Page 44 of Forbidden Magic
“Err—what?”
“You’ve never been bitten.”
“Right. No, never.”
“It’s as good as they say…” He licks his lips, a hint of white catching my eye.
I can’t help but stare at his pointy fangs and swallow hard. His palm travels up my arm until it rests in the crook of my neck. A shudder slice right through me.
“God, I’d give anything to be your first,” he whispers so close to my face that his cold breath frosts over my cheek.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” I don’t know if I should be flattered or disgusted by the raw need rolling off his tongue. If we were talking about sex, I’d tell him off, but vampire customs are very intense when it comes to blood. This might be one instance where cultural differences added to Trent’s tendency for boisterous comments are muddled, so I play it off as a joke. But my heart is beating fast, a fire building in my belly, hidden by my jacket.
Drop-dead gorgeous Fae, smoldering vampires… This school is full of land mines.
17
Hunger
Divination is on the West Tower’s roof, and the cloudy night’s sky rumbles above our heads. Lydia, Allie and I huddle on one of the ten king-sized cushions. The soft, blue velvet under my palm sends goosebumps up my arms.
The six-foot-three teacher is incredibly attractive. Melanie warned us that his classes have become a flirt-a-thon. When teachers barely look older than students, crushes are bound to bloom. The horse shifter has a square jaw and bright blue eyes. The fitted black blazer and matching tie give off a stern executive vibe while his tanned skin, checkered undershirt and wild brown hair warms the look with a cowboy twist.
The round roof is surrounded by stone walls and turrets. A beautiful, perfectly transparent glass dome protects us from the wind.
Pixies giggle out front. Sprites play with their hair on the right.
The few boys that were brave enough to join us glower from the back. Olson is with them, holding his knees to his chest, and when our gazes cross, we both nod in greeting. He pries a pen and post-it from his bag and scribbles a few words. The yellow square appears in my lap a second later.
Can we talk after this?
With a brow arched in question, I throw him another glance and nod.
Jessa skips over to the boy cluster and sprawls in the middle. Olson’s eyes widen, and he runs his fingers against the shaved side of his head.
“What the hell?” I mouth silently.
But my mortal friend is now entranced by the sight of Jessa’s short skirt and plunging cleavage.
Mr. Brady claps his hands together. “Star reading won’t be possible tonight, I’m afraid. We’ll settle for something else. Who can list the various tools a seer uses to make his or her predictions?”
He closes in on us, and his gaze settles on Lydia.
“What’s your name, sweetheart?” On any other professor, the sugary tone would sound creepy, but since this one is a cross between an Olympic swimmer and a teenage heartthrob, I swear nothing that comes out of his mouth ever sounds creepy to a female ear.
My roommate squirms. “Lydia.”
He draws in a sharp intake of breath. “Lydia Hawks… It’s an honor.” He shakes her hand for too long and catches himself.
She clears her throat loudly. “Predictions can be based on something as trivial as a twig moving against the wind, but the most common tools used are cards, tea leaves, stars, palms, dreams, and the infamous crystal balls.”
Mr. Brady’s mouth stretches into a blinding smile. “Now, who can tell me why those methods aren’t as accurate as a star reading?”
“The reading is only as flimsy as the vessel.” Jessa’s dry but melodic voice cuts through my eardrums.
“Good work, Jessa.”
I crane my neck around. Her harem is still fixated on her. One of the shifters, Jamison, is massaging her feet. Olson looks transfixed, and I roll my eyes.
