Page 91 of Dead Wolf Walking (Bad Moon Academy 1)
He growls. “You’re a fucking brat.”
Winking as I finish the drink, I lift a shoulder to sayI can’t help it.
“Next time you’ll have to be more specific,Professor.”
His eyes darken, and he steps closer. “It’s like that, huh?”
“I don’t think I stuttered.” I frown. “Did I stutter?”
“Do you always use your mouth—”
Someone bangs on the door, interrupting him mid-sentence. “Raven Goddamn Blueberry, open this door this instant,” Morg practically shouts from the other side.
“Just as it was getting good,” Everett says with an apologetic grin. He opens the door, crossing his arms and staring Morg down.
She lowers her gaze, and her cheeks pinken. “Sorry, Everett. I came to see if Raven was okay.”
He steps aside so she can see me. “She’s fine. Is that all?” he asks with a little more bite than necessary.
Huffing, I shove off the bed and stand next to him, grinning at Morg. “Excuse the professor, he’s grumpy in the mornings.” To make my point, I reach up to tweak his nose.
“Raven, you’re heading toward detention.” Everett snatches my wrist and holds on to it for a second before releasing me.
Morg’s eyes bug out of her skull, and her mouth drops open.
“Thanks for the coffee,” I say before grabbing her arm and dragging her toward the stairs. I have no idea where Everett’s room is in relation to mine, but Morg doesn’t correct me, so I assume I’m going the right way.
“You’re totally banging him,” she says once she finds her voice.
I laugh. “No, I’m not.”
“Why not? Moons, I would be if he talked to me like that.You’re heading toward detention.” She deepens her voice on the last part, imitating his growly reprimand.
“Ugh, stop it. I haven’t had enough coffee to deal with bubbly Morg.”
She elbows me. “Fine, but I want to know how the hell you ended up in his bed. Oh, and you’re about to be late to your first class.”
Crap. We’re passing the stairs and heading down my wing.
Too bad Everett’s room is so far away.
Nope. Bad Raven.
We’re not doing that.
Well, at least not yet.
I drop Morg’s arm and rush inside my room, taking off Everett’s shirt and throwing on a random one of mine sans bra—nobody has time for that when you’re late—and yanking on some soft jeans. Good enough. I shove my feet into my Converse, which are neatly placed by the door.
Weird, I didn’t leave those there.
There’s no time to figure out how they got back here after shifting in the ballroom. My bedside table reads seven-fifty-eight. My first class is at eight. I’m not trying to impress anyone, especially not after what Carter told me, but I would rather not gain the wrath of some self-righteous professor—Ms. Fig—who thinks their time is worth gold. Besides, knowledge can be as much a weapon as a gun or a knife.
Morg walks me to class and makes me promise to find her later to tell her everything. She’ll be disappointed when she hears nothing really happened.
* * *
After another unsettlingclass detailing all the ways vampires infiltrate human society, have their own blood banks to bottle blood, and brutally kill their enemies, I head back to my room for a quick shower. I didn’t have time earlier, and I’m sure I stink.
