The Unearthly (The Unearthly Series)

Caleb nodded, as if he had suspected this the entire time. He seemed so understanding. And then I thought back to the man who attacked me. It could’ve been Caleb or his father.

  I interrupted his thoughts. “If I don’t strike you as evil, then what do you think of me?”

  I watched him closely, listening for an increased heart rate and any smells that would indicate he was lying.

  “Honestly?”

  I nodded.

  “I think you’re mysterious and sexy as hell.”

  My eyebrows shot up. Definitely not what I was expecting. His heart rate picked up, but he smelled normal—he wasn’t lying. I looked at Caleb skeptically.

  Because I didn’t know how to respond to his statement, I turned his original question back on him. “What’s it like being a shapeshifter?”

  Now it was his turn to look surprised. “You know I’m a shapeshifter?”

  “What, trying to keep it a secret?” The edge was back in my voice. We were finally getting somewhere.

  “No, it’s not a secret. I just haven’t told all that many people, and I didn’t expect you to know.”

  “Oh I know all about shapeshifters—one tried to kill me a few nights ago.” Technically, no one had officially said it was a shapeshifter, but I had to see his reaction.

  His face went pale. “What did you say?”

  I just stared at him.

  His heart rate increased, and I could smell his nervous sweat. He was worried. Andre would be so proud of my sleuthing.

  Caleb stood up. “I’m sorry, I have to go.”

  I opened my mouth, not sure if I had something to say.

  He threw some bills on the table. “I’m sorry.” He apologized one final time and left.

  Well, I guess that explained that.

  Chapter 16

  I SELF-CONSCIOUSLY GRABBED my bag and left the fondue restaurant. The distance back to campus wasn’t too far, maybe seven blocks, and the night was that perfect temperature that only occurs in the summer. I was glad I was alone. My dates had a tendency to end poorly, and I needed time alone to gather myself before I had to face Leanne and Oliver, who undoubtedly would want the scoop.

  Damn siren genes. I bet they were responsible for my tendency to attract men and then rip them apart.

  I turned onto the cobbled street that led to the campus grounds. A short distance away I could make out the remains of the Viking castle. From here Peel Castle was only a decayed, hollow shell. I now knew it was meant to trick the eye.

  A thick fog rolled in from the ocean, and the blissful summer evening almost immediately transformed into a misty, cold one. I pulled my coat closer to me. The wet chill of the island seeped through my jacket surprisingly quickly.

  The evening fog rushed inland from the ocean, gliding across the beach and over the small stone wall that separated it from the coastal road, before slithering down side streets. It looked like a living, breathing thing. I watched, transfixed, as it moved through the streets of Peel.

  A cackle rose from the mist, and the hairs on my body stood on end. The most intuitive, primordial part of me knew that it was coming for me.

  For a moment I was frozen, captivated and frightened by this force of nature. Then briefly, the fog thinned enough for me to see a man striding towards me.

  The man in the suit. Damn.

  The trance was broken, and I turned on my heel and sprinted towards my the dorms. My boots were heavy as I ran, and the ragged breaths I drew burned their way into my lungs. I really needed to run more often.

  I passed through the campus gates. The dorms were less than a quarter mile away.

  Behind me I heard another chilling cackle—much closer to me now—and I pumped my arms faster and pushed my legs harder. My building was rapidly coming closer. The doors were so tantalizingly close, yet it felt as though an ocean’s worth of distance stood between them and me. My heart thumped heavily in my chest.

  My ear tickled as someone whispered next to it. “Gabrielle …”

  I let out a choked scream and used the last of my adrenaline to push my body to the doors. I barreled into the hallway and crashed into Doris, taking us both down.

  “Hey! What the hell? Get off of me!” Disgust curled her upper lip as she tried to push me off her.

  “Did he follow me in?” I frantically looked back out the doors. Was it my imagination or did I hear faint laughter?

  “God, you are such a freak!” Doris exclaimed. Belatedly I noticed the guy on duty in our lobby.

  I got up, brushed myself off, and took a deep breath. I smiled at him, but fear and embarrassment made the corners of my lips waver. “Hi, uh, sorry about that. Someone was … following me,” I finished lamely. He eyed me like I was crazy. At this point, maybe I was.

