My feelings for Jack, Hux, Frankie, Mason, and Vin are already complicated enough. I don’t even want to think about Dimitri Gray with his icy blue eyes and snow-white hair. Shouldn’t Frankie have been jealous of what Dimitri witnessed? Unless…
Nope, not going there. Not today. Not ever, if I have my say. There’s only so much a girl can take before she finds herself a nice corner to rock back and forth in.
I continue to sway to the music, lifting my hands in the air, when I feel a sharp pang in the center of my chest. I don’t know how to explain it, but I know innately that something is wrong. My gaze flickers to the bar, but Frankie is nowhere to be seen. All around me, I see sweaty faces and ecstatic grins as the patrons dance and grind against each other.
But no Frankie.
I push aside a particularly disgusting couple until I reach the booth we abandoned.
“Frankie?” Before I can get out another word, a rough hand grabs my shoulder and spins me around to face him.
He’s tall, almost two feet larger than me, with pasty white skin and sunken eyeballs. A ghoul.
“Don’t scream if you want your experiment to live,” he warns, his rancid breath making me want to gag. Still, I don’t fight him as we move briskly through the club and out a back door.
Only when we’re away from the thrashing bodies do I wrench away from him. “Where the fuck is Frankie?” I demand.
The ghoul nods behind him, and it’s only then that I realize we’re in an alleyway of sorts. A lone dumpster rests against the graffiti-covered wall. In the distance, I can hear the honk of cars and screech of tires, but we’re far enough away from the street that we’re obscured from view.
A moment later, Frankie is wrenched from around the corner, his head lolling against his chest and his arms captured by two unfamiliar monsters. One has both gills and feathers clamoring up the sides of his neck, while the other has icicles for hair.
They unceremoniously toss Frankie forward, and he rolls a few times before stopping at my feet.
“Frankie!” I cry, but before I can go to him, the ghoul grabs my hand and yanks me to a stop.
“We’re going to have some fun with you, vampire bitch,” he hisses, flashing a smile that showcases yellow teeth. Like all ghouls, they’re cut into keen points that look capable of tearing the skin off my bones with minimal effort.
“Go to hell,” I hiss, attempting to shake him off of me. I need to go to Frankie. I need to—
I let out a startled yelp when I’m suddenly pulled into a strong set of arms. When I attempt to fight, he merely applies a slight amount of pressure, his strength surpassing even my own. This newcomer must be a giant of some sort, if his hulking muscles are any indication.
The ghoul meanders in front of me, a hideous curl to his lips.
“Have you seen this?” he demands, thrusting his phone in front of my face. I stubbornly look away, refusing to give in to their twisted games, but the giant behind me grabs my chin and forces me to face the phone screen.
It appears to be a video of the Monster Capital, located in Romania. Vampires of all ages are gathered in front of the wrought iron fence, hurling obscenities at the stone-faced guards. Their words are garbled and indistinct, but their message is clear—stop treating us like secondhand citizens. As I watch, horrified, one of the vampires grabs a werewolf’s neck and snaps it, releasing a guttural roar of victory. He proceeds to lick the blood off his fingers with a fanged grin.
The ghoul stops the video on the vampire’s sneering face and puts it back in his pocket.
“Do you know what this is?” he hisses, lowering his head and peering deeply into my eyes.
“It looks like a protest,” I whisper. I can’t help but flick my gaze down to Frankie. He looks so still. Too still. Is he faking, as he did before with the headmaster? Or has something terrible actually happened to him?
“Your kind is an abomination,” he spits, and I absently wipe the liquid off my cheek. “You guys are already immortal. Why do you demand more? Why do you kill to get what you want?”
“I had nothing to do with that protest,” I say, my voice shaky.
“So you don’t believe vampires should get more rights?” He cants his head to the side, his milky white eyeballs sending pinpricks of terror racing down my spine. His question feels like a test, one that I don’t know how to answer.
“I believe vampires should have equal rights,” I try at last. His fist connects with the side of my face, and I stumble in the giant’s arms.
“They should have no rights!” he screams, looming over me. “Did you know that a vampire murdered my sister? Huh? Did you know that?”
For the first time in forever, terror rushes through me, rendering me immobile. I don’t think I could fight back, even without the giant’s arms around me. There’s something dangerous in the ghoul’s face, something unhinged. He won’t just bully me or taunt me like some of my classmates; he’ll kill me.
“There are thousands and thousands of vampires in the world—” I begin as he steps forward and grabs my arm, twisting it slightly.
“You’re all the same.” He reaches into his pocket and procures a copper-handled dagger. The blade glints menacingly in the tiny swath of moonlight visible. “You think you’re so much better than us, huh?” With his free hand, he reaches underneath my dress and cups my still bare pussy. I sob, twisting my head so I don’t have to see the malevolent sneer on his face. “Do you know what this is?” He brandishes the knife in front of my face.
I squeeze my eyelids shut, trying to imagine I’m anywhere else. With anyone else. Isn’t this the part of the story where a handsome prince comes and saves me?
Well, my friends, fairy tales aren’t real. Knights in shining armor aren’t real. If you want to survive, you have to save yourself. You have to embrace your inner monster and be the beast you hate.
“Leave me the fuck alone,” I growl, still keeping my eyes shut.
“This is a god-blessed blade,” the ghoul continues, voice awed. “One of the only things capable of killing a vampire. And…scarring one.”
He removes his hand from beneath my dress and grabs hold of my arm once more. Finally, I risk opening one eye to see him staring at my flesh intently, as if it’s a canvas and he’s a starving artist.
“Fuck you,” I say through gritted teeth.
His smile is slow, predatory almost, and causes my hackles to rise. “If you’re offering.”
Before I can gather my wits, he presses down on the inside of my arm with the blade. Pain—excruciating pain—explodes in my veins at the first stab of the dagger. I press my elongated fangs into my bottom lip in a desperate attempt to stop my sudden need to scream. But when he presses down again, a cruel laugh reverberating through him, I can’t contain the anguished cry.
“Violet…?” a drowsy voice murmurs. And then, more alert, he repeats, “Violet!”
I turn tear-filled eyes to see Frankie now standing, struggling between the two monsters that hold him. “Violet!” he screams again, the agonized noise somehow soothing my ravaged soul. Even amidst the pain, it’s comforting to know he cares.
Fuck, I’m screwed up, aren’t I?
“Please, stop! Do you want money? I’ll give you money! Fuck!” Frankie attempts to headbutt the icicle man, but the second monster quickly wraps an arm around his neck, cutting off his air supply.