Barret—otherwise known as the Boogeyman—is an intimidating monster standing at over six feet tall. He has dark skin the color of obsidian stones and green-tipped hair. Power ripples just beneath his skin, illuminating his veins in shades of green.
Before I can respond, the door to the teacher’s lounge is kicked open, and Mason and Cal enter carrying an assortment of chocolate food. I spot everything from candy bars to ice cream to chocolate-covered strawberries.
Cal drops the items down with an exaggerated huff.
“Pretty men like me shouldn’t be carrying stuff,” he laments, dramatically fanning his face. I can’t help but snort at Cal’s petty-ass attitude.
Not that he’s wrong. The man is gorgeous.
The world depicts Cupid as being a pudgy baby wearing a diaper. The reality? Cupid is a sexy hunk of man meat. His light pink hair is rumpled, and I can’t tell if I find it endearing or concerning. Cal is obsessed with his appearance, so I’m going to go with the latter. His skin is lightly tanned, devoid of any blemishes, and his broad shoulders narrow down to a tapered waist. Brilliant red wings sprout from his back, swaying with each movement he makes.
“I’m pretty,” Mason retorts, dropping his own container of ice cream onto the dusty counter. “You’re…well, you’re not hideous.”
Cal ruffles his feathers, eyes narrowing into slits, as Mason flashes a shit-eating grin.
“He’s Cupid,” Barret mutters. “Of course he’s not hideous.”
The Boogeyman? Sweet as can be, but not the sharpest tool in the shed. He doesn’t really understand sarcasm.
“Enough!” I step in between Medusa’s son and Cupid, placing a hand on both of their chests. I push Cal backwards, planting myself firmly in front of him as I face Mason. As always, he is bedecked in a purple flannel shirt unbuttoned over a simple gray one. His signature beanie rests snugly on his head, magicked by Frankie to remain on him no matter the situation. When I turn back towards Cal, he flicks his eyes downwards and offers me a wry grin.
“What were my two favorite people doing before I arrived? You weren’t having fun without me, were you?” Though his tone is teasing, I detect jealousy lingering just beneath the surface.
I’ve always known that Cal has a serious case of FOMO—Fear Of Missing Out—but lately, he has been taking it to an extreme.
Not that I can blame him. Both Cal and Barret are trapped in the upper levels of the Academy. They’re deemed too dangerous to associate with the other students, though why people would think that remains a mystery. They’re nothing but teddy bears to me.
Murderous teddy bears, but teddy bears all the same.
Their prison also serves as “detention” for the other monsters. Misbehaving students are sent here when they either need to be scared straight or killed.
In our world? There is no in-between.
“Cheese Curd is sad,” Barret pipes in helpfully.
“What’s the matter, Pinkie?” Mason asks immediately, sidling up so he’s between me and Cal, shoving the winged man back with a jab of his hips. He wraps his muscular arms around my waist, and I lean into his calming touch. Licks of fire spark across my skin, setting me ablaze at the menial contact.
Cal’s brows scrunch together over Mason’s shoulders as he surveys me. “It looks as if…as if her heart has been broken.”
“I don’t have a heart,” I protest immediately. All three men exchange wary looks, which only serves to piss me off further. “Seriously. I don’t. I’m the most feared monster in this entire fucking Academy. I can’t afford to.”
Mason’s arms tighten around me almost imperceptibly as Cal takes a step closer. His foreboding yet sympathetic expression immediately puts me on guard.
“It’s okay to have your heart broken, Violet,” he says, and his words eerily remind me of Jack’s from last night. “It’s also okay to cut up the man’s body and eat it for supper.”
Barret licks his lips, a faraway, wistful glaze to his eyes. “Yum. I haven’t had man meat in a while.”
“You’ll get your man meat soon,” I assure my terrifying monster friend. Immediately, my mind flickers to the erotic scene I witnessed between Cal and Barret.
Oh, yes. He’ll definitely have some man meat soon.
“I don’t know what happened,” Cal continues, intentionally ignoring my attempt to change the subject. “But you’re not less of a monster because you feel hurt, Vi.”
With great reluctance, I detangle myself from Mason’s embrace and step into Cal’s.
“Why do men have to suck so much?” I whisper, inhaling his pine and coppery smell. It reminds me distinctly of nature, of being outdoors. They’re not scents I would normally associate with the incubus.
“Because we’re dumb,” Barret adds, sandwiching me between them. The heat their combined bodies emit is almost palpable. I shiver delicately as Barret runs his nose along the side of my neck.
“Well, we’re not dumb,” Cal protests vehemently. “I have a doctorate degree from Yale.”
At that, I pull away from him to stare into his eyes. “For real?”
“For real.” He bobs his head decisively. “In Molecular Biology.” Cal’s practically preening, his wings fluttering around him in shades of pearlescent pink and red.
“Um…speaking about M-words,” Barret ventures timidly. I turn in Cal’s arms towards the mountainous man. He forks his fingers through his green hair uncomfortably. “Where did Mason go?”
Chapter 6
Mason
“What the fuck did you do?” I roar as I storm into Vin’s room in our shared house. The man himself is sitting at his desk, absently twirling a blade between his fingers.
He doesn’t look up when I enter, and that pisses me off more than anything else.
“Answer me, dammit!” I explode, lunging forward and turning his chair to face me. My breath rushes out of my lungs when I note his despondent, agonized expression. The dude looks like someone ate his puppy.
My anger diminishes as I release his shoulders and collapse onto the floor in front of him. I’m a monster, but even I’m not heartless enough to kick an already fallen man.
In a softer tone, I ask, “What the fuck did you do?”
Reaching into my shirt pocket, I grab a lighter and a joint of Fairy Blossom. When I offer a second one to Vin, he surprises the shit out of me by accepting it. In all the years I’ve known him, Vin has never partaken in drugs, except for a few times at parties. But depression smoking? Hell no. He must be more upset than I initially suspected.
“I fucked up, Mase,” he whispers brokenly, scrubbing a calloused hand down his face. I spread my legs out in front of me and rest back on my palms. My joint dangles precariously from my lips as I inhale sharply. Immediately, tingles race up and down my spine as the drug’s magic cocoons me.
“Tell your old friend Mason all about it,” I say, patting my lap. “Come here. Let me cuddle you.”
His disgusted look? Fucking hilarious.
“I keep screwing things up with Violet,” he admits at last, taking a long drag of Fairy Blossom. When he blows, purple smoke suffuses the room in a light sheen. “I’ve never had a girl I actually cared about before, you know?” He leans back in his desk chair and closes his eyes. “She’s my mate, man. My fucking mate.”