  I cleared my throat and said to Doris, “Thanks for cushioning my fall. That really would’ve hurt had you not been there.” Her face flushed in anger. I decided sticking around was a bad idea and booked it up the stairs.

  I staggered into my room.

  “What happened to you?” Leanne asked at the same time Oliver said, “Looks like you had a good date, you frisky little thing!”

  I pointed at Oliver. “Commentary not needed. And no, I did not have a good date.”

  I turned to Leanne. “Someone chased me,” I said before I could stop myself. I bit my tongue before I mentioned that it was the man in the suit. Inwardly I cringed. My phantom was becoming bolder, and I didn’t know how long I’d be able to keep my encounters a secret.

  “What?” She looked shocked.

  Oliver was still hung up on the date. “How can you fail two first dates in two weeks? You know that’s really difficult. And by the way, you look like a wet dog.”

  My eyes shot daggers at Oliver, and Leanne chastised him. “How can you even talk about dates when someone followed Gabrielle home?”

  “Well fine, look at me like I’m the bad guy.”

  Ignoring his comment, Leanne turned to me. “Are you okay? Were you hurt?”

  “Other than tackling Doris on my way inside, I’m fine.”

  Leanne snickered. “That’s what she gets for trying to seduce our freaking security guard. She’s been down there for the past thirty minutes.”

  Leanne looked me over. “You sure you’re okay? This is the second time that someone’s been after you. We should report this. And where is Caleb? What an A-hole, letting you walk home alone!”

  I decided to sidestep the Caleb comment. “I didn’t get a good look at the guy, so I’m not sure what use a report would do.” I didn’t want to go back to the police station and deal with them all over again, especially since there was no way they were going to find the man in the suit. I’d seen him disappear right before my eyes.

  “Are you sure?” Leanne squinted at me.

  I swallowed, shifting under her scrutiny. “I’m fine.” The truth was that I wasn’t fine. I hadn’t been fine since I’d first seen him as a child, and it had only gotten worse as I got older.

  Leanne didn’t look convinced. “Really,” I insisted. “I’m just going to lay low for the evening.”

  Leanne checked the time. “The party’s going to start in an hour. You should come with us!”

  “What party?” I asked. Normally I wouldn’t even consider a party, but I didn’t want to be alone tonight.

  “The Seven Deadly Sins party! An alumni’s hosting it off campus. I’m going as lust.”

  Oliver piped in. “She should be going as sloth. She’s in denial.”

  “Look who’s talking, Gluttony,” Leanne said. “You blew through our entire stash of snacks.”

  Oliver put his hands on his hips. “I was hungry. And I was doing you two a favor. I saw you muffin-topping the other day Leanne.”

  I watched as Oliver got wacked by a pillow for the second time today. It was becoming a habit. Leanne had a better arm on her than me, and she managed to lay Oliver out.

  “Ohmigod, Oliver, I’m so sorry!” she cried.

  Oliver p
ointed a finger at her from where he lay on the floor. “That’s it. You’re wrath.”

  ***

  It took two hours to get ready, mostly because Oliver designed outfits for each of us and used his roommate, Paul, to conjure them.

  Leanne did end up dressing as wrath, saying it made her look “fierce.” Her deep maroon dress had convenient tears to illustrate her savagery—and her ample cleavage. Oliver made up her eyes in dark reds.

  Oliver dressed as Envy. Only now as he wore an emerald tunic did I realize how regal he looked. His hair nearly reached his shoulders and looked so soft and silky it made me want to run my hands through it. His skin was luminescent; it sparkled and glowed in the dim light.

  He really was going to make everyone envious, envious of his looks, envious that he wouldn’t look twice at a girl, and envious that no man could hold his attention for long. I wondered if all fairies were like that—flittering from one person to the next.

  Paul was “dressed” as pride; in reality he wore his usual clothes. Paul had begrudgingly decided to come to the party. I was guessing that Oliver had harped about it until Paul gave in. I could empathize; Oliver had beaten out nearly all of my resistance.

