Chapter 14 _ Asher

Chapter Fourteen

Asher

Apparently, being stabbed and almost poisoned to death wasn’t enough to get me out of another day of class. Devon—correction, Father Sylvester—knew me well enough to anticipate I might try to use that as an excuse because he’d emailed me and copied all my professors, letting all of us know I would be back in class beginning that afternoon. And that if I missed one for any reason short of literal death, I would be spending the next two weeks paying for my insolence.

Real peach of a guy, that priest—ex-priest? I was still a little fuzzy on the details, seeing as how he was a vampire and all. It had to be pretty difficult to be a good shepherd to his flock when he wanted to eat them all. As far as I could tell, his vamp status made it impossible to participate in the ministries for which he’d been ordained.

Priest or not, you’d think spending three days in and out of consciousness half-naked in a guy’s bed would earn you some leniency, but nope. If anything, he seemed even more uptight than usual. Which was not boding well at all for me, considering that we had a session scheduled for this evening.

I groaned and snapped my laptop closed. Maeve looked over with a concerned lift of her brow.

“Something wrong, sweetpea?”

She’d been momming me ever since Cian brought me back clad in only his T-shirt. I’m not gonna lie; it was pretty nice having someone tuck me into bed and keep refilling my water or bringing me warm tea. I was totally fine, physically, after Cian sent what felt like the force of the Norse gods raging through my bloodstream. But I think letting Maeve take care of me made us both feel better about what happened.

She’d been really upset with herself for getting so drunk she’d ended up in one of SIN’s private rooms to sleep it off, leaving me unprotected. And I . . . well, I just wasn’t used to anyone caring for me like that.

I gestured to my computer. “Is the good father always this much of an asshole?”

Her second brow lifted to join the first. “Generally speaking, yes. Though, you’d have to tell me what he’s done to give you a more thorough assessment. I will say that he does seem a lot more snarly around you. Then again, so do most people.”

“Yeah, yeah. So you keep telling me.” I sighed and scrubbed my hands over my face. “He just said I have to go back to class today. Threatened me with punishment if I failed to obey.”

Maeve moved to stand behind me, affectionately rumpling my already listing ponytail. “Sounds like we should get you dressed and fed, then. You have weapons and defense with me this afternoon, and word on the street is Sanderson transformed the grove for drills and sparring training. Welcome to hell week, sweet cheeks.”

I groaned, folding my arms on my desk and dumping my head on top of them.

She stopped twirling my hair and chuckled.

“Are you really laughing at my misery?”

“No. Well, yes. I just realized your lover boy is in class with us.”

“Lover boy?” I asked, peeking over my arm. I hadn’t told her what happened with Cian the night before—I was still trying to figure out what the hell happened there for myself.

“I should say boys, plural. As in, all of them.”

That had me straightening and twisting around to look at her. “Excuse me?”

She started counting on her fingers. “Wolf, Viking, and Vamp. You’re going to be in a sandwich with the whole sexy trifecta.”

The thought of having to deal with one of them, let alone all of them, had my stomach twisting in knots.

“Is it too early to start drinking?” I asked, not totally kidding.

She tugged my ponytail, then stole my rubber band to tie her own navy-colored locks up. “Unfortunately, the dining hall doesn’t do alcohol, so yes. But if you hurry up and hop in the shower, I can braid your hair before we eat.”

Even though I groaned as I stood, there was no heat behind it. If I had to spend the day sparring with supernatural sex gods and listening to lectures on the tenuous nature of our Families’ politics, at least I’d have Maeve to do it with.

We’d just finished up with our meal—no buffet style here, Beastville had an actual waitstaff and daily menu for its students—when Jackson walked in.

My steps faltered, and Maeve immediately craned her neck to see what had brought me up short.

“Oh hello, Prince of Darkness,” she whispered under her breath.

“Don’t call him that.”

“Do you have a better name for him? Dark lover, perhaps?”

I tried to elbow her in the ribs, making her laugh as she sidestepped my blow. It almost distracted me from the fact that Jackson ’s presence caused crackling energy to snap through the room.

I hadn’t seen him since the stabbing. I remembered dancing with him. How his hands had wandered, and the way he kept trying to steal kisses but would purposely miss my lips until I’d been crazy with the need for him to just do it already. I remembered the taste of his blood as he forced me to drink, and how after the first taste, he hadn’t had to force me at all. And then . . . nothing.

Crickets.

He’d totally ghosted me.

I mean, we weren’t exactly dating or anything. But I thought maybe we were starting something. He’d made it pretty clear he was interested in me and then completely fell off the face of the earth. Granted, I’d been unconscious, and Jericho had mentioned how he’d told everyone to stay away. Still, I thought Jackson might care enough to wonder how I was doing, at the very least.

Our eyes locked across the room, and for a second, I thought maybe I’d misunderstood everything. Maybe he was just respecting Devon’s rules. I started to smile, my hand lifting in a little wave.

Then she walked in, and all my naïve musings exploded right in my face.

Any hint of emotion I’d thought I’d found in his eyes was gone. Hidden behind a mask of bored indifference as a stunning redhead, her skin creamy and perfect, slid her arm through his. Jackson barely spared her a glance, but the mystery girl gave him an adoring look as she trailed her other hand up his arm, leaving no doubts as to the claim she was making.

“Who is that?” I growled, not recognizing the sick, twisty feeling in my stomach.

