Page 7 of Locked

“It's okay. He didn't suffer. I don't think he did anyway. Actually, maybe ask the twins,” I say with a laugh, looking down at my blood-covered white shirt, before leaving her frozen in her place to join the rapidly building food line.

Quickly getting a sandwich and a black coffee, I find one of the only vacant tables, but as soon as my ass hits the seat, a loud whistle sounds from a few tables over. My eyes zone in on the two of them sitting at a table by themselves, both polar opposites and yet so similar at the same time.

Smiling sweetly, I stare straight into the blond brother's eyes and flip my middle finger up before taking a bite of my lunch. His gaze drops to my mouth, watching intently as I take each bite. His eyes feel like they are devouring my soul; a heavy pull from the pit of my stomach increasing every time I risk a glance at him.

I chance a look at Bale, who is staring at something in his lap with a scowl while one of his large, tattooed hands taps the tabletop in a steady rhythm that seems to gain momentum the longer my eyes linger. He’s intense, and without even looking my way, I can feel his darkness rolling over me, forcing goosebumps to form across my skin.

Shifting my focus, I look down at my half-eaten sandwich and open my mouth to take a bite just as a shiver spreads across my body and the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

“Do you need a lesson on personal space?” I deadpan, dropping my food onto the plate in front of me. A low rumble sounds from behind me, but there’s no response other than the cackle coming from the direction of the twin’s table and the general bustle of students surrounding us. “Not much of a talker? It's Bale, right?” I laugh, picking up my sandwich and taking another bite without turning to face him. He chuckles before bringing himself down to my level, his face now parallel with mine. I drop my food once more when I feel his cool breath on my skin with each laugh, forcing a shiver to run up my spine.

“Don't bother learning names, funeral girl, you’ll be gone before the end of the day,” he all but growls, the deep, gravelly tone stoking the heat already building in my core from his presence alone. His face dips lower, lips ghosting along my neck, and halting at my pulse point where he nips at the skin lightly. My body betrays me as I lean in closer to chase that little sting before I have a chance to stop myself.

I look around, remembering that we are in a space filled with people, only to find the room completely empty. Well, almost empty. Still sitting back in his chair with a cocky grin plastered on his painfully handsome face is Bale's twin. He’s kicking back, enjoying the show with his muscular arms crossed over his chest and his feet up on the table.

“The raccoon was a good one, I’ll give you that, but come on. Surely you’ve figured out I’m not rattled by your shit after this morning. You don't look stupid, at least not much anyway,” I say with a grin, rising from my chair and spinning around to face him as he straightens back up, once again towering over me.

Anger rolls off of him in waves as I watch his eyes start to spin black veins like they did this morning. His jaw flares, staring into my eyes while I watch the veins spread, tracing beautiful, lightning-like patterns under his skin.

I had considered in class that this may have been a trick of the light, my eyes not adjusting correctly or something. But here, for the second time today, I can see them clear as day. Bale isn’t human, at least not entirely, and I need to know more.

Without thinking, I reach up and delicately trace one of the veins from his undereye to his cheek. His skin is cool to the touch, almost like he had been in the mortuary chamber, but he’s alive and breathing, and looking at me with a pained expression. He closes his eyes and leans slightly into my touch, his hand reaching up to cover mine as I run my fingers along his cheek. I wonder if it hurts when the veins spread like this?

I’m suddenly ripped from Bale and spun around, ending up face-to-face with his twin. My hands fly out and grip his arms tight to avoid falling, his biceps instantly tensing under my fingers while his hold on my shoulders remains firm. The blond twin's eyes are menacing-a deep red hue surrounding the darkest, jet-black pupils I have ever seen. Unless he is wearing contacts, he can’t be human either with eyes like this.

“Could you please, for the love of all that is holy, steer clear of him?” He snarls, nodding toward the hulkingly huge figure slamming the doors to the cafeteria on his way out, snapping them off the hinges just like he had earlier in class.

My hand snakes down his arm, eyes staring into his to try and keep his focus, while I dig my stiletto nails into his hand as hard as I can, a failed attempt to loosen his grip on my shoulders.

“Keep him on a tighter leash, and we won't have any issues, blond twin. Last I checked, the asshole walked up to me, not the other way around.” I bite back sweetly, the blood from my nails digging into his skin now dripping down my wrist, a cascading trail staining my skin crimson in its path. His eyes remain locked on mine with no signs of pain or discomfort, the intensity of his stare shifting from anger to amusement within seconds.

The heat flowing through my core is almost painful at this point, aching for a little hint of pressure. My thighs instinctively rub together in an attempt to relieve some of the pain before a growl rips me from my lust-filled thoughts.

His raised brow and cocky smirk are enough to tell me he not only saw my thighs rubbing together, but he understood why I did it.

“Ahh, so our little mate does get turned on by our presence.”

“What the fuck do you mean by mate? We’re far from friends. I have only just gotten here, and you’ve been a prick since I stepped foot on Blackstone Academy grounds,” I snap, digging my nails into his skin harder, but he doesn’t flinch.

His eyes flit over to my wrist, intently watching as his blood disappears under the cuff of my blazer. He breathes in deeply, closing his eyes momentarily before leaning in closer, his face now inches from mine. We’re both silent for a moment, his nearness searing my skin to an almost unbearable point, unlike his twin. Where Bale’s skin feels cold to the touch, Luka’s is almost like warming your hand near an open flame. Both extremities are painful, but in a way that draws me in and leaves me wanting more.

His grip on my shoulder releases as he closes the small amount of distance that is between us, looking down at me like he wants to devour me whole. I should run. Take this moment to get away from him and get back to my room, but I don't. Instead, I stand there, drawn to him, curious to know more.

“Firstly, my name is Luka, so cut the blond twin bullshit. Secondly, tell me, Wynn, what is it about me and my brother that makes your cunt so fucking wet? Have you thought about the reaction you have to us and why you have it, or did you just think it was because we are hot as fuck?” He asks, raking his perfectly white teeth over his lip as though he is biting back a laugh.

“You two couldn't make anyone wet if your lives depended on it.” I smile, jumping as Luka’s bloodied hand wraps around the column of my throat, squeezing the sides slightly. My grin drops as I feel my arousal coating my inner thighs while I squirm in his hold.

“Is that so? Because I can fucking smell you, Wynn. We’re going to have so much fun together, just you wait.”

PYRO

I should have killed her. I should have killed her or taken her just like I was tasked to. Instead, instinct made me enter her dream and chase her like the perfect piece of prey she is. The image of her running with those thick, bare thighs on full display is seared into my mind, and I can't for the life of me get it out. The way her body felt under mine in my hellhound form, so fragile and breakable... Fuck.

The asshole twins are the two watching over the Academy at the moment, alongside the waste of space fallen angel, who may as well not be here, so this girl is nowhere near safe. As much as I need to go back home and figure out why I can’t seem to kill her, the pull to protect the girl I’m supposed to be killing is much stronger.

My kind are fairly solitary, unlike the fleabag shifters that people mistake us for. We were made for one purpose and one purpose only, which I just so happen to excel at. To kill. Angels, demons, gods even. Whatever we’re ordered to kill, we do. My kind can collect souls, something I’ve been tasked with before, and can shift between our demon form and human-like form at will.

I lean against the wall in the hallway, waiting until I see her storm around the corner with a scowl plastered across her hauntingly beautiful face. She looks fucking stunning; the blood splatter all over her shirt somehow makes her even more delectable. She halts suddenly, her eyes widening at the sight of me while her full, pink lips purse together.

---