“Jack has no self-restraint,” Rook shot back, apparently annoyed to be compared to the bastard. “The only reason he’s here and not in a cell or six feet underground is because his daddy pays people to look the other way when he slips up. He’ll be dead-dead before he hits fifty if he keeps it up.”

  “He’s fifty?” I asked, obviously surprised.

  “Almost,” Rook answered.

  I swallowed hard, because it begged the question: “How old are you?”

  “I’ve been a vampire for four hundred and fifty years. The point is: I can control myself.”

  I was silent, too shocked to form words. Four hundred and fifty years old? That meant Rook was older than Lorcan. A lot older. I felt like a kid in comparison. At eighteen, I hadn’t done much with my life yet. I’d barely traveled, had only dated a few boys, was behind on my magical education, and my sexual experience was nil.

  “You’ve been at Blood Rose all that time?” I asked, finding it suddenly strange that he hadn’t graduated.

  He looked at me and frowned. “Not all that time.”

  “But… I mean, I don’t mean to be rude but at your age… shouldn’t you have graduated by now?”

  He gave my comment a strange, little smirk and then it dropped right off his mouth. “Some of us aren’t that lucky.” Although that made zero sense, I could tell he didn’t want me to continue prying so I left it alone. Before I could say another word, he continued, “To answer your question, I’ll ‘wet willy’ it. There’s too much blood to risk trying to lick it all off.”

  All I could do was watch, dumbfounded, as Rook popped his thumb into his mouth, then brought the wet digit down onto my arm. An involuntary sigh of relief squeezed out of me before I could stop it. Anywhere his thumb touched, the pain receded. He had to repeat the process several times, stopping between each to clear his fingers of my blood. He seemed reluctant to taste even a drop, which made me think his control wasn’t as iron-clad as he wanted to pretend. He’d stopped breathing again.

  “You’re holding your breath again,” I said quietly after the fifth time he’d scrubbed his fingers clean.

  “You’re too close and we’re alone. If I smell you, I’ll want to taste you,” he said, voice dropping an octave as he held the jagged edges of my flesh closed. Some of the abrasions were small enough that they sealed with just a little help from his spit. The one on my right arm would need stitches, but with any luck, the rest of them would heal by morning.

  “Oh,” I said, not really sure what else to say.

  “I’m not Jack,” he continued. “I wouldn’t bite you. I’m better than that. But it’s been a long time since I’ve smelled witch blood. I forgot how much allure it has. Yours is very... fragrant. Spicy almost. It’s distracting.”

  “Hmm,” I started.

  “Don’t move around too much either. It makes the need worse.”

  I reached up and dabbed at the cut on my temple. It hadn’t been as bad as it first looked. Head wounds always gushed, no matter how severe they actually were. The worst of the dizziness and nausea had cleared when we were safely away from Professor Valserak’s classroom. My index finger came away slick with blood, and I held it out to him.

  “What are you doing?” he demanded, seeming irritated.

  “Taste it,” I answered.

  He frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  “Consider it a thank you for what you’re doing for me,” I answered with a shrug. “I’d give you more but at the moment, I need everything I have remaining.”

  He just stared at me. “You’re... you’re serious, aren’t you?”

  “I got over my vampire phobia years ago. I don’t care if you have fangs. It’s the jerkass persona that usually goes along with fangfaces that bugs me.”

  Rook’s eyes suddenly lit, bright and mischievous. Then before I even knew what he was doing, he swooped in, pressing his mouth gingerly to mine. I was so shocked, I couldn’t even make a sound. And before I could blink, he’d pulled away. I wasn’t even sure I would have termed it a kiss but it was sort of one. I mean… yes, it was definitely a kiss—it was his mouth on mine. But it was just so quick, I might have even considered it chaste if he hadn’t run his tongue over my split lip. A sound built in his throat, caught somewhere between a groan and a growl.

  “You could have warned me,” I said, a little breathless as he seized the needle. I winced when he pulled it through my skin. It didn’t exactly hurt, but I could feel it—almost like pressure.

  “Where’s the fun in that?”

