Total pages in book: 164
Estimated words: 157308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 787(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 787(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Nothing good.
Stretching, I slipped out from under him and started getting ready. I collected my homework off my desk and stuffed it in my pack. The list of my secrets tumbled out.
Rage flaring up hot and fierce, I snatched it up, ripped out my lighter, and set it on fire. Black crawled along the edges—devouring every horrid word so the only place it’d live is in my mind.
“I thought I only had to worry about Cato with a lighter in his hands.” Rafael leaned on my doorframe. “You okay?”
I dropped the remains in my waste bin. “Fine. But I do understand Cato a lot better now. There’s something satisfying about seeing the things you hate go up in flames. Orgasmic is the word.”
“Oh yeah, I definitely have to worry about you too. But say orgasmic again anyway.”
I gave him a look, though the corner of my mouth curled up. “What’s for breakfast?”
“I made you something special. ’Cause of yesterday.”’
“Really? You didn’t have to do that.”
“Then, stop looking so happy that I did.” He turned away, tossing over his shoulder. “Now I’ll have to do it every morning to see that smile on your face. I’ve got shit of my own to do, Sinclair.”
I giggled. “I’m sorry for your suffering.”
I followed him and the heavenly scents downstairs. I found Lucien in the kitchen, lifting up pot lids and checking out Rafael’s creations. “Would you like some?” I asked.
“No, thank you. I have my own breakfast.”
“What is it you’re drinking?” I blurted. “It’s not blood. It can’t be.”
Backing toward the fridge, Lucien swept it open with a flourish. His mugs of red liquid innocently filled the doorway.
“Try it yourself and tell me.”
Looking at him dead on, I picked up a mug, popping off the top. Our silent stand-off raged as I sniffed the contents and came away with nothing. It didn’t smell like blood—which apparently smelled like rust. But it also didn’t smell like raspberries or goji berries, anything that would explain why it really really looked like blood.
Lucien plucked a straw out of the drawer and popped it in. “Go ahead.”
I wrapped my lips around the plastic, flashing back to his lips on mine. The heat of our bodies. The gentleman act dissolving in the fervor of clashing tongues. His fangs breaking my skin... and his smoldering hunger as he tasted my blood.
I released the straw, letting the drink drop back moments from touching my tongue. “Actually, Rafael went through the trouble of making me breakfast, so I should eat that.” My face was burning up and my cowardice wasn’t the reason. Lucien’s knowing smirk said he wasn’t confused about why either.
I ate my garden frittata with all the sides, talking to Rafael and Lucien while Wilder was upstairs doing whatever Wilder did. He was walking me to class that morning.
“Owen and Levi are back at school,” Lucien said. “The other guys too. They all showed up yesterday in our last class.”
My knife clanged too hard on the plate. “I see.”
“They could’ve come back sooner,” Rafael added. “I’m betting they begged off more time, so the bruises would heal and they could roll in like nothing happened.”
“So, they spent the last few days kicking back poolside with the butler on call.”
Rafael stroked my whitening knuckles. “Vacation’s over.”
“Damn right.”
Wilder chose that moment to come downstairs. “Ready?”
“I’m ready.”
I picked up my things and we headed out. That yummy breakfast turned in my stomach as we reached the main part of campus. Students crossed the quad—laughing, huddling, and passing a list back and forth.
Wilder veered off, advancing fast on a couple of guys in lacrosse gear. He snatched it out of their grip.
“Hey, man, what’s your problem?!”
Wilder rose up, broad shoulders square. I swallowed from across the lawn seeing him tower over them. “I don’t have a problem. Do you?”
They backed down quick. It was easy to mistake Wilder for a harmless nut, until you peeked that bodybuilder form and realized only half of that was true. “Nah, dude, chill. You can have it. There’s a bunch more in the café.”
Wilder came back to me, handing me the page. “What do you think?”
It wasn’t my name written on top.
The Truth About Giovanni Natale
Number One: He pays a Dreg to do all his assignments.
Number Two: He has a coke problem. Stumble over him on a Friday night and you’ll meet the original Snow White.
Number Three: He comes from a family of thieves. His grandfather tried to get credit for the Montana guidance system. When that didn’t work, they stole the design of the Natale Telescope from the late Alvin Perry.
Number Four: He’s been cheating on Annika with the daughter of his rival family, Gabriella Montana.
Number Five: And when Annika caught them, Gabriella pushed her off the bluffs and they both abandoned her to die.
“Now this,” I said, “is more like it.”