  I eyed Leanne’s outfit enviously. I wanted to look dangerous. Instead Oliver had insisted that I go as lust; I was going to look like a cute little sexbot, something I wasn’t too happy about.

  Oliver was huddled with Paul, discussing his drawings. Paul, who had looked bored designing Oliver’s costume, had significantly perked up now that he was assessing the dress, and then me, and then the dress again.

  I watched in awe as the dress materialized from nothing. According to Leanne, this type of conjuring—taking an idea and making it physically exist—was rare. Most conjurors could only duplicate an item physically in front of them. Apparently the Politica was looking into recruiting him. Big effing surprise; I’d hire him too if he could conjure my breakfast lunch and dinner.

  And then Oliver held up the dress.

  “No.” It was the skimpiest red dress I’d ever seen. The front had a plunging neckline and the entire back of the dress down to the skirt was bare save for a series of crisscrossing red ribbons.

  I folded my arms. “I’m not wearing that skimpy thing. It looks like it went through a paper shredder. And why do I have to go as lust?”

  “Because you are a siren—excuse me, the last siren. And you’re a vamp. I can think of no better definition of lust. And it’s not skimpy; the skirt goes down to mid-thigh.”

  I huffed and puffed and lost yet another battle to Oliver. Reluctantly I put the dress on and was surprised to find that I looked good. Oliver touched up my makeup, making my lips a deep red color.

  After we were all ready, we snuck out of the dorm, taking the damp underground passage. Apparently the staff and faculty did not approve of parties, so the persecution tunnels were really the only way to leave campus. So much for being considered an adult.

  I heard a howl in the distance, and shivers raced up my back.

  Oliver quietly swore. “These tunnels are so creepy.”

  “You can say that again.” I rubbed my arms.

  The party was exactly what I would have expected. We walked into a house and were met with the sound of a dozen different conversations, and distantly, the thrum of music. Everyone held bottles of beer or cups full of cheap mixed drinks. I watched a girl trip and stagger in her stilettos on one end of the room, while on the other end a college-aged guy kept up a slurred conversation with an uninterested girl.

  But the most amazing phenomenon was that the alcohol brought out people’s otherness. It was strange that I hadn’t noticed it until now, but everyone had a slight shimmer to his or her form. The more intoxicated they were, the more prominent their otherness was.

  A wereleopard woman had the trademark leopard spots along her exposed arms, and her feline face was superimposed on top of her human one. And another girl who must’ve been a fairy had her glittering wings unfurled.

  “Dance floor!” Oliver squealed. I swear he had a radar for these things. He grabbed my hand and pulled, dragging me along with him.

  I tried to make a grab for Leanne, but she stayed out of reach. “Nuh uh. I’m not dancing without first checking out the bar scene.” She reached for Paul’s hand and pulled him in the opposite direction.

  The dance floor was in one of the house’s larger rooms. Right as we entered, a nearly palpable wall of humidity assaulted us. I suppressed a shudder, knowing so many hot dancing bodies caused it. Almost immediately I began to sweat.

  Techno music pounded, and I watched as shifting forms danced and glittered. I began to dance with Oliver, feeling incredibly awkward and uncomfortable. I tried to ignore the overpowering smell of sweat, body odor, alcohol, and urine. Hands snaked around my waist. I turned to find a guy behind me leering and gyrating. I pushed him away.

  The humidity was making me dizzy, but I kept dancing alongside Oliver, determined that I just needed to loosen up.

  A man stumbled past Oliver and me. I watched as he clutched the wall before vomiting. The smell of it quickly overwhelmed my highly sensitive nose. And just like that, it was all too much.

  I pushed through the crowd and left the room, Oliver calling out behind me. The air in the hallway was less humid, but no more refreshing.

  “Gabrielle!” Leanne called from down the hall.

  I came over to her. “I need to get the hell out of here.”

  “Agreed.” She grabbed my hand. “They’re all out of booze. How can they be out of booze? The night’s barely begun!” I looked around the room at the very sloshed guests. The night was almost over for them.

