Vampire's Kiss

“Your knife. You know, that big-ass Buck knife you have. I know you carry it around.” It was thick and serrated, and the last time I saw it, she’d been stabbing a Draug in the back, saving me. “Come on, farm girl.” I gave her a small smile. “You’ve faced worse than this.”

She furrowed her brows but, with a sharp nod, obeyed.

“Now do something with it.”

“What?”

“Do something with it,” I repeated.

She looked around as if she might find the answer inscribed on the worn upholstery of the student lounge couch. “Like what?”

“I don’t know. Clean your nails or something.”

The room had quieted a bit. Chatter still came from across the room, but I felt how a handful of Initiates had begun to watch us.

Emma mouthed the words, My nails?

I had to hand it to my friend—she really trusted me, and I loved her for it. I gave her an encouraging nod, and she began picking at her nails. I don’t know how she did it without drawing blood. It really was an ugly blade, looking more suitable for boar skinning than an impromptu manicure.

Trinity’s voice rang clear across the lounge. She was outraged. “Have you forgotten your place?”

I adopted an innocent tone. “So, cleaning your nails is forbidden now?”

One of the Initiates began to stand, and Trinity shot a brief look to stop her. She brought her attention back to me, stabbing her weapon deep into the arm of the chair. “Watch out, Acari. Because soon we’re going to finish what we started.”

Other weapons appeared in the Guidons’ hands—mostly blades, but some weird stuff, too. A needle-thin stiletto. Brass knuckles. One girl slid some arrow-tube-looking thing from her sleeve, and I made a mental note not to cross her.

I didn’t know where my guts—or stupidity—came from. All I knew was, I’d stood up to Guidons before and had been all but rewarded. Vampires appeared to be big fans of the whole survival-of-the-fittest thing.

“Promises, promises.” I eased my hand closer to the throwing stars I kept tucked in my boot.

Trinity didn’t like my bravado—I could tell by the way her porcelain cheeks flushed red. But her voice remained cold and even. “Maybe next time we’ll strip you completely naked. Unless the sight of you in your training bra scared the boys off for good.”

The other girls tittered.

“You’re seriously going that route again?” I pulled my shoulders back, sitting tall. I was not flat-chested. Not entirely. “At least I’m not a clench-jawed Connecticut poor little rich girl with the intellect of a Happy Meal and the heart of a virago.” I glanced at Emma. “It’s like if John Cheever had written horror.”

“The fuck?” Trinity was on her feet. “What the fuck does that mean?”

I bit my lips not to laugh. I’d known Trinity wasn’t the brightest bulb, and now more important, I’d just learned how much she hated it.

I sensed someone plop onto the arm of the couch. “Language, dollies.”

Amanda had appeared, but Trinity’s glower didn’t budge from me. “Whatever.”

Our Proctor scanned the room, taking in all the weaponry. The line between her brows told me she’d grokked what was going down. “Toys away.”

Emma complied, but the older girls only glared in challenge.

Amanda stiffened. “I said weapons down.”

One by one, all the sharp things were stowed away—however reluctantly.

“Brilliant.” She turned her attention to the Guidons, her attitude a sort of forced business casual. “I came for you third-years. Priti says class isn’t at the gym today. She wants us to meet her at the cove. Something about medium-range combatives. In the surf.”

There was grumbling as the girls dispersed. I was glad I was sitting, because I was sure a few of them would’ve shouldered me on their way out.

Amanda remained, standing over me and regarding me with a sort of stern appreciation. “Acari Drew, you have got to learn when to stand down.”

I nodded, but in my heart, I completely disagreed. All of this—the hazing, the posturing, even the flirting—was a part of some greater test. I was almost certain now.

Because there was only one group on this island who could demand total submission. And it wasn’t us girls.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“Walk with me,” Amanda said, shooing us off the couch. It didn’t sound like a request, and I hopped up, relieved to be dealing with an Initiate who wasn’t such a raging bitch.

Emma was more hesitant. “Not me. I have to catch up on reading.” She hefted her bag up as evidence.

I hoped she was right—that she did have work to do and wasn’t just making excuses to hide in her room.

Amanda gave her a weighty look. “Fine, dolly. I’ll talk to you later.”

I dropped my bag off in my room, and Amanda and I headed toward the small cove where many of our training exercises were held. The winding trail was gorgeous in a bleak, miserable sort of way, all craggy and rocky, the faraway water shimmering an eerie silver in the Dimming’s half-light.

