“She probably sucked the Spector president’s cock,” another voice chuckled.
Oh, goody. My classmates had decided to come chat.
They’d always been eager to remind me I didn’t belong, and I guess tonight would be no exception. I tilted my chin up, pointedly ignoring them as I pulled some red lipstick from the clutch I was carrying and applied it to my lips. Fuck them. It was always such a predictable cliché—tormenting the poor scholarship girl for not having a rich daddy or a connected mother. Yawn.
“Of course she did. I heard that’s how she got into Thibault, too. She fucked every supe on the school board,” a third voice added.
Irritated, I spun around to face the three jackasses talking shit. I frowned when I found a familiar black-haired vampire in the middle. I’d once had the displeasure of wasting twenty minutes of my life on him. Terrible decision on my part, but I’d been horny and hungry. It was a bad combo for a vamp, and it tended to make me a bit skanky.
“Oh. Byron. I didn’t notice you there,” I said, pasting a thoughtful look on my face. “Wait a minute, didn’t I say the same thing to you when you were fucking me?” I asked with a smirk.
The other two vamps let out surprised laughs, while Byron’s face mottled with anger. The funniest part? I wasn’t even joking. For all his cockiness, this dude was a terrible fuck with a tiny dick, and his blood tasted like chalk. Probably too much in-breeding with other high-up vampires trying to hold on to their purer bloodline bullshit.
He straightened his spine so he could better look down his nose at me. “Yeah? I’m not surprised you couldn’t feel anything. You’re just a bitch with a loose pussy,” he shot back at me, making the vamps who’d laughed at him, turn around and laugh harder at me. No fucking loyalty.
I pressed my lips so hard together that some of the clay-like lipstick I’d just applied matted and fell in powdered crumbles down my chin, leaving a streaky line down the front of my dress. Godsdamned you, cheap fucking makeup. This shit didn’t happen with name brands.
I dismissed him with a shake of my head and pushed away from the trio. Maybe I could find a bathroom and take a minute to myself before I had to face anyone again. I didn’t want to be in a bad headspace before Spector did their presentation. Before I could make my escape though, Stiles intercepted me.
He stepped in front of me and held up two champagne flutes full of fresh blood. By the looks of it, he’d grabbed the clotted cheap shit for both of us. My eyes flickered up to his in surprise. Had he done it to make me feel more comfortable? That was...weird.
His eyes zeroed in on the line of makeup on my dress. “Something wrong?”
I knew full well he probably heard what happened from across the room, but he was testing to see if I would complain about it. But I wouldn’t. Not to him. Talking about those dumbasses gave them power, and I preferred to keep my power to myself. I wasn’t ashamed of the fact that I liked to fuck and did it whenever it pleased me. Vampires were sexual creatures, and yet they always liked to be judgmental about it. I didn’t understand the point.
When I wasn’t keeping to myself or studying, I was indulging. Zero strings. Zero attachments. I was a loner through and through—but with a healthy appetite for sins of the flesh. And despite the way those three vampire assholes had acted just now, I knew without a doubt, that if I turned around and invited them for a little suck and fuck, they’d jump at the chance. They were bullies, yeah, but they were still males with dicks. But talking about any of this to my half-brother who could barely stand me? Yeah, hard pass.
“Nope. Nothing’s wrong at all.” I shook my head in answer and tilted my glass back, drinking the blood with a hearty gulp. The buzzing power of cheap, regular human blood hummed appreciatively in my chest. Stiles watched me with a contemplative look on his face, but I didn’t want him to look at me like that. I wanted him to keep on ignoring me with disdain from a distance, probably brooding over having to share DNA with me. That, I was used to.
“You have thicker skin than this, Motley. I know you do.”
I turned to look at him, setting my glass down and crossing my arms in front of me. “You don’t know me, so don’t pretend like you do. We’ve been enemies for our entire academic career. Don’t try to give me advice. I’m fine. I’m not some fucking weak damsel crying in a corner. I’ve been dealing with bullshit like that my whole life, so I don’t need a fucking pep talk from you. I just needed a drink, a second to regain my chill, and then I’ll have my head high again. I always do.”
When a look that resembled pity crossed his features, it made my blood boil.
I was about to open my mouth to ream him some more, but Headmaster Torne had spotted Stiles, and he walked over with a group of supes and stopped at our side.
“Ah, Stiles.”
Stiles looked over, one hand casually in his pocket and one holding his glass. “Good evening, Headmaster,” he greeted smoothly.
Headmaster Torne beamed at him. It was no secret that he had a fiscal hard-on for the Trants, so my brother was somewhat of a golden child in his eyes.
“I wanted to introduce you,” Headmaster Torne said. “We were just discussing your potential on the council.”
“Good potential, I hope,” Stiles joked, making the other men chuckle.
“Stiles, I hear you did very well on the last council meeting. When Torne here told me you were present tonight, I knew I needed to meet the Vampire Paragon,” the tall vampire to