  “The fun is where I don’t hex you.”

  “For stealing a kiss? I thought you said you’d give me a taste?”

  “I didn’t mean… like that.”

  “Well, that’s your fault for not explaining.”

  I’d have smacked his bicep if he didn’t have a needle poised over my forearm. “You’re an ass, Checkers.”

  “And don’t you forget it,” he said, finishing with a flourish. He tied the stitches off and snipped the remaining thread. “Now run back to your dorm, Ginger Spice, and stay there after dark from now on.”

  I stood, lifted my chin, and crossed my arms over my chest. He stood as well, eyes dipping briefly to my cleavage. We’d been forced to unbutton the white blouse so he could get to a cut on my collarbone. And now the heat in his eyes made me swallow hard. There was something about this guy, this vampire, that just made me feel all hot and bothered inside. I wasn’t sure exactly what it was—yeah he was hot. But there were a lot of good-looking students at the school.

  “And what will you do if I don’t?” I asked, trying my hand out at flirting.

  Rook leaned toward me, and I immediately sucked in a sharp breath when he nipped my throat. His fangs scored small lines across my skin, and he cleared the beads of blood that welled in the grooves with a flick of his tongue. It sent a jolt of mixed fear and pleasure down my spine.

  “The night classes are for night students,” he whispered against my ear as my heart pounded against my ribs and I realized with some irritation that I absolutely wanted him. I wanted him to turn his face back to mine and plant those lips back on mine.

  “I know that,” I started.

  “Prance around where you aren’t wanted, and someone, somewhere will think you want to join the club, Red,” he continued, his voice still gruff against my ear. “Don’t give them that chance, little witch. I don’t think you’ll like it much.” He pulled away and gave me a push toward the door. “Now go, before I start getting other ideas.”

  I already had other ideas but wasn’t about to say as much. Mainly because I was a little irritated with the way he’d just dismissed me. I staggered, caught myself on the bench, and had to fumble around in the dimness of the hall to find my bag. Then I turned my back on Rook and walked away, keeping my wildly racing heart in check. I was a Depraysie witch. I wasn’t going to let one arrogant vampire think he could run me off.

  This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

  Chapter Eight

  “Up,” Mads said in a short, clipped tone.

  The word was accompanied by a sharp prod between my shoulder blades. I groaned, trying to burrow under my pillow, hoping she’d go away, but no such luck. The first poke was followed by a second and finally a bruising third before I gave up trying to ignore her. If I was going to get wake-up calls in the morning, I’d request Elly do the honors. She was gentler.

  But when I finally lifted my head to peer blearily at my wind-up alarm clock, I was surprised to see I’d only been asleep for a few hours. I’d gone to bed around midnight, spending most of my non-working hours trying to conquer my mountain of homework. Every single professor had assigned homework that was due at the end of the week. It had ranged from easy (potions and history) to moderately challenging (practical application of witchcraft for Professor Vervain and Uncrossing and Other Defensive Magics with Professor Lavant.)

  But it was the Runecraft homework Professor Hecate assigned that had truly confounded me. I only had a shaky grasp on Elder Futhark, so I’d been playing catchup all night, trying to reacquaint myself with the runic alphabet. Mother used some Runecraft in her spells, but Wanda rarely bothered, preferring to rely on quick and dirty evocation to get the job done rather than use written spell craft. Quick evocation was good for productivity, but it was really biting me in the ass as I tried to catch up with my peers. My determination to beat Vivian in every subject was flagging. Maybe I’d beat her in every subject except Runecraft.

  “It’s three in the morning,” I said thickly. “Work doesn’t start for a few more hours.”

  “Aye, that’s true for everyone… except you, I’m afraid,” Mads answered on a sigh, like she didn’t like this any more than I did. “That Grimsbane girl has sent down a request for a dozen cupcakes.”

  “A dozen cupcakes?” I repeated, still too groggy to fully feel wrath towards Vivian the asshole.

  Mads nodded and sighed again. “Study snacks are included in some of the premium scholarships some of them students get. So… I ‘spose you could say it’s a given that a relative of one of the co-founders has such privileges.” She propped her weight from one hip to the other. “Anyhow… the order came in ‘bout two hours ago.”

