Chapter 9: Forged in Blood: Chapter 7

Everything looks exactly the same as it did yesterday. There are still groups of students studying on the lawn. The same black-haired senior, wearing artfully torn jeans, stands beneath the maple in the quad and recites his poetry to a crowd of awestruck bystanders. Everyone laughing and talking and walking to class the same way they did the past few days, like they have no idea that vampires exist. That all those TV shows and movies aren’t fiction after all. And not only that, but they’re here on campus. Pretending to be students while preying on their peers and feasting on our flesh.

Are all the Ruby Dragon Society members vampires? Unlike most college sororities and fraternities, students have to be invited to pledge the societies. Which will never happen to me. I’m simply a nobody who ended up here because of a weird clause in the trust that was set up before I was born. For the past several years, I dreamed of escaping Havenwood, and now I’m stuck here for four more years.

A shiver runs down my spine as the memory of the girl from last night burns fresh in my mind. I recall her name now too—Rachel. She sits in the back of my English class with the popular kids, but I recognized her pigtails. Shame burns my cheeks at the realization that I didn’t think to check on her after I got back to my dorm last night. I was so relieved to be away from those blood-sucking creeps that I barricaded my door and crawled straight into bed. Not that I would have known where to find Rachel’s dorm, but I could have asked around.

I search the mass of students hurrying to class, trying to catch a glimpse of her. This campus is huge, and we only have the one class together. Dammit. What if she’s not okay? What if Axl hurt her or made her disappear? My stomach rolls, and I’m considering abandoning class to find Rachel with the pigtails when I see her up ahead.

Relief washes over me. At least she’s alive. That’s something, right? She’s surrounded by a group of girls, and they’re all talking animatedly. I wonder if she’s telling them about what happened last night. Will they even believe her? I mean, she’s popular and people tend to take note of the popular kids, but it’s pretty far-fetched to be bitten by a vampire.

I jog over, clutching my books to my chest. “Hey, Rachel.” I blow a strand of hair from my damp forehead.

She turns at her name, her brow pinched in confusion.

I take a deep breath. “I saw what happened last night.”

She blinks at me.

“With Axl? I totally saw everything. I can be a witness if you need one.”

Her top lip curls into a cruel sneer while the two girls on either side of her hold their hands to their mouths like they’re trying to suppress their laughter. “Ew! Were you spying on us? You freak!”

“What? No. I just …” My eyes drop to her neck, looking for evidence of Axl’s bite. What the hell? Her skin is completely blemish free.

“Perverted little freak!” one of the other girls says.

“No. I saw him bite you. I …”

Rachel’s cheeks turn pink. “Ugh. You were spying, you disgusting little pervert.”

“I wasn’t. I heard you scream, and I saw you behind Hermes Hall⁠—”

“Ugh. Screaming behind the fine arts building,” the other girl says with a snort. “Real classy, Rach.”

Rachel’s skin darkens to a mottled red. She marches forward a few steps and presses her pretty face up close to mine, her bubblegum-scented breath warm on my lips. “I don’t know what you think you saw, freakazoid, but Axl and I had a perfect date. He walked me to my dorm and we kissed. End of story, you lying little bitch.” She draws her arm back and slaps me across the face hard enough for tears to prick at my eyes.

I rub my stinging cheek while she and her friends strut away. They shoot me a final look of disgust over their shoulders before disappearing. Staring after them, I wrestle with my confusion and block out the people staring at me like I’m some kind of freakish circus act. I’m used to the insults they mutter as they pass me—or say outright if they’re particularly mean.

Tears burn behind my eyes, and I scrub at my cheeks with the sleeve of my sweater. How stupid was I to think that Montridge was a new start? There are no new starts for people like me.

Keeping my head down, I hoist my backpack up and stumble toward my first class. A fat droplet of rain lands on my eyelash and rolls down my cheek as I focus on how lucky I am to be here at all. College is usually only a dream for a foster kid with slightly higher than average grades. And it was a dream I never imagined coming true until my social worker discovered a college trust fund that had been set up by my parents before they died. There’s enough to pay my entire tuition to Montridge, as well as room and board. As soon as I have my degree, I can go somewhere completely new. Somewhere far away from Havenwood, where nobody knows or cares about ‘Opeelia’ Hart.

My college algebra class lets out, and I head for the library. Keeping my head down like I always do, I swear I feel his presence before I hear his voice.

