Cal freezes before slowly, mechanically, turning his head to meet my eyes. “Yours?” His hand trails almost reverently down my cheek before cupping my jaw—in a completely platonic and friendly move, of course. “You’re beautiful. The most beautiful girl alive.”
“Look, beauty is a concept constructed completely by society, and therefore cannot be measured, because different people have different opinions,” I babble. “And regardless of the definition, it cannot be quantified, so beauty can’t be accurately compared.”
I have a serious case of foot-in-mouth disease.
This is why my father disowned me.
“Come on,” Mason says, shooting me an amused smirk. I bite down on my lip to keep from sticking my tongue out at him like a petulant five-year-old. “Let’s go home.”
Home.
At one point, that thought would’ve made warm flurries spring to life in my stomach. But now, it only makes me feel cold and empty. How can we go back to the Academy without Barret? How can we pretend that we’re okay when a piece of us is dead?
I know Cal is on the same wavelength as I am when he tightens his arms almost imperceptibly around me.
Vin, dagger raised, opens the door Pussy Man was blocking. A glimmering portal—shining like the stars themselves have been plucked from the sky and tossed into a swirling vortex—takes up the entirety of the room.
“We need to wait for Hux and Jack,” I say defiantly, crossing my arms over my chest and adopting a fierce scowl. I know the effect is lost on the others when Cal begins to rock me like a baby.
The guys exchange an eloquent look before, as one, they nod.
“No can do, Pinkie!” Mason says cheerfully, skipping up beside Cal and pecking me on the nose. “Hux will roast us over a fire if we allow you to stay.”
“You can’t make me leave,” I growl, unveiling my fangs. Mason’s expression only appears more amused.
“Actually, we can.”
Before I can protest, Vin sidles up to my other side and plucks me out of Cal’s arms. Then, he tosses me forward.
Directly into the portal.
Chapter 33
Violet
I’m spit out onto the Academy’s grounds in an undignified heap. Of course, the portal fucking hates me and decides to drop me down face first. And since my mouth was already open in a silent scream, I end up with a mouthful of dry dirt.
Cursing Vin to hell and back, I stagger to my feet to the enthusiastic cheers of the assembled crowd. Those jovial cries abruptly fade away like a candle flame being blown out when they get their first look at who actually popped out of the portal. The silence is stifling—uncanny, almost—as I face the crowd with an imperious set to my chin. It feels as if I’m naked, their scrutiny flaying open my skin until my bones and tendons are revealed.
Dimitri Gray leans against the wall with an almost insouciant slump. When he sees me, he straightens and smooths out his crisp black suit. Stalking forward, he grabs my hand and raises it into the air, a smirk on those delectably wicked lips.
“Violet Dracula has completed Round One of The Roaring!” he declares into the stunned silence. I really should be offended. Half of the audience appears livid, as if they had hoped I would die in the games, while the other half seems genuinely confused, almost as if they can’t possibly believe that someone like me would win. Fuck them all. Anger swarms in my stomach as if a thousand angry bees have been released. I take a deep, calming breath, attempting to regulate my emotions before they explode out of me.
The portal behind me sparks and fizzles, and a moment later, Vin gracefully rolls out, ending in a crouched position with his blade still clutched firmly in his hand.
This time, the audience continues to cheer when Dimitri steps up beside him, takes his hand, and declares, “Vin Van Helsing has completed Round One of The Roaring!” Vin studiously ignores me, his eyes flickering to a group of men and women alike who are chanting his name. Other Van Helsings and hunters, if their blood-thirsty eyes are any indication. With one last furtive glance in my direction, noting the rage emanating from my eyes, he stalks towards his family with a raised chin and patronizing smirk.
Asshole.
Condescending, sexy asshole.
How dare he shove me through the portal without my consent? How dare he? My anger continues to fester inside of me, thrumming through me like a wire of electricity.
Mason, Frankie, and Cal soon follow, one after the other. Mason flashes the crowd a cocky grin as Dimitri announces his name to the masses. I can’t help but notice an abnormally tall woman near the front of the crowd bedecked in a gown of pure silver, snakes hissing and curling around her head. Is that…Medusa? Mason’s mother? She’s the only audience member who isn’t smiling, her lips compressed into a grim line. When she catches me staring, her eyes turn from haughty to livid, pure malice dripping from her as venomous as the poison from her snakes. She looks at me as if I killed her puppy.
“We did it, Pinkie!” Mason cheers with a whoop, racing towards me and lifting me in his arms. He spins me around twice before reluctantly placing me back on my feet.
I try to offer him a feeble smile, but it’s forced. I honestly don’t know how to feel right now. My emotions are turbulent and erratic. A part of me wants to curl into a ball and sob, my grief for Barret nearly palpable. I haven’t fallen apart yet, but that only means the crash is inevitable. You can’t lose someone you care about without severe ramifications. And intertwined with my grief is a need for vengeance so strong and staggering that I feel physically sick. I want to find Alex and his sick, sadistic father and kill them both. I want them to feel every ounce of pain and fear Barret did as he died. I want them to scream for relief—relief only I can give them. I want to be their fucking angel of death.
Finally, I feel immense and cloying worry. I have no idea where Hux and Jack are, if they have made it back yet, if they’re still coming. I pray that they heard Dimitri’s ominous statement towards me before I was pushed through the portal. What if they didn’t make it to the hospital in time? What if they were injured?
Panic pulses through me, and the only thing keeping me from completely succumbing to insanity is the knowledge that they’re still alive. I don’t know how to explain it, but I know innately that they’re still alive and well. I can feel their presence like a ball of light, hovering just at the edge of my awareness. I’m certain I could reach for it if I needed to, could caress it and let them know of my presence.
Is it…?
Is it because we’re mates?
Before that lone, traitorous thought can get traction, Dimitri grabs my arm and begins to drag me towards the Academy’s entrance.
“What the hell?” I gripe, craning my neck to stare back at the others. Cal is nowhere to be seen, but Mason and Frankie are staring after me with knowing expressions. I don’t see Vin, but I have no doubt he’s watching me, despite being hounded by his fan club. And no, I’m not salty, thank you very much. I have a fan club too. It’s just a different type. Mine is more of a “death to Violet Dracula” club. Pretty sure they have matching t-shirts with my face on them and a large red X slicing through the image.
“We need to talk.” His words are domineering, succinct almost. The crisp nature of them matches his immaculate appearance.