  “Two hours ago?” I frowned, confused.

  “Aye an’ she’s sent them back three times, findin’ something to complain ‘bout every time. I figure it’s not the cupcakes that are the problem, just the messenger.”

  It took my muddled brain a second to put the words together with Mads’ weary and faintly disgusted expression. A jolt of anger roused me from my stupor then, and I sat up, muttering curses under my breath. Vivian was doing this on purpose. It wasn’t enough that this new schedule was going to keep me hungry and tired, she had to make it that much worse by forcing me out of bed in the wee hours of the night to deliver sweets right to her door. And if I didn’t smile while doing it, she’d probably send me back one more time.

  “Son of a bitch,” I grumbled.

  “Indeed,” Mads sighed for the third time. “I’m afraid them girls have it in for you, Astrid. I won’t blame you if you wanna request a meeting with the headmaster an’ get out of this blasted place tonight. It’d save you the embarrassment o’ havin’ to face any o’ them stuck up witches.”

  I considered it for a moment before shaking my head. I wasn’t about to let the Grimsbanes chase me out of school. This education would help me in the long run, and I wasn’t going to deprive myself of it because the elite witches in the school disapproved of my family, friends, and me.

  “I’m staying.”

  Mads gave me a smile. “You got a fire in you, girl.”

  I shrugged. “I’m a redhead.”

  The large woman pushed away from my bed and strode back the way she’d come. I pushed myself out of bed, then spent a few minutes hunting down a loose jacket and some slip-on shoes. There was no way in spell I was going to put on my full work or school uniform just to make one trip up to the dormitories. Vivian would just have to put up with me in my pajamas. I was at least confident mine were better than hers.

  Most of my wardrobe had been fashioned by Wanda, which meant it was made to my exact specifications and designed to make me look stunning. This particular nightgown was sleeveless and ended just above my knees. It was made of silk and a cornflower blue which went well with the fire of my hair and the paleness of my skin. The top was lace and didn’t cover much where my breasts were concerned.

  Since I wasn’t trying to impress Vivian, I threw on my puffy winter jacket and glanced down at the silk chemise. “Someday soon someone will see you,” I whispered to it. “I promise.”

  I had to admit that I’d bought the nighties and then enchanted them with the hope that they’d aid in a romantic encounter sometime during this school year. I’d been outstripped in the sexual arena by most of my mundane high school peers and was something of an outlier in witch terms, as well. Maybe I’d find a night class boy on my way back from delivering Vivian’s snacks and take care of the problem. That incubus who’d been hanging around Rook had seemed eager enough, and a tangle with a literal sex demon would be a memorable and pleasant first time, I imagined.

  But as I gathered up the chocolate cupcakes Mads had spent hours laboring over, I couldn’t shift my thoughts from Rook to his friend. If I was honest with myself, the demon wasn’t the one I wanted. As stupid and masochistic as it sounded, I didn’t want Klaus. I wanted… Rook. I wanted him to kiss me again. And a shameful little part of me wanted him to nip at my throat. I couldn’t say when the flip had been switched in my brain, but the terror of vampires had morphed over the years into more of a sort of taboo fascination with the undead.

  Though I’d been tempted, I hadn’t thrown myself at Wolfram, Erasmus, or Vicinte in the months since they’d moved to the Hollow. My newfound cousins, William and Amos, were the head of their clan, which meant the rest would turn me down, just to save face. I had the feeling most of them looked at me more like an annoying little sister anyway, which was a definite mood killer. And if Maverick or Wanda caught wind of my failed seduction attempts... well, a tongue lashing was the mildest thing I could expect. More likely I’d have been hopping around saying ‘ribbit’ until Wanda was certain I’d learned my lesson. But she wasn’t here, and now I was free to date anyone I wanted, even if said someone had fangs. As to my brother? Yeah, I didn’t really care what he thought.

