“Barret and I made a deal with Dimitri and the Monster Council,” Cal continues, voice a hushed murmur. “If we win the Roaring, we’ll get to go free, be normal students. Normal monsters.” He swallows suddenly, and I feel my pulse skitter in response.
“And if you lose?” I voice the question I really, really don’t want the answer to.
“If we lose…” His Adam’s apple bobs. “If we lose, we’ll work for the council.”
“For how long?” Terror thrums through me, vibrating on its own separate frequency.
Cal’s face is grim when he speaks next. “Forever.”
Chapter 23
Violet
The first official ceremony for the Roaring is a grand affair. Monsters come from every country, every ocean, and every cave. Tents have been erected on the far side of campus, each befitting royalty. Though the games don’t technically start until tomorrow, the Academy puts on an elaborate ceremony in the graveyard followed immediately by a ball in the cafeteria. Classes are momentarily put on hold until the Roaring ends a week from now.
As an official competitor, my dress has been custom made and paid for by the school. They want their little soldiers to look their best before they’re sent to the slaughterhouse. But, unlike the movies and books, we do it willingly.
Of course, I can’t fucking get the damn dress on. They expect me to wear a corset, of all things. A corset. I stare at the material for so long, I’m afraid I’ll go cross-eyed. The black laces are loose currently, wafting in the breeze from my open window in a seemingly mocking display.
“Fuck you, corset,” I hiss, offering it my middle finger. The corset doesn’t respond, obviously, but I swear the laces begin to billow faster as if in laughter.
And…
I’m officially losing my mind.
“Do you need help with that? Or do you just want to keep glaring at it as if it’ll get legs and arms and spider monkey your boobs,” a dry voice says from the doorway. I spin quickly, futilely attempting to cover up my scantily-covered body. I’m dressed in only a pair of lacy pink panties and a matching pink bra dotted with black bats.
Cynthia rolls her eyes at me before gesturing for me to spin around. At my confused expression, she rolls her eyes a second time. It’s pretty weird looking, considering her eyes are half out of their sockets, as if she haphazardly shoved them in her eye sockets but didn’t bother to secure them.
“I don’t have all day,” she snipes. Eyeing her as one would a cornered, feral animal, I give her my back and hold up the corset. I quickly slide off my bra and cover my boobs with one hand. I love Cynthia and all, I do, but that girl does not need to see my nips.
She makes quick work of the laces, and I suck in a heavy breath, as it feels as if my soul has left my body. How do people wear these things? After this dance is over, I’m going to walk around shirtless in order to let my boobs breathe.
Once the final lace has been tightened and tied, Cynthia steps away from me, her face bereft of expression. “Do you need help with the dress too?” She nods towards the monstrosity draped over my bed.
“If you have the time…” I trail off sheepishly, and she snorts.
“My only other plan for today was to eat a liver and maybe get high.” She stalks forward to grab the dress for me to step into.
After she helps me into my dress, she stays to brush my hair into an elegant half-up, half-down hairdo. With painstaking delicacy, she applies a light coat of makeup, accentuating my bright eyes and cupid bow lips.
“Do you have a dress to wear?” I question as she dusts a layer of blush over both my cheeks. As a vampire, I’m naturally pasty and fair-skinned, but being an introvert who likes to hide in her room and eat cake doesn’t help matters. I distrust all of those people capable of having perfect tans.
“Yeah,” she states simply, stepping away to survey her work. “In my room.”
“Where have you…?” I trail off before steeling my resolve. “Where have you been staying?”
Am I mistaken, or does Cynthia look embarrassed?
“At first, I was staying with a friend. Loxley. You remember her?” I shrug, vaguely recalling a little ho who sat in front of me in some of my classes. “But now, I’m staying with Pete.”
“No fucking way!” I lean forward eagerly, and she ducks her head, thick black waves spilling forward to cover her face in a curtain of ink. “When did this happen?”
“After our talk, I confronted him. He confessed that he’s been in love with me for years now.” Her voice takes on a wistful, dreamy quality. “We began to date soon after.”
“Wow. I mean…wow. I’m so fucking happy for you, girl!” I lean forward to hug her before remembering I’m a fluffy pile of skirts and ruffles. “And you’re already living together?”
She glances in both directions anxiously, almost as if she’s expecting someone to be hiding beneath my bed. Actually, given what I know about Dimitri, I wouldn’t be surprised.
“To be honest, he’s my mate.” She says the words conspiratorially, as if they’re a dirty curse word. Her face is pale, ashen almost, beneath the LED lights of the mirror.
“And that’s a bad thing, why?” I query, watching her face carefully. There’s a minuscule tick of her right eyebrow, and her black tongue extends to lick her lower lip.
“Because banshees don’t have fated mates,” she confesses. “There hasn’t been a case recorded yet.”
My heart stutters to a stop as I process the full ramifications behind her words. Cal’s story from yesterday reverberates through my head, rattling my brain. Is he somehow behind this?
What the hell is going on?
“Are you excited for the Roaring?” I question, attempting to change the subject.
“Fuck, no. I’m not competing. But my family is coming to visit me. My little brother, Justin, will come as well. He’s six months old and absolutely adorable!” Her tone takes on the dreamy quality all people seem to have when talking about babies. You know the type—saccharine sweet to the point of sickening. “You’ll have to meet him.”
“I’d love to,” I whisper, but a strange knot enters my stomach. I don’t know what exactly this emotion is, so I shove it beneath the proverbial rug before it can take root and grow. Instead, I focus once more on the fact that Cynthia has found her mate.
Cynthia curses abruptly, pulling her phone from her dress pocket. “Shit. I need to go. Pete’s waiting for me. You look beautiful, by the way.” Before she has even finished speaking, she’s halfway out the door. I lift my hand in a timid wave, but I can’t stop fixating on what she just confessed.
Cynthia—a banshee—has found her fated mate. I don’t know the history of banshees, so I have no way of knowing if there’s truly never been another case before, but I do know that I’m the first vampire to have found her fated mate…or mates.
The questions are beginning to pile up, forming a mammoth wall of secrets and deceit. It’s surrounding me, trapping me, with little to no hope of escape.
Shaking my head vigorously, I turn towards the mirror once more and study myself. I look…beautiful. It’s not a word I use to describe myself often.