Maeve ’s eyes narrowed. “Callista Donoghue. Resident queen bee and spoiled little bitch. Heir to the Donoghue family fortune, and—if she’s to be believed—fated mate of the one and only vampire prince himself, Mr. Jackson Hawke.” Maeve ’s expression shifted, and she gave me an appraising once-over. “You might want to steer clear of her until you get your wolf thing sorted. Callie can be a real piece of work.”

My brain was still stuck on the part about Jackson having a fated mate he’d never mentioned. He was promised to someone, and all the while, he’d been running around with me, doing what exactly? Making a fool of the new girl? Playing with the broken little wolf? What could he have possibly hoped to gain by starting something with me?

Maybe you were just supposed to be another notch on his bedpost. Why does it have to be any more complicated than that?

Thinking myself the world’s biggest fool, I forced my lungs to exhale and shook off the sense of betrayal that I had no right to feel. Then I tucked my arm through Maeve ’s and said firmly, “Come on, we’re going to be late.”

So far, weapons and defense class had turned out to be nothing but boring lectures about politics, peacekeeping, and the history of conflict between species. Vampires can turn nearly any creature into one of them but, unless they were human first, their victims rarely survive. Shifters can change at will, not just with the moon—spoiler alert, I knew that one. The fae can’t lie but are masters at bending the truth to fit their needs. Witches use elemental magic to harness their power and are thought to be the most dangerous of all. This wasn’t news to me, but it seemed to be important for Professor Sanderson to drive the reminder home, so we all were forced to listen. Until today.

“Where is Sanderson?” I asked as Maeve and I took our usual seats in the third row of the large auditorium-style lecture hall. Close enough to be seen and counted but far enough away to avoid the professor’s flailing arms during one of her impassioned speeches.

“Maybe she’s given up on us.” Cian’s voice came from behind, the feel of his breath on my nape sending a spark of attraction through me.

I couldn’t forget that kiss we shared, even if it was simply because we were locked in the heat of the moment, our combined energy needing something—somewhere to go. He trailed one finger across the bare skin of my neck and leaned close before whispering, “As much as I like it when you wear your hair up, you should reconsider. You’re vampire bait, showing off that pretty throat of yours.”

My gaze traveled across the room, as if pulled by a magnet, before it landed on Jackson . The vampire prince sat with one arm draped over the back of the chair next to him, legs spread, posture casual and sexy. His focus wasn’t on Callie, who sat next to him, nor was it on the other vampire talking to him. No. Jackson Hawke was staring daggers at me.

Heat blossomed between my thighs, and I had to clench them together in an effort to control the arousal I didn’t want to feel. The vampire’s nostrils flared, eyes burning as a slight smirk twitched the corner of his mouth.

“Fuck, if I was into dudes, I’d be so turned on right now,” Maeve muttered.

I swallowed past the lump in my throat and forced myself to look away from Jackson , especially when Callie slid her gaze to me and then ran her palm up his thigh. I didn’t know what drew me to him, aside from his vampire magnetism, but I had a literal Norse god next to me who made me smile and kissed me like I was the only thing he needed. What did it say about me that I was attracted to them both?

Before I could examine that any further, the door to the lecture hall opened, and Professor Sanderson strode in, her wild red curls resembling a fiery halo that frizzed out around her head.

“Oooh-weee, it must be mating season in here. You can smell the pheromones a mile away,” she said in her strong southern accent. She had to be from Texas or one of the other southern states in America. There was no denying her roots with that twang. “Now, come on, y’all. There’s fixin’ to be a serious fight brewing in these parts, and I need you ready. That means you need to be on your feet and heading for the locker rooms so you can change for some hand-to-hand training today.”

“Excuse me, professor?” Callie raised her hand, putting so much sugar in her voice I nearly gagged.

“Miss Donoghue?”

“What do you mean, change?”

Professor Sanderson looked her up and down, tutting as she took in Callie’s patent leather spike-heeled Mary Janes and tightly fitting, extremely short dress that was a parody of a schoolgirl uniform.

“You won’t get far in that, girlie. Vamp or not, your classmates will have the upper hand. Now, everyone go change. Your lockers are already set up with everything you need. Put on each piece you find in your locker, y’all.”

The class let out a unanimous groan, but we filed out, heading for the locker rooms. There wasn’t much different from a typical human school when it came to this space. Rows of benches, gray lockers, bad lighting, showers. Pretty much your standard fare. It actually left me with a sense of comfort. It leveled the playing field a little.

Callie walked past me with her bitches in waiting trailing behind. She huffed but didn’t say a word to me.

“What’s her problem?” I whispered as Maeve placed her palm on the center of the locker in front of her. A white glow emanated from inside before fading.

She opened the door and pulled out a black long-sleeved high-performance shirt, matching cargo pants, and a pair of combat boots. “She’s jealous. Jackson wants you, and he’s supposed to want her.”

“He wants to eat me. There’s a difference.”

“Oh, he wants to eat you, all right. That’s the problem.”

I blushed at the wave of heat that thought sent spiraling straight through me and shook my head. Following her lead, I placed my palm on the metal door in front of me, and the same thing happened. Opening the door, I found the same outfit Maeve was wearing waiting for me. We dressed quickly before folding our original clothes and placing them inside the lockers. Before I closed mine, Maeve stopped me.

“Don’t forget the amulet. Sanderson told us to wear everything.” She pointed to the pendant hanging inside the door. A simple disc suspended from a braided leather necklace.

Affixing the clasp, I instantly felt a weight on my chest and gasped at the heat coming from the pendant. “What is this?”

“I’m sure it’s got something to do with our assignment.” Maeve hooked her arm with mine. “Come on. Back to class. Let’s see what the old hillbilly has in store for us today.”