“Hey there, sweet girl.” His breath dusts over the skin on the back of my neck, making a not entirely unpleasant shiver run the length of my spine.

Still, I huff in annoyance at him invading my space. “What the hell do you want, Malachi?”

He falls into step beside me, the goofy smile on his face so at odds with his appearance. He runs a hand over his shaved head and rests it on the back of his neck, drawing my eyes to the dark swirling mass of tattoos that wind around the thick column of his throat. The same ink adorns his hands and forearms and, combined with his tongue piercing, serves to give him an overall menacing appearance.

He runs his tongue over his teeth. Perfectly straight teeth with no hint of the fangs I saw last night. Maybe they’re retractable? Or maybe last night was merely a dream. I have so many questions, but I start with the one burning a hole in my frontal lobe. “How does he do it?”

Malachi frowns. “Who do what?”

“Axl. I saw him bite that girl last night. I saw it running down her neck. The blood.” He hisses at the mention of blood, and when I steal a glance at him, his green eyes glisten back at me. My stomach clenches, but I force myself to continue. “But this morning, there was no mark on her neck. Not even a scratch.”

“Vampire saliva contains healing properties,” he says with a casual shrug, like we’re discussing something as mundane as the weather.

My morbid inner geek shrieks with excitement. “It does? Like how? Can it heal any kind of wound? Like one from a knife?”

His laugh is so warm and unexpected that my breath catches in my throat. “No. Small puncture wounds and stuff. Our blood can heal much bigger wounds though.”

“It can?”

He shoots me an amused look, and I’m aware that I’m grinning like a moron, but this is way too fascinating to even bother curbing my excitement for. “So, if someone were to say—” I chew on my lip. “Get shot, and they were dying … Could your blood save them?”

He nods. “Theoretically, yes.” His eyes crinkle at the corners, and his lips twitch in a smile. Is he making fun of me, or is he actually being nice?

Don’t be so ridiculous, Ophelia! He’s a vampire. They are not nice. I ignore that fact and allow my curiosity to get the better of me once more. “You’ve never tried?”

A freshman I recognize from my history class almost barrels into me while catching a football, and Malachi grabs him by the shirt and pushes him halfway across the hall. “Watch it, asshole,” he says with a vicious snarl.

The freshman stumbles, then opens his mouth like he’s about to argue, but as soon as his eyes land on Malachi, his face goes pale. “Sorry, sir,” he says in a low whisper.

Sir? Well, now I have even more questions, but before I can ask them, Malachi takes me by the elbow and maneuvers me through the bustling crowd. As soon as we’re outside, I find my voice again. “Why did he call you sir?”

He tilts his head, hand still gripping my arm. “Do you always ask this many questions, sweet girl?”

I try to wrench my arm from his grip, but he holds firm. “Well, forgive me for being curious,” I say with a roll of my eyes. “But it’s not every day you get to meet a vampire.”

He glances around like someone just called his name, although I didn’t hear anything. Without looking at me, he sighs. “Pretty sure you’ve met plenty, Ophelia.”

“I have? So there are more of you?” His nostrils flare, and he grinds his jaw. “Hey, it was you who came to me in the hallway,” I snap, defensive. “I was minding my own business.”

He directs all of his attention back to me, but a frown is marring his features. He’s actually pretty handsome—pity he’s a vampire. “What?” he barks.

“You seem kinda pissed, and I said⁠—”

He mutters something unintelligible, cutting me off. Then he cocks his head, and when his eyes roam down to my tank top, I’m painfully aware of how my breasts strain the fabric. He licks his lips. “Where are you headed?”

“The library. Why?”

He glances around again. “Go straight there. Okay?”

This is the singular most confusing conversation I’ve ever had in my life. “Why?”

Our eyes lock, and his pupils grow wider, obscuring the vibrant green of his irises. “Just do it, Ophelia.”

I shrug out of his grip, and this time he doesn’t offer any resistance. “Well, I will. But only because I was headed there anyway. Not because you told me to.”

He gives a single nod of his head, his brow furrowed. Clearly, he’s still distracted by something.

“I guess I’ll see you around, then? No doubt skulking around the shadows looking for some poor unsuspecting hot girl to feast on.” I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from snickering at my own joke.

“Oh, you’ll be seeing plenty of me, sweet girl. Promise.” And with a wink, he’s gone. Leaving me to stare at his retreating back and wonder what the hell just happened.