  We told the guys we were leaving and walked back to the dorms together. Leanne began telling me about the “loser” selkie—whatever that was—that tried to hit on her. “He was just looking for a good time, and I’m not that kind of woman.” She flung her hair to the side. “I mean his home is in the sea! As if he’s looking to ‘get into a relationship.’ Pssh, like I’m going to believe that.”

  Our dorm came into view. As we got closer, I felt a familiar rush of energy, and a figure slowly came into focus.

  Andre leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching me.

  Leanne looked from one of us to the other. “Uh, I’ll see you upstairs,” she said to me. I watched her walk away.

  “I heard you had a date.” Andre’s eyes roved over my itsy bitsy dress and heels.

  “Is that why you’re here?” I eyed him over. He wasn’t showing any emotion.

  He shook his head. “I was gone for a few days and I just got back.” So that was why I hadn’t seen him until now. “I wanted to see how you were doing. However, it sounds as though things are going just great for you,” he finished.

  Was he … jealous?

  I narrowed my eyes. “Frankly Andre, that’s none of your business.”

  “Everything my subjects do is my business.”

  “Excuse me?” I said it quietly, but I was pissed.

  He ran a shaky hand through his hair, a sure sign he was agitated. “Gabrielle—” He paused long enough that I wasn’t sure he had anything more to say. His nostrils flared, and if I hadn’t known any better, I’d say he looked pained as he spoke. “I’m sorry.” He looked off at the ocean.

  I furrowed my eyebrows. This Andre was nervous, and—dare I say it—vulnerable. I wasn’t sure I liked it.

  “I’m not sure what we have,” I said, “but I wouldn’t expect you to exclusively date me at this point.” It hurt to admit this last part. The idea of Andre with another woman … the mere thought was devastating.

  I blew out a long breath. “Listen, if it makes you feel any better, the date was awful.” Then again, Andre’s and mine was also awful, so I wasn’t sure that was comforting.

  My words snapped him out of his thoughts. “I do not need to feel better.” He looked insulted. “And enough of this.” He straightened up. “I didn’t just come here to check on you. We
have training, and tonight I am going to teach you the laws of being a vampire.”

  ***

  We arrived at Bishopcourt a quarter till one. Like Peel Castle, candles flickered along the mansion’s walls, throwing off both light and shadow. In between them hung oil paintings of various people in different eras of dress. The light played along their faces, making their frozen eyes dance and leaving me to wonder if they were still alive.

  I followed Andre’s sure strides until we arrived at his private quarters. I looked around at his antiquated office, which appeared to double as a library. Shelves of books filled the room. Behind a giant mahogany desk was a yellowed map of the world.

  The room was an ode to history. Stacked on various shelves were clay and stone figurines, shrunken heads, carved animal masks, Egyptian stele, a collection of various ancient coins, and intricately carved weaponry. I stood there, mouth slack, taking in his collection.

  He offered me a chair and sat across from me. “You like my office?”

  “This is amazing. I feel like I entered Indiana Jones’s office,” I said, sitting down.

  He shrugged. “When you live as long as I have, you inevitably garner a collection. I was actually thinking of redecorating.”

  “No,” I said too quickly, and Andre raised an eyebrow. I cleared my throat. “What I meant to say was that I really like it, and I don’t think you should change it.”

  He looked around the room, reassessing his office space as though he hadn’t really seen it in a while. His eyes came back to mine. “We’ll see.”

  He changed the subject. “I want to talk about some of the basics of being a vampire. There are three main rules. One, you are forbidden to change anyone into a vampire. Two, never drink to kill. And three, tell no one of who we are. Now—”

  I interrupted him. “Uh, question. Doesn’t everyone already know who and what we are?” I shifted in my seat. That electric thrum between us was stronger than ever, and I kept catching myself noticing things like Andre’s silky hair or his strong jawline. Luckily he hadn’t yet caught me ogling.

  “Only the supernatural community knows our identity. But I am talking about the entire world. Humans have no idea we exist. Thanks to popular media, they believe we are simpering immortals who pine for true love. I’d like it to stay that way. That means no one can know we exist, and that also means drinking blood must be done privately—no witnesses.”