Page 14 of Merciless Prince
My shoulders sagged with relief.Duh.The faint voice I heard was saying ‘hey’, not ‘Shay’. Just a random guy politely alerting me to his presence so I didn’t scream and jump a mile when he walked by me in the fog.
“Oh,” I said, cheeks flushing with warmth. I felt like a total fool. “Well, um… have a good night.”
“Yeah, you too.” The guy turned and walked away.
I returned to my original path, still blushing over the cringeworthy incident that had just occurred. Why the hell had I thought someone was stalking me around campus on my first day? That was nuts. Who would want to stalkme, and why?
Sure, I was an actress, but I wasn’t famous. I’d only done a bit of theater, a few TV commercials, and a couple of bit parts in daytime soaps. My most recognizable role was probably a toothpaste commercial I booked six months ago, which ran on TV for two months and also featured on a few digital billboards.
No one wanted to stalk the freaking toothpaste girl.
I let out a snort of self-deprecating laughter as I turned toward Rosewood Hall. I couldn’t wait to tell Cori—and possibly our new friend Cooper—the story over dinner. I’d look like a total idiot, but at least we’d all have a good laugh.
When I neared the stairs on the south end of the residential hall, the hair on my neck and scalp suddenly prickled. Once again, I was getting the distinct feeling in the pit of my stomach that I was being watched.
Not this again,I silently chided myself, rolling my eyes upward.No one is looking at you.Still, I started to walk faster, turning my head over my shoulder every few seconds to check out the area behind me.
Just as I expected, there was no one there. No one was stalking me from the shadows or lunging at me with a machete.
I was perfectly safe.
5
Shay
I wrappedmy hands around my giant mug, letting the steam rise up to warm my face. I’d recently discovered that no one in Bellingham did better coffee than the place I was in right now—Trattoria Ilaria, a little Italian café that stood near the end of the town’s main strip.
Across the table, Cori, Cooper, and our new friend Leah—a super-smart software engineering student who lived in the dorm next to Cori—were engaged in a debate about whether it was better to stay on campus after this year or try to rent a place somewhere off-campus.
“The town is so small. I’d be surprised if there are any rentals that aren’t already taken,” Leah said, dark brows rising. “Anyway, what’s the point of leaving? Living on campus is like living in a resort.”
Cori nodded. “Exactly! The rooms are huge, the views are amazing, and the food in the dining halls is good. And free with our tuition, I might add.”
“Yeah, but there’s way less freedom,” Cooper said, throwing his hands up. “Can’t have our lights on past two in the morning. Can’t have guests. Can’t play music whenever you want.”
“Try telling that to the guy above me,” I grumbled, recalling Killian’s little housewarming party from a couple of weeks ago. A little pang of envy bit at my guts as I remembered the girls I saw in his room and wondered if he hooked up with any of them.
Before anyone could ask what I meant, another friend of ours walked into the café. Her name was Faye, and she was a fine arts student. I met her during my first week of classes when she accidentally went the wrong way while searching for a particular lecture theater.
“Are you okay?” I asked, brows rising as I took in her pale face and bruised left arm.
She pressed her lips into a thin smile and nodded. “I feel like a pincushion, but yes, I’m fine,” she said, brushing her curly red hair over her left shoulder as she sat down. “Sorry I’m late, by the way.”
“What happened?” Cori asked, leaning over to look at her arm.
“There was a blood donation van outside my class,” Faye explained. “I thought I’d pop in and do a quick donation, but apparently my veins are trash. They had to poke me seven times just to get one, and then I almost passed out. I guess my body hates being altruistic.”
Cori grimaced. “Yikes.” Her eyes flickered over to me. “When was the last time we donated blood? It’s been a while, right?”
I stared down at my mug, watching the milky froth dissolve. “High school,” I said softly. “Senior year.”
More specifically, it was February 17th, 2016.
Usually I wouldn’t recall an exact date for such an innocuous thing, but there was a good reason I remembered everything about my last blood donation.
The day it happened was a day like any other at first. A teacher told us there was a Red Cross donation van outside the school, and they were hoping for healthy students to donate due to a city-wide shortage of O-negative blood. I headed down there after class with Cori and our other friends, Rumer, Ashleigh, and Dionne, and we all rolled up our sleeves.
The very next day, I got a thank you letter from the Red Cross, along with a little plastic card to keep in my purse that showed my blood type. Apparently, I was AB-negative.