  I was so absorbed with my thoughts that it came as a surprise when I stepped out into the upstairs hall. The sun had set hours ago, and the torches had been lit sometime in the interim. The corridor above the kitchens was empty, save for a pair of people talking in heated whispers beneath a stained-glass mosaic. I paused, not sure if I should interrupt them so I could ask for directions. Vivian hadn’t bothered with that part of the tour, knowing full well I wouldn’t be joining her in this part of the dormitory. The voices rose in pitch as I waffled, still trying to remain hidden. Both voices sounded familiar, though it took me a moment to place them.

  “I can find another teaching assistant if you insist on pushing this,” Professor Valserak hissed. “The headmaster was very clear. The students left of their own accord. Spreading wild conspiracy theories will only upset the other students and restrict your freedom in the bargain. Do you really want to risk that by feeding the rumor mill?”

  The figure across from Valserak shifted, bringing his profile into the light. The firelight glinted off his hair, bringing out the reds in the auburn waves. My heart beat a little faster when I recognized him. Rook. I hadn’t realized he was a teaching assistant, but given how long he’d been at Blood Rose, I figured it made sense.

  “It just doesn’t add up, Desmond,” Rook insisted. “Why would they leave after they worked so hard to be here? Something had to have happened to them. If you’d just humor me for once—”

  “That’s ‘Professor Valserak’ to you,” the professor said, cutting across Rook with a scowl. “I don’t care how old you are or who your sire was, I am still a professor at this academy, and you’ll show me respect.”

  “Fine, Professor,” Rook said, putting some contempt into the title. “Just humor me for a damned second, will you?”

  “Say what you mean to say.”

  “I don’t think this is a routine washout. Some of the students ‘left’ before the term even began. And that means something strange is going on, and I want to know what.”

  “So, you’re going to gainsay Headmaster Thorne?”

  Rook paused, seeming to weigh his words before answering, “Not necessarily, but... I just want to check. There’s no harm in that, is there?”

  Professor Valserak snorted, injecting scorn into the sound. “I’m not budging on this, Chesley. You’re out of my class for the night, and if you persist in this disruptive behavior, I’ll remove you from your position. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Perfectly,” Rook said coolly.

  Professor Valserak turned on one heel and began walking back up the corridor. I realized with a jolt of fear that he’d be passing my stairway in mere moments, where he’d no doubt discover me, crouching like a gargoyle, eavesdropping on the whole exchange. A demerit would be the least he could do. More than likely, he’d drag me to see Headmistress Grimsbane, who’d use it as an excuse to boot me through her closet mirror back to Haven Hollow.

  So, I stepped out from my hiding place, box of cupcakes clutched under one arm, scanning the corridor like a woman on a mission. The professor stopped dead a few feet away, eyes narrowing suspiciously as he took in my sudden appearance. Rook mirrored his posture, his face twisting into an unhappy frown when he spotted me in the middle of the hall.

  “You’re the girl Jack was prepared to drain,” Professor Valserak said after a moment.

  “Astrid Depraysie, vampire hors d’oeuvre,” I said as cheerfully as I could manage, even though my heart was racing a mile a minute—something both of them could hear, no doubt. I lifted the box so he could see it clearly. “Could you possibly direct me to the witch dorm?”

  Professor Valserak gave me another once-over, lip curling. “You could have asked the cook to send one of the staff if you were hungry, Ms. Depraysie. You’re out past curfew, which means I’ll be recommending a demerit to your professors. Get back to your room. Now.”

  “Oh, these aren’t for me,” I answered. “I have orders to get this box to Vivian Grimsbane.” I held out the box of cupcakes with a shrug, deciding I might as well try to get the professor on my side—or, at least, make him understand I wasn’t like other witches here. “Mads said Vivian has sent everyone else back in an effort to get me up there.”

  “Why is that?” he asked, still eyeing me narrowly.

  I shrugged. “She doesn’t like me?”

  “You’re one of her own kind,” he answered glaringly, as if it were impossible for one of my own kind to dislike me.

  “Yeah, she wouldn’t agree with you there,” I said on a laugh.

  “Astrid isn’t… like other witches,” Rook offered from behind the professor.