The Forsaken

The next evening Oliver and Leanne slipped out of Peel Academy to visit me at Bishopcourt before we snuck back onto school grounds.

 

As soon as Oliver saw me, his jaw went a little slack. “Oh. My. Gawd!” he squealed. “My baby’s no longer a virgin! Get it gurl!”

 

Just about every servant in the entryway paused what they were doing to glance over at us.

 

Well this wasn’t mortifying or anything.

 

“Will you please keep your voice down?” I hissed at him. Did I have a giant sign on me that said “deflowered” or something?

 

Leanne shook her head. “He is such a liability.”

 

“You have to tell me everything.”

 

I could feel the pull of Andre as he moved towards the commotion. I bit back a groan. He’d only just alerted the coven that we were at Bishopcourt—we were scheduled to meet with them tomorrow—yippee! Now he probably assumed some vampire had decided to visit early, which meant he thought a fight was about to break out. Awesome. All I needed was an extra-aggressive Andre.

 

 

 

A moment later he strode to my side, his hand resting proprietarily around my waist. I shivered at his touch, remembering last night.

 

Oliver waggled his eyebrows as Andre leaned in and gave my temple a kiss before nodding to my friends. “Oliver, Leanne, I trust you weren’t followed?”

 

“Hello to you too,” Oliver said, sassy as ever.

 

“We weren’t,” Leanne said.

 

“Well come in,” Andre beckoned. “Can I get you two anything to eat or drink?”

 

“I thought you’d never ask,” Oliver replied.

 

Andre glanced down at me. “Soulmate, have you eaten yet?”

 

My stomach clenched at the thought of food—or blood.

 

“You haven’t,” he stated, reading my expression. “Come,” he said to my friends, placing a hand on my lower back and steering me towards Bishopcourt’s informal dining room.

 

After he arranged dinner for my friends, Andre set a blood bag in front of me. I grimaced.

 

“You need to feed.” Worry drew sharp lines along his face.

 

I pushed the blood away from me. “I’m not that hungry yet.”

 

 

 

Andre pushed it back. “You need your energy for tonight.”

 

“It doesn’t look appetizing at the moment.” That was the truth. The lie was pretending that it might look more appetizing in a few hours.

 

Andre grabbed the bag. “I’ll heat it up.”

 

Reheated blood. The thought had my stomach churning.

 

I grabbed Andre’s wrist. “If I have to drink it, I’d prefer it cold.” Said no vampire ever. Until now.

 

He studied my hand, then my face. “If you don’t want the blood bag, then I can get one of my servants.”

 

Oh, that would be so much worse.

 

“This is fine.” My hands shook as they clasped the bag.

 

A handful of days. That was all I got. And I was going to have to pretend that I didn’t flitter away my life so soon after I’d learned the third fate might be able to save it. Because there was no way in hell I was admitting my stupid, stupid decision to bargain with the devil. I’d have to go through the motions, which meant visiting the fate, regardless of how damned I was.

 

“Ew, are you going to drink that in front of me?” Oliver asked, snapping me out of my thoughts. He unwrapped the first of a pile of truffles set in front of him—his version of dinner. “I love you and all, Sabertooth, but that’s like, really gross.”

 

Andre’s jaw hardened, his arms folding. Clearly someone was feeling extra protective.

 

By way of response, I stuck the blood bag’s straw in my mouth.

 

 

 

Oliver curled his upper lip. “Ugh, that’s disgusting.”

 

I smiled around the straw, flashing fang, and flipped him the bird.

 

He tilted his head. “I’ll give you this: you’re really showing off your amazing sucking skills. I bet you’d be great at BJ’s.”

 

Oh. My. God. Ew. I spit out the straw. “All that is holy, Oliver, could you for once …”

 

I didn’t finish. Andre already had him by the neck and was dragging him out of the kitchen. Oliver scrambled to keep his footing as he was hauled off.

 

I pushed myself to my feet, following them out. “Whoa. Andre, let him go.”

 

Andre ignored me. “You have no business talking to a lady like that.”

 

Aw damn, Andre was up and getting all chivalrous on my behalf.

 

“A lady?” Oliver said raising his eyebrows. He glanced at me like the thought was precious.

 

I shook my head at him to keep his mouth shut, but the fairy just smirked, like he couldn’t help himself.

 

“Me thinks her reputation’s been sullied a bit after last night. Bow-chicka-wow-w—ack.” He began making choking noises as Andre squeezed his neck.

 

Oliver was an idiot.

 

I jumped in between the two of them and tried to pry Andre’s finger’s off of him. “Oliver, just—shut up for five seconds.”

 

I swiveled to face my soulmate. “Please let my friend go.”

 

 

 

“If he was one of my subjects he’d be whipped for this.”

 

Whipped? Nope, not going to ask.

 

“He’s my friend, and he promises he’ll be respectful from now on, don’t you Oliver?” I glared at him.

 

He gave me a look that said, Are you crazy? But when his gaze moved to Andre, he nodded eagerly. “Best behavior,” he wheezed.

 

Andre snarled and roughly let his neck go. “Your word means little when your actions don’t match.”

 

Oliver rubbed his neck and mouthed, Holy fuck.

 

Andre was breathing heavily, and I put a bracing hand on his arm. “It’s okay. He meant nothing by it.” As far as Oliver’s remarks went, that one hardly made a blip on the Richter scale.

 

“Friend or not, I will not tolerate slander.”

 

It was a bit late for that, considering all the stories circulating about me.

 

I rubbed my forehead. For the love of—“Can we please choose our battles? I have enough enemies as it is.”

 

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