“I’m gonna Happy Meal that bitch,” I announce snidely, shrugging off Vin’s arm and charging forward. There’s nothing more dangerous than a girl on a mission.
There’s nothing more dangerous than a vampire out for blood.
With a burst of vampire speed, I ram my shoulder into Cheryl’s legs, knocking her off her feet. She lands on her ass with an audible thump, and I can’t help my grin of satisfaction. That smugness turns into annoyance when Alex touches my shoulder, prepared to spin me around.
“Dude, you’re going to leave a mark, and I don’t like them in any non-sexual context,” I hiss, kicking my left heel back and jamming it into his kneecap. He releases me with a pained groan, and I take advantage of his momentary lapse of concentration to reach down and grab both flags. “Poor little Alex,” I taunt as I begin to walk backwards.
He’s still keeled over, but his eyes are fixed firmly on me, watching my retreat. Pure hatred emanates back at me, barraging my senses. It hangs like a palpable entity over both of our heads, reminding me eerily of a guillotine. You lie there awaiting your inevitable fate, unable to see anything but the blade glinting overhead. All you can do is wait for it to fall.
The wind stirs his pitch-black hair as his eyes cloud over. It’s like a cauldron of ink being spilled. Slowly, painstakingly slow, the black devours the whites around his eyes until I’m staring into pure darkness. He lifts his hand, and the mist gliding over the gravestones gradually recedes.
“Oh, shit,” I murmur, peering over my shoulder at the other guys. They’re far enough away to be unaware of my predicament, busy fighting off the remaining monsters who weren’t rendered unconscious by the blast.
A crackling sound has my attention diverting to one of the graves. As I watch, horrified, a pale, gnarled hand breaches the freshly strewn dirt, followed immediately by a second. I spin in a circle, terror raging through me, as more and more hands appear. Those hands are followed by skeletal heads and lean bodies.
Necromancer.
Alex is a fucking necromancer.
One of the skeletons grabs my ankles, and another wraps his bony arms around my stomach. One, I could take out. Maybe even five. But two dozen? All grabbing at me and pulling me to the ground? Fuck, no.
“Poor little vampire,” Alex tuts, leaning over me with a malicious smirk.
“Let me go and fight me yourself, you coward,” I hiss as a rough hand grabs at my blonde ponytail, yanking it backwards. “Don’t be a cock. I would’ve said pussy, but let’s be honest… Which one is actually stronger?”
Alex continues to smile, unperturbed by my taunts.
The knobbly hands continue to paw at me, pulling me towards a fresh patch of dirt near the opposite end of the cemetery.
This fucker is trying to bury me alive! Not cool.
I try another tactic, wrenching my face away from one of the hands attempting to cover my mouth. “Wait! Please, wait! You don’t have to do this. I know you hate Dracula and everything—”
“Dracula?” Alex raises a pierced eyebrow. “I don’t have a problem with him.” He takes a step closer until his silhouette blocks out the steadily rising sun. He’s all I see, all I hear. He consumes the entirety of my senses. “It’s you I hate.”
“Me?” My words become garbled as one of the skeletons places his hand over my mouth. I attempt to bite down with my fangs, but release a pained cry when I hear a snap. Blood drizzles down my chin from my broken fang, and I try my damn hardest to hold back my tears.
As abruptly as the skeletons converged on me, they release me and crawl back towards their respective graves.
Alex stands over me, panting, his eyes fixed on the lick of blood from my broken fang. His expression shutters as he bends down and grabs the two flags. Without a word, he strides across the cemetery to where Mummy is waiting.
“Violet!” Hux roars, and I turn my head just as he tosses a partially shifted mermaid into a gravestone in his effort to reach me. In quick strides, he hurries towards my side and tenderly cups my jaw. “Whom do I have to kill?”
“We lost,” I lament as somewhere in the distance, I hear Cheryl’s squeal of victory.
Vin and Mason join the huddle next, each covered in a layer of blood with their shirts ripped. Behind them, Frankie stands with an impassive expression on his face, his cold eyes flicking across my body until it rests on my bloody mouth.
“What happened?” Cal demands, stalking towards my other side with Barret hot on his heels. When he sees me, his face scrunches together in sympathy. “Ouch. That looks like it hurts like a bitch. At least you’re still cute.”
“Very cute,” Barret agrees, and I roll my eyes at their attempt to humor me.
“We lost,” I repeat again. That realization settles in my chest like a heavy ball of lead, intermingling with the tangle of nerves already present. “We lost, and Cheryl won.” I clench my hands into fists before slowly, carefully, raising myself to a sitting position. An idea occurs to me as I turn towards the gathered men. “It’s the universe deep-dicking us. If you can’t stop it, enjoy it. At least if the universe makes you preggo, you’ll get child-support from that bitch.”
Just because they won the battle, doesn’t mean they won the war.
I have one goal in life, and one goal only—destroy Alex and Cheryl, no matter the cost.
THE IDEA OCCURS to me when we’re all gathered around Mummy, after the first official training session for the Roaring has commenced.
Alex sits across the circle, sipping from a water bottle, and I nudge Barret inconspicuously with my elbow.
“Think you can do me a favor?” I ask, batting my lashes up at the tall, imposing man. Barret’s brows furrow
