Wordless: new adult paranormal romance (Age of Blood Book 1) (7 page)

“That’s an honorable policy,” was all she said.

“Honorable could have been his middle name if it wasn’t already Vlad.”

Fay turned to Jessica, chuckling. The idea of Vlad the Vampire had its appeal.

“Like Dracula?”

“You don’t know half of it. I’m telling you, but you haven’t heard it from me, ok?”

She nodded eagerly in response.

“He’s from Transylvania.”

“
No.
”

“Born around fourteen twenty or so.”

“You’re shitting me.”

“I kid you not. You want the worst thing? His name’s Drake nowadays, but it used to be Dracul.”

“Fuck me.” 

They laughed like silly girls, bonding over the most unlikely rumor she’d ever heard.

“Yeah, I also thought that was rubbish, at first. Then I met his brother. He’s called Vlad, too. Believe me, you will
not
be able to stand in the same room as him without shivering.”

Fay waggled an eyebrow, curious.

“While they share some resemblance, he’s very different from William. He might as well have invented the whole mysteriously scary thing. Most of his movements are pretty slow, for one of us. Calculated. He looks at you as though he can see your soul… and he can. He reads minds.”

That did sound pretty intimidating… yet Fay would have been more scared if Jessica had described Vincent’s careless disregard for anything past his own enjoyment; she’d take someone who judged individuals based on their thoughts any day.

“And now I guess, you have to add the fact that he’s our King.”

They’d arrived back home by then, and that conversation made Fay realize just how little she knew of those around her, which awakened her curiosity.

More observant now, she took in the emblem over the reception desk – something imposing and definitely regal: a dragon devouring a heart. How appropriate.

There were people sitting in a waiting area; she’d walked out with her head bowed down low before, so she hadn’t paid them much attention. Now, she frowned, wondering what they could be doing there.

She asked Jessica, who shrugged.

“Anything, really. There are offices on the first twenty floors – administrative stuffs, mainly. You know, registration of births, deaths, marriages, applications for grants and welfare.”

“Like in a city hall?”

“Exactly like that. There,” she indicated, pointing at large doors beyond the elevator they were taking, “you can get to the gardens. Inside, there’s a dome with a ballroom that we can get over a thousand people in comfortably. It was a bitch to find a place suitable for all that when William claimed New York, so we razed two ugly skyscrapers and built it.”

“You mean to say that William
owns
New York City.”

“New York state,” she amended. “He doesn’t really have much to do with the actual running of things, though – William’s a Knight.”

She said that like it should have made Fay immediately understand what she meant. Catching her puzzlement, Jessica told her,

“Damn. You have a lot to learn. The Academy’s going to be a bit of a shock to the system. Knights answer directly to the King. They are above the law and their sole purpose is to protect the Coven. They have soldiers under their command – I’m one of William’s. That’s why William delegates most of the day-to-day politics around here.”

After that, she reasoned that nothing else she might learn about him would surprise her; he was an actual Knight – she would have bet he owned a shining armor or two. Nothing could beat that.

Or so she thought.

The following night was Monday, her first day at the Academy and by the time she’d left, she’d decided that there was a possibility she might be in a coma, and dreaming up the whole thing.

The Academy took over an entire block, carved into an imposing beaux-art edifice with columns, high, arched ceilings, teal blue roof and all. Fay had read somewhere that it used to be a hotel; she could image that – it certainly didn’t look like the school she used to attend.

She tiptoed inside just before nine, as she’d been asked to, and stood dazedly in front of a grand stone staircase.

She didn’t belong there. She really didn’t want to go up to the dean’s office, just to be told that there had been a huge mistake somewhere and that she hadn’t been accepted after all.

“No one is going to bite you,” Jessica said, meaning it quite literally. “I’ll be close, in any case.”

That was reassuring and confusing, too; she wasn’t quite sure how the vampire could have the time to stay with her every night. She’d been about to ask, when a voice commandeered her attention. 

“Ms. Turner, I presume.”

Her head snapped up, to a severe, elegant woman with salt and pepper hair pulled in a tight bun at the top of her head.

She stared at her, from her boots to her jacket, making Fay wish that she’d listened to Agnes and worn the damn epaulettes.

“You’re early,” the woman told her. “Good. Might as well start your tour from here.”

She gestured her forward and started talking.

“I understand you’ve already graduated from an online university – I might have dismissed it, if it wasn’t for your results. Impressive.” Then, suddenly changing the course of the discussion, the lady pointed left on the first floor. “You’ll find the literature wing that way. You will report to Sir Montgomery to continue the course of your master’s in literature, from next semester on.”

“Next semester?”

She was struggling to catch up with the woman’s long strides, so that came out breathier than what she would have liked.

“Yes. I understand that while you’re very well versed in British and American literature, your general knowledge of vampires might be lacking. You’ll take history, customs, and social science, if you find it acceptable. They are mandatory to anyone wishing to graduate from our establishment.”

There was no discussing that tone.

