Yup. It’s official. I’m putty. I swear I melt with each consecutive word he says.
I’m too busy making googly eyes at him—and him at me—that I don’t hear Vin’s warning until I collide into someone’s back. I would’ve fallen to my ass if Vin hadn’t lunged forward and caught me.
“Who the fuck dares hurt my precious treasure?” Hux hisses—because he’s extra like that. I don’t bother to correct him and say I ran into him. Sometimes you just need to let Hux be.
The man spins around on his heel, nearly pulling the woman he’s with off her feet. A third male hovers off to the side, watching the interaction with narrowed, hate-filled eyes.
I stare at the woman first, mainly because something about her haunted, blood-shot eyes calls to me. Her blonde hair is smoothed into a flawless high ponytail, not a strand out of place. She wears a skintight black dress that one would see at a cocktail bar instead of a ball. Still, she’s gorgeous, embodying a feminine beauty and grace. Her eyes are hazel, but laden with such pain and sadness that my heart skips a beat. And though she’s smiling, it doesn’t meet her pensive gaze.
The man beside her is a giant in comparison. His hair is black as pitch, gelled away from his aristocratic face. With a sharp nose, strong jawline, and high cheekbones, he appears almost too beautiful, too handsome. But the coldness in his eyes makes him appear hideous, at least to me.
Finally, my gaze rests on the third male. On his familiar black hair and obsidian eyes. On the tattoos interspersed across his tan skin. On the bulb in his eyebrow and the earrings in his ears. On the smirk pulling up those delectably wicked lips.
“I’m sorry,” I stammer out at last as the man stares down at me. These must be Alex’s parents. His facial structure is similar to his mother’s, but the jet-black hair and fathomless dark eyes are inherited from his father.
“Don’t fucking talk to us, you vampire scum,” his father sneers at last. I can’t help but notice that the woman blanches at the venom in his tone, shooting me a sympathetic glance before she quickly covers her reaction.
“Do not talk to her like that!” Barret snaps, moving to stand in front of me. As I watch, my friendly giant seems to grow in size until he’s towering above us all, his muscles flexing in a rare show of power and dominance.
“Do you know what you cost us?” the man continues, peering around Barret’s bulky form to glare at me with incandescent fury. “What you cost my wife?” He tugs on the woman’s arm until she tumbles towards him, face twisting in pain. I watch the exchange with growing horror.
The fear and pain cloying her eyes…
Could that be from him?
“I don’t even know you,” I say simply. The man surprises us all by spitting at my feet, face scrunched in disgust.
“You should do the world a favor and kill yourself. You’re not deserving of the air you breathe.”
It takes both Mason and Cal to stop Hux from lunging forward and ripping the man’s head clean off his neck. Not that I blame him. I’m also feeling quite murdery today, thank you very much.
All of my pain and anger from before comes rushing back with the strength of a hurricane. It whips at my hair and bites at my face. Pain like no other sparks in my heart like errant fireworks.
“What did I ever do to you?” I hiss, baring my fangs.
“Dad,” Alex warns, flashing me a glare full of loathing. He looks as if he’d very much enjoy wrapping those tattooed hands of his around my neck and giving it a squeeze. “People are watching.”
It’s true. Our exchange has garnered a crowd of curious onlookers. No one will step in if this escalates to a fight, but the monster world knows not to mess with Dracula—and by extension, me—with witnesses around. My father’s revenge is well-known across the globe. Hell, I’m pretty sure there are still heads spiked on the fence surrounding our summer home in Hawaii from the last monster group who pissed Dad off.
Alex stares at the assembled crowd, still far enough away not to hear our conversation, and releases a belittling laugh. The noise is reminiscent of starless skies and double-edged swords. Of daggers and full moons. There’s something dark and sinister about it, something that makes my skin crawl like thousands of fire ants have been set free under my skin.
My heart thunders in my chest as Alex steps around his father and leans forward, under the guise of pushing back a strand of my curly blonde hair, and whispers in my ear, “I’d watch what you say, little vampire. Tonight, not even Dracula can protect you.”
When he steps back, the cruel smile is still firmly in place.
“What the hell does that mean?” Mason hisses, still gripping one of Hux’s arms. I can see Hux struggling to regain control of his beast, his monster.
“Don’t threaten me,” I add, lifting my head to meet his crow-black stare.
“Halloween is when we can embrace our inner monsters, but the Roaring? The Roaring is when the monsters actually get to play,” Alex tuts, gripping his father’s arm and pulling him away. “Let’s go, Dad. The bitch isn’t worth it.” His cold laughter rings out as he drags his father down the path, away from me. His mother remains behind for only a moment, eyes surveying my face with the same intensity I had examined hers.
“Helena!” Alex’s father screams, the noise clawing at my skin. She winces, face paling, before leaning in closer to me.
Immediately, Vin and Frankie step up to either side of me. Barret continues to expand until it’s almost comical—if he wanted to, he could crush her beneath one foot.
“Take care of my boy,” she whispers hoarsely, ignoring the men on either side of me.
“What?” I bite out in disbelief. She couldn’t possibly be talking about Alex, could she?
“Please.”
“Helena!” Alex’s father snarls. I watch as Alex futilely attempts to drag his dad away, but the man stays firm, feet rooted to the ground.
“Please,” Helena repeats. With one last beseeching glance at me, she spins on her heel and mechanically walks back towards her husband and son. Once she’s in range, her husband grabs at her frail arm, tugging her to him, and I note a muscle in Alex’s jaw twitch.
“What the bloody hell was that all about?” Cal hisses, his red feathers ruffling in the early winter air.
“The usual,” Mason spits, finally releasing Hux. Cal, after a moment, releases his other arm and takes a tentative step away from the frightening monster. “Vampire haters.”
“No, this seemed different,” I say, watching the three of them disappear in the foggy graveyard. “Personal, almost. Alex even told me that it wasn’t something Dracula did, but something I did.”
“But what the hell did you do?” Vin asks, throwing his hands into the air. “You have a collection of stuffed unicorns, for fuck’s sake.”
“Hey.” I spin on my heel and level an accusatory finger in his direction. “Those are magical horses with horns. Not unicorns.”
“They’re totally unicorns,” Mason throws in.
“I have to agree with them on this one, Cheese Curd,” adds Barret.
“Horses. With. Horns.”
“Unicorns,” all of the men parrot, sans Hux, who is still glaring at a tree trunk as if it has personally offended him. Shit. This isn’t good.