I caught my toe on a rock, cursing under my breath as I stumbled. “Why don’t they just give us cars or bikes or something?” The cove lay about a mile down the coast, and, aside from the few SUVs the Tracers were allowed to drive, the sole mode of transportation was our feet.

“They’re an old-fashioned bunch, our vampires.” Amanda smiled, and it struck me how pretty she was, all angular lines, flawless dark skin, and shoulder-length dreads. Lately, her expression had been tight, but now that we were away from everyone else, she was relaxed enough to let a little of her true self glimmer through. I wondered how much of her tension stemmed from her relationship with Ronan.

We rounded a bend, spotting Masha and her crew about a quarter mile down the path in the distance. “Oh, fabulous,” I said, slowing down. “Maybe I should join you at the cove. Masha and her crew can waterboard me in the surf.”

“Don’t give them any ideas.” But then her smirking expression grew serious. “Look,” she said, slowing her pace to match mine, “you have a knack for trouble. And now you’ve caught the fancy of some real aggros.”

“I’d hoped my relationship with Alcántara would protect me.”

She stopped in her tracks. “That right there. That’ll get you killed.”

“But he’s shown me attention.”

“We’re discussing Alcántara.” She enunciated each word slowly and clearly.

I bristled. “I know whom we’re discussing. I might be younger than you, but I’m not a total imbecile.”

“I see.” But the tone of her voice indicated otherwise. “Dammit, Drew. I saw this coming. You have got to mind yourself.”

I had the nagging feeling that, despite her years on the island, Amanda still didn’t quite get it. “Don’t you think his attentions might, I don’t know, protect me?”

“Attentions?” She grabbed my arm, hard. “What attentions? Has something happened?”

“No,” I hedged, but she heard the hesitation in my voice.

“No, nothing happened, or no, you’re not going to tell me?”

Her fingers were cutting into my arm, and I flinched away. “Fine,” I admitted, rubbing my arm. “I think he almost kissed me.”

She glared, so I rambled on in my defense. “Seriously, Amanda, I think the fact that he likes me might protect me.”

“Bollocks.”

“Bollocks nothing,” I said, my tone as sharp as hers. “I’m serious. I think it’s worthwhile to operate within the system.”

“You can succeed here without kissing any vampires.”

We’d reached a fork in the trail. A smaller, rocky path unfurled below, leading to a thin stretch of beach. A half dozen Guidons were already there, doing wind sprints on the sand and push-ups in the surf, looking generally badass.

Movement in the water caught my eye. It was Ronan, surfing. I felt Amanda notice him at the same time, and we watched silently for a pregnant moment. The waves were big today, not foamy and choppy, but crisp swells colored a deep gunmetal gray in the sunless daylight. He’d caught a big one and was riding it into shore. It was like witnessing grace and power combined.

Amanda marveled. “Bloody fantastic, isn’t he?”

As he reached the breakers, he dove off his board into the surf. He emerged from the waves, carrying his huge longboard as though it were merely a bit of driftwood he’d snatched up.

“Yeah. He’s something.” I tore my eyes away. He belonged to Amanda, whereas all I had was a vampire with a bruise fetish.

Childish, sure, but it annoyed me. Also annoying was how she was treating me like a silly schoolgirl who didn’t know better. I spoke without thinking. “Maybe you should be careful of your relationships. Maybe you should operate within the system a little more.”

She glared at me. “You presumptuous little slag. Where the hell did that come from?” She took a step back, as if she couldn’t stand to be near me. “I’m not sure what you think you know, but Trinity was right. You forget yourself. Just because I’ve been friendly doesn’t mean that I’ll put up with your nonsense, or go out on a limb for you, or really, that anyone will. There are no teams here. No alliances. You are alone. So time to start guarding your tongue and minding your business.”

Ronan had spotted us and was headed up the path. “Ladies.” His tentative greeting matched the question in his expression.

“Ladies yourself. This one’s all yours.” Amanda brushed past him, storming down to the beach.

“Wait,” he called to her.

After a beat, Amanda did, but with a huff. She held her shoulders tight and hands fisted. She seemed super pissed. I must’ve really hit a nerve.

Ronan reached behind his back and pulled the toggle of his zipper, unpeeling the top of his wet suit. The muted light cast charcoal shadows along muscular arms and broad shoulders. Not knowing where to look, I decided simply to pay extremely close attention to his fingers digging in a hidden pocket, because watching his hand was an entirely different thing from checking him out, right?