that was her name. Mavyn Tsuki. “I don’t know if you know this but snakes in Syngenia tend to be venomous. It would probably be best to leave it alone.”
She hums but doesn’t pull her hand back. Inching forward, I watch each micro expression she makes.
“You forget, Jullia,” she calls softly, “I have literal poison running in my veins. A little venom won’t hurt me.”
Her friend looks like she doesn’t believe her, but intrigue and curiosity peak as I slither up to her. Stopping right before her hand, I lift my head up and rest in a position cobras tend to be in right before they strike.
I wonder what she means by that. Poison running through her veins. Does she mean the vampire’s venom? If so she would have said venom, not poison, and even then she also said my venom wouldn’t hurt her anyways.
She relaxes more as I nudge my nose to her fingers. Flicking my tongue out, I taste her skin and blue belladon explodes in my senses. A flower that can kill even the highest celestials.
Arching over her hand, I begin curling up around her arm. My body gliding easily over the material of her shirt, though I would prefer to have skin on skin contact. I want more of that taste, of that poison that kills all but tastes like magic.
Once the entirety of my foot long body is around her wrist and forearm, she cradles me and stands. Turning back to her friends – all of whom are watching her like she’s crazy – she chuckles at them.
“Like when an extract of blue belladon is mixed with rucksile to act as a super healing tonic, extracts of straight blue belladon act as taming and calming aromas for some reptiles and arachnids. I had a pet viper at the brothel.”
A brothel?
Had she been working there before she was turned? If she had been turned? I still don’t understand how she can smell this good and be a vampire.
The vampyr nods. “I remember reading that in my text books when we were learning about poisons and venoms last year. Though it would still be best to put it down and leave it here. Just because blue belladon can calm snakes doesn’t mean they won’t bite.
And Jullia’s right, this isn’t Earth. Snake’s here have stronger venoms.”
She takes her other hand and strokes a finger over my head. Her friend who spoke first speaks again.
“There are also snake shifters, Mavyn. For all we know that could be a. . . yuh know. . .” She makes bug eyes at Mavyn and does a gesture with her hands. “. . . Thorne’s lacky.”
She chuckles again as she raises her arm so my face is level with hers. Her pinky eyes look a little bit more vivid now.
“The smallest any shifter can shift to is a regular house cat,” she states.
“Unless it’s a child, any adult who tries to will either break their body or mutilate it so badly that they can’t shift back.
Ana told me that once, and Nana backed it up.
It’s not possible for shifters to shift this small. ”
She pulls her arm back down and starts walking.
“And what if it’s not a shifter?” her friend asks. “There is someone I’ve heard of who can shift into animals as small as bugs.”
The other water mage scoffs. “Please, Jullia. Castiel D’etre hasn’t been seen in like. . . ten years. Why would he come back just to spy on Mavyn? I highly doubt Thorne or even the Mage Board cares enough about Mavyn’s poisoned blood and all her anomalies to get him to come spy on her.”
The girl, Jullia, grunts. “I’m just saying it’s a possibility. Thorne is already acting like a psychopath about all of this.”
“Actually,” the vampyr interjects, “Darian would be more like the psychopath. Thorne is cold and calculated, but he’s not as apathic as Darian.”
“That’s the angel?” Mavyn asks. She’s still stroking my head and her warmth has me curling tighter around her.
“Yes,” the vampyr answer. “He’s also the Breath House president, but he’ll be at Stone House tonight. I haven’t seen or spoken to any of them since this morning but both Darian and Callahan were at Stone House last night so I assume they’ll be there again. Hopefully nothing actually happens.”
“You think your bone witch’s blood will be enough?” the water mage asks. And shock vibrates through me at that. There’s only five witches I know of who still exist on Miy, and I know there’s a couple on Earth, but for a vampire who’s only recently been turned to know one. . . ?
“It should be. Nana said blood demons would run from bone witches, even if they were on the same side. It’s an instinctual fear passed down for thousands of years.
” She shrugs. “If he doesn’t care then I’ll threaten his morality.
Instinct can be overruled, but you can’t go against your spirit and soul. ”
The vampyr hums. “I forgot about that. Blood demons can’t drink the blood of anyone who says no and can’t coerce them after either.”
“Yup. Though that doesn’t stop the other celestials from trying or simply taking my blood and offering it to Thorne before I can say no, so hopefully Nana’s blood will do the trick.”
How very curious. She doesn’t sound like a spy, but she definitely does have secrets.
“Well,” Jullia says a bit more cheerily, “then I guess let’s hope for the best. And Mavyn, you are not bringing that snake back into the dorm room. It may not bite you, but I’m not going to risk it not biting me.”
Mavyn sighs and peers down at me with a sad expression. “Just for tonight then. I don’t have any means of getting you food either. Maybe if you feel up to it you can bite Thorne for me.”
Someone snickers but she only curls those red lips at me and what I would give to not be in this form but still wrapped around her.
“We’re here,” the vampyr calls. And then her scent shifts. It gets a shade stronger.
A shade more deadly.