Page 12 of Forged in Blood

“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 avampire.”

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.

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