Page 5

Ever nods and lowers her voice even more. “Rowan has the long hair, and the guys with him are Drake and Bellamy. If they tell you to do something, you do it. No questions asked.”

“I’ll take that under consideration.” The truth is, I’ve never been good at doing what I’m told. “Anything else I should know about these assholes?”

“Assholes, huh?” A deep, slightly raspy voice coasts over my skin.

My eyes flutter closed. Shit. They heard me. I glance over my shoulder, frowning as I realize we’re right in front of them, and of course with my luck, the line has stopped moving.

Maybe I deeply offended Vaeloria, the Goddess of Creation and our divine mother, in a past life. Why else is my life so shitty?

I take in the three of them like opponents in the ring. My earlier assessment holds true. These three are taller than most paranormals. Each of them a few inches over six feet. From left to right, they’re like a lineup of the best this realm has to offer from each species.

The one who spoke has deep crimson rings around his irises and black hair that’s stark against his ivory complexion. It should make him look delicate, but with his hard features and muscled physique, he could be carved from marble. No blemishes, only pure, unadulterated good looks. Most vampires can only shadow walk. He seems to have command of them, the dark mist billowing around his form, teasing the air. A blatant display of power.

His being hot and strong is, frankly, really fucking annoying.

The guy next to him has cropped brown hair and his skin is tanner, like he doesn’t mind lying out in the sun. He’s also not hard to look at, but the impassive way he watches me, almost as if he can’t be bothered to notice me, makes me bristle. I’m just another Feral to him. There’s no ring of red around his emerald eyes or the preternatural light of a beast lurking within. This one is a mage, then.

The last one, Rowan, has eyes that are like twin pools of liquid gold. I swear I can see his animal pacing as he assesses me. His skin is bronzed, long brown hair pulled back and piled into a bun that really shouldn’t work, but somehow he pulls it off. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s a bit burlier, taller, and buffer than his friends. The stubble along his jawline doesn’t hurt, either.

I get why the other girls were trying to catch their attention, but the very fact that they’re Foundations and they act like it turns me all the way off.

“Hi,” my new friend says, voice strong and poised. “I’m Ever. Wolf shifter.”

I envy her confidence.

“Hey, Ever. I’m Bellamy. Who’s your little friend?” The vampire has dark hair that’s just long enough to be swept back to keep from falling in his face. He looks me up and down. “She’s short. Cute.” He licks his teeth, tongue caressing sharp fangs. “Bitable. Goddess, I’m suddenly parched.” His irises pulse with crimson, and he digs a sharp tooth into his bottom lip.

Everything I’ve heard has made me morbidly curious about the types of pleasure fangs can bring, but there’s no way I’d let him bite me. Especially not when he’d brag to his friends about snaring a Feral.

“Come on, love.” He smirks like he’s already caught me. “Let me have a little taste?”

Absolutely not. I arch an eyebrow and scoff. “Not interested.”

The shifter with the bun glances away, hiding a smile.

The mage he’s with narrows his eyes. “Keep moving, Feral.”

“Oh, come on, Drake, let me play.” Bellamy reaches for me, shadows circling around me.

{Stop him.}

The voice and I are riding the same train. My dagger is out of its sheath and poised at his muscled neck in an instant, our final destination. Sure, I can’t use my affinities, but I have my enhanced abilities, and I’m not afraid to use them. “What do we do when a lady says no?”

His friends step toward me, but the vampire holds up his hand to stop them. The red around his irises spreads, spiderwebbing into the brown as the tip of my blade digs into his skin.

Great. He’s really thirsty now.

“Knife play, huh?” he purrs. His shadows coil around my wrist, humming with power, but they don’t try to stop me. “Is that your kink?” He presses into the dagger, probably thinking I’ll pull back.

Silly vampire.

I don’t waver. The weathered blade digs into his skin. A bead of crimson blood slips down his neck. People in line gasp and whispers erupt around us like the hissing of snakes, but I don’t look away. That would make him think he’s won.

“Are you flirting with me?” He whispers the question, deranged delight making his nostrils flare as he breathes me in, trying to scent my blood.

Ugh. Great. This is the type of Foundation who’s never heard no. I guess that’s what happens when you’re basically paranormal royalty? Well, I’ll happily be the one to put him in his place.

“Flirting?” I ask with a curled lip and shake my head. “Definitely not.” I drag the blade across his neck, not deep enough to seriously injure him but enough that his skin splits and blood seeps from the wound, staining the gray T-shirt stretched across his broad chest.