The lady gestured towards each buildings and the cafeteria, before leaving her with a schedule and dismissing her, informing her that she’d be expected to attend her next class in ten minutes.

She really was in.

Seven

Fay could barely wrap her head around everything she saw, let alone what sprouted out of her professor’s mouth. Part of it was the fact that she’d enrolled one month after the beginning of term but to be honest, the main issue was that the whole world she’d known had apparently been an illusion.

A crappy illusion, at that.

After the ten o’clock bell, the corridors filled with students and there were vampires around her. A lot of them.

She bowed her head and looked away at first, trying to disappear in the crowd. Eventually, she tripped on her own feet like a klutz.

Jessica hadn’t left her, as she’d promised, but she’d been at the end of the corridor, so she wasn’t close enough to save her from herself.

“Careful, darling,” a southern drawl told her, and she looked up to find herself held up by a smiling, cheeky, and friendly vampire.

Really. All those adjectives described him, mind blowing as it was.

“The whole walking thing works better when you try one foot at the time, gorgeous. Although, you’re very welcome to swoon in front of me anytime.”

And with a wink, he was on his merry way.

She stared at his back for a full minute, before shaking her head and writing him off as yet another fluke.

Then, a little later, she felt a sharp object between her shoulder blades and turned to see another vampire – a female, this time.

“Can I borrow a pencil, or a sharpener? Mine broke,” she pouted.

She’d been surrounded by hundreds of vampires over the course of five hours and the only one who’d wanted something from her had been after a pencil.

There also were humans, she noticed when she started to tentatively look around her. They hung around immortals, chatting comfortable, like they weren’t prey.

They weren’t, apparently.

William, Jessica, and Charlotte were three individuals; she’d reasoned that they were just exceptions, but she’d seen more vampires that one night than she had in her entire life – and all of them had been awfully… normal. Non-threatening.

Had she woken up in a different universe?

Her fellow students were as curious about her as she was about them. Some just glanced her way, but others were bold enough to catch her in the corridors in between lectures.

She’d heard a few different variations of “what are you doing here,” some more polite than others. Her first explanations were clumsy, but eventually, she’d managed to get the hang of a believable excuse.

“I wasn’t here at the beginning of term because I was sick.”

No one questioned it: Fay had always been slender but three years at Vincent’s had made her thin in a way that wasn’t quite healthy. Eating her fill and keeping the bulk of her blood for a few days had done wonders, rounding up her edges a little bit, but she could imagine that it was easy to believe she hadn’t been well recently.

A girl who seemed a little bit younger than her, sporting round glasses and a shy demeanor approached her after she’d satisfied yet another group with her generic answer.

“Hey, I think you’re in most of my classes. I was wondering if anyone has offered you notes? Profession Rhys said anything we’ve covered might end up in the exams.”

The teachers had given her a list of books to read, as well as the previous assignments, and had also said she could request a tutor if she needed to, but she thanked the girl, grateful for all the help she could get.

“Sorry, I write long handed,” she shot her an apologetic look, “we’ll have to make copies.”

The girl produced a well-organized folder full of pages which were skillfully scribed in an even, old-fashioned calligraphy.

“That’s your
notes
? It looks so beautiful.”

She shrugged.

“My mom taught me to write with a quill; I can deal with fountain pens, but I never got a hang of the pencil thing. I hope you can read it.”

The tone was apologetic, again.

“It’s pretty amazing.”

The girl smiled, and all of the sudden, two long fangs extended.

Fay was taken aback, shocked because she was normally good at spotting vampires, yet everything about that girl had struck her as a hundred percent human.

She was pretty, but in an understated way, and her blond hair frizzed a little; she blushed, too – something she’d never seen any vampire do.

“Sorry!” The girl’s hand covered her mouth. “I’m not very good at controlling them. And you smell so good. I mean… Sorry.”

Fay smiled, not feeling even a little bit threatened. If anything, that vampire was even less confident than her – something she wouldn’t have thought possible if she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes.

“I’m an AB neg,” Fay shrugged.

It was one of the things that defined her as much as her raven black hair, her brown eyes, but the girl’s eyes went wide, as though she’d confessed that she had a tail and horns.

“Wow. I’ve never smelt one before. Mama can’t afford to buy anything but common O positive; I got B plus for my birthday, once. I’m only here on scholarship.” 

Reading between the lines, Fay deduced: “You’re born a vampire.”

Ninety-nine percent of vampires were made, rather than born; she wasn’t quite certain why.

Needless to say, she’d never seen a fledgling before; from what she’d understood, vampires protected them like the precious treasure they were.

That explained why Fay had mistaken her for a human: she was pretty close to it. Sure, she drank blood, but she had yet to freeze in time, or develop inhuman strength. She was mortal, vulnerable, and she would be until her body changed.

“Yeah. It’s not all that, take my word for it.”

She meant it, Fay could see it in her eyes. 

It was fascinating and wonderful to hear that vampires had their problems, too. She might have pried, but well, she didn’t even know the girl’s name.

