Wild Thing - Michelle Hercules Page 0,73

that we have to put up with Aurora, and that’s only because she’s the future High Witch.”

“If you aren’t happy, go take it up with the headmaster,” I retort, hoping that she does complain. Not that it would do any good. King Raphael caved to the pressure of the Council of Witches. The Thereses of the world aren’t going to change his mind.

She lifts her chin in an arrogant way, but I notice she has lost her bravado. No matter how powerful vampires are, they all secretly fear witches and mages. I wonder what they’d do in the presence of a warlock. Probably shit their pants.

“You bet your ass I will.” Therese turns around and strides away, her high heels rapping the wooden floor.

“What a nice girl,” Calvin says.

“She’s not a girl. She’s a Blueblood. You’d better remember that,” I snap.

My critical response does exactly what I was hoping it would: it aggravates him. His brown eyes become hard, matching the set of his jaw. I meet his sharp stare without flinching. In the end, he’s the one who looks away first, switching his attention to Vivienne and Rikkon.

“What’s going on here? Is that regular sick?”

Relief washes over me. Rikkon’s glamour is still in place. “Yes, he’s sick. Freshman prank.”

“Can we go now?” he moans again, clutching his stomach.

“Yes, absolutely.”

We continue our trek to his apartment, but unfortunately, Calvin decides to tag along.

“You don’t need to accompany us,” I say.

“It’s no trouble. I’m done for the evening.” A yawn sneaks up on him, which he tries to hide by covering his mouth. “I just came from a meeting with Hanson. He was telling me about his Keepers program. Fascinating stuff.”

Furtively, I glance at Vivienne. Her expression is shut off. No surprise there. Hanson put her in the hands of Boone not too long ago. I don’t know how Lucca had the self-control to not kill the guy.

“I don’t know what’s so fascinating about it. I’ve been forced to attend his classes. They’re a snooze fest. I’ve learned more by taking self-defense lessons at the local YMCA.”

“Why would you need to enroll in a self-defense class?” Calvin asks, sounding truly surprised.

“Really? Do you have to ask? I’m the future High Witch. You don’t think that position comes with risks?”

“That’s why you’re marrying me. I’ll make sure you’re protected.”

“With what skills? I’m far superior to you when it comes to magic, and you look like you need to hit the gym more often.”

Calvin’s pale face becomes red in the blink of an eye, and a vein throbs on his temple. He looks like he’s having an aneurism. Ha! Wouldn’t that be nice?

“First of all, you’re not better than me at using magic. Don’t fool yourself. And the gym? Seriously? Are you out of your mind? We’re not vampires who deal with our issues using fists and fangs. We’re magic users, darling. We’re above savagery.”

I glower at him. I can’t believe he just spewed that prejudiced garbage out loud in a building full of vampires. His arrogant comment may have flown right over Vivienne’s, Rikkon’s, and Vaughn’s heads because the first two aren’t vamps, and Vaughn is too new to the whole thing to feel the jab. But he does earn a few glares from the regulars that are in the hallway.

“Just stop talking,” I say.

We’re almost at the end of the corridor when Rikkon stops suddenly. He glances over his shoulder, frowning. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Vivienne asks.

“This eerie voice calling my name.”

“I heard nothing,” Vaughn replies.

I follow his line of vision, and at once, my blood runs cold. He’s staring at the stairs that lead to the catacombs. Shit. Is the specter calling to him? But how can he hear it all the way up here? Vivienne couldn’t hear Madeleine unless she was near the secret chamber.

“What is he talking about?” Calvin looks over my head, probably trying to see what caught Rikkon’s attention.

“He must be delirious thanks to the human food he consumed.” I turn to Rikkon. “Come on, buddy. We need to get that poison out of your system.”

We resume our slow progress, but it seems the clusterfuck of problems has only begun. Rikkon cries out again, falling to his knees when Vivienne can’t support his dead weight. He clutches his head with both hands while grunting in pain.

“Rikkon!” She crouches next to him. “Talk to me.”

“It’s happening again.”

Shit. Shit. Shit. I look around, grimacing at the attention we’re gathering. The few regulars in the hallway move closer,

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