“I’m Fay, by the way.”

“Sola. Sola Klein.”

Fay froze, before forcing a breath out.

There were probably plenty of Klein; that didn’t mean she was related to Adrian. Right?

“Nice to meet you. I have to run – I have a class in five. Shall we meet up here at three tomorrow morning? I’ll give your notes back.”

“Sure. Should we exchange numbers?”

Fay eagerly fetched her new phone, delighted at the prospect of adding a name to her dreadfully small list of contacts.

She added Sola and they parted ways but Fay continued staring at the phone for a long time.

There it was just under Sola’s name. William Drake.

She’d noticed his number as soon as she’d turned her brand new phone on, but the idea of ever actually making use of it had seemed preposterous. Who was she to call an immortal – the most influential immortal she’d ever seen, of all people.

Now she started to understand that it might actually be perfectly acceptable – just like contacting Sola. They were just people – William was a guy she knew.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she awkwardly typed a short text and ran to her class.

The lecture highlighting the never-ending conflict between witches and vampires – there were
witches
, apparently – might very well have been fascinating, but it dragged for what felt like an entire night.

Finally, the last bell rang. Fay had her phone out before she’d even moved to pack her laptop.

Her eyes budged when she saw she had two messages –
two.

In answer to her quick and formal, “thank you so much for this opportunity,” he’d responded,
“
y
ou’re enjoying yourself, then?
” followed by a
“and consider all expressions of thanks forbidden.”

Nothing in there justified the smile plastered on her face, but it wasn’t going anywhere. He’d replied.

A month later, foreign as it might have seemed at first, she was used to her new life.

She woke up later than she should, caught a quick shower and grabbed the packed lunch the chef never failed to wrap in a brown bag; then she ran all the way from Drake Tower to the Academy, swearing that she’d wake up earlier the next night.

She’d aced the two tests they’d had so far, because everything her teachers said fascinated her – she didn’t even need to rerun through her notes, everything was forever imprinted in her mind.

Sola, as shy as her, became another fixture; they ate lunch together, chatting about irrelevant stuff. Fay liked her: she didn’t pry, which meant that there was no need to lie to her.

It was obvious that they were very different people, though – not because Sola would become immortal, some day; because she was innocent. She blushed and looked away every time some cute guy smiled at her, while Fay was completely immune to flirting.

“Texting again?”

She was.

They never said anything deep or meaningful, but every night around her break, she received one message from William – the highlight of her day.

“Every guy here has tried to catch your eyes at least once, and you never even blink, yet every time you get a text, you try to out-smile the Cheshire cat. Fess up. Who’s your man?”

Fay stared blankly, puzzled by what Sola was saying. Sure, she’d noticed that some guys looked at her, but she couldn’t deal with that kind of attention – not yet.

She still felt a silent need she’d subdued, but it was there, she could feel it. She didn’t want to let her body have its say and dictate that she should turn into a slut to satisfy its craving for what it was used to.

Flirting might be harmless for Sola, who would never think of taking it further with just anyone.

Fay, on the other hand, would make mistakes given half a chance – and she’d regret them.

“They only want me for my blood,” she shrugged.

Sola rolled her eyes.

“Right. I’m sure that’s exactly what the
human
guys want you for.”

She frowned, even more perplexed. Had any human seemed to want her? She couldn’t recall anything of the sort.

“That guy must be something if you see no one else but him,” her friend smiled knowingly.

At first, she opened her mouth to deny it, but she closed it.

“By the way, I was thinking about getting a tat. In about five years, I won’t be able to do anything permanent to my skin, so I have to start soon – I want a big one, and it’s pretty expensive so I have to spread it out.”

Fay embraced the change of subject.

“A tattoo?”

Surprising; Sola seemed a bit too prim and proper for that.

“Yeah, I’d like wings on my back – my family’s emblem is a Hawk. Wanna come with? I could use some opinion on the design.”

Jessica in tow, they were heading to a Brooklyn parlor at four.

Fay had never thought about tattoos one way or another before that day. Watching the pictures on the wall, peeping at the clients who were getting marked around her, she was fascinated. What appealed to her was that they often seemed to tell a story – sometimes, a painful one. She could see vines and thorns, and they’d made it into something utterly beautiful.

Her body hadn’t been hers to do as she pleased as far as she could remember. Now, it was, and she wanted to own it.

She had her phone in her hand before she’d thought it out. First, she typed the words “can I,” but she soon erased them, knowing he would be pissed at her for asking permission. Besides, she didn’t need to.

I am getting a tattoo.

Immediately, three little dots started moving, indicating that William was replying. Then, they stopped – before starting again. Five times.

The response was short, when it came.

Good.

A tattoo. Pretty little Fay had an edge – he’d understood that the instant he’d seen what she’d bought when he’d let her loose with his credit card. Fuck, that was hot. He had to physically prevent himself from asking her to get a dragon – the mark of a Drake.