Page 5

‘Mmhmm,’ I murmur my fingers dancing down his legs.

I’ve missed this. Jace’s hands on me. Feeling wanted. I didn’t know how much until this moment, even though I know this feeling is only going to be fleeting. My eyes move to his hands curled around my thighs.

What we have isn’t love. It’s not even a real relationship, but it’s something. That’s better than nothing. It’s not enough to distract me from my training, but it’s enough to help keep the dark thoughts at bay.

Ultimately, I crave love. Touch. The closeness to another person, like nothing I have felt before, but I know I will never have this with Jace. The connection isn’t that deep, from either of us. It’s a bit of fun, that’s all it is. Sometimes I just need to remind myself of that.

The Morvanes took me in when I was a child, but it never felt like a home. Everything is quiet, cold, sharp-edged. Love isn’t something we talk about. It’s not something we’re taught. Loyalty, yes. Duty, definitely. Fear, always. But never love.

I’ve spent so long trying to be useful, to fit into a space that was never made for me. Smiling at the right times, keeping my hands folded, swallowing my questions before they make it out of my mouth, but nothing I do ever feels like enough. I’m not magical. I wasn’t born into this family. I’m a stray they brought in and dressed up like one of their own.

There’s a kind of ache I carry that no one seems to notice. A hollow space in my chest that no ritual or rule can fill. I crave something deep – real – something that would crack me open and consume me. Not just affection, but intimacy. The kind that anchors you to the world. The kind that whispers: you’re safe here. You’re wanted. Stay.

My life is more than the family name that’s been branded onto me. I want to be touched gently, not like I’ll break, but like I matter. I want warmth. Softness. Someone who sees me and truly cares.

Not once have I had those things. Jace shows me consistent reminders that I won’t get them from him, but sadly, I’d rather settle for this than have nothing at all.

The ute lurches forward again and I tighten my grip on the door, hoping I don’t slide out of Jace’s lap. I swear Tristan is aiming for every pothole he can find.

The further we travel, the cooler the air gets. It makes sense. Most of the magic in Red Thorne is nestled in the heart of the town, meaning the most supernatural energy is here. It can be felt in the air. The hairs on my arm stand.

The streets are bustling with people. The alleyways and roads are getting busier and busier. It used to be deserted when people were going missing so frequently, but it seems as though people’s usual care factor is slowly fading away. I’m unsure when this shift occurred, but perhaps the missing people are becoming easier to hide, as corruption has become rampant. There truly is no one you can trust anymore. Honestly, I’m not sure if there ever was.

A few people glance over as Tristan hoons down the main street obnoxiously, ignoring the very large speed-limit signs that pass us in a blur. After winding down a few streets, he pulls to a stop in front of a house I don’t recognise. We pile out of the car. Jace flings his arm around my shoulders and guides me toward the front door.

The music rattles the ground and I can hear every lyric perfectly from the street. I take another long swig of Jace’s drink and follow the group inside. Bodies move and grind together, and my skin heats against the stuffy air.

Exhaling, I roll my shoulders, attempting to relax. Parties are supposed to be about having fun and letting loose. This is something I tend to struggle with, when it’s been drilled into my head to always be on guard. Stay alert, stay focused. They’re fast, and they’re out for blood. They can be anywhere, any time. It’s people like me who will have the skills to take them down. The ability to end one of them could save countless lives.

The boys split off almost immediately, and I’m thankful that Jace keeps me tucked by his side as we move through the throng. I recognise a few students from my classes but the rest I don’t know.

We gravitate toward the kitchen, and clusters of people are already here. Jace reaches for a drink and throws a can toward me. I catch it and am quick to crack it open, craving the crisp feeling on my throat. I don’t attend that many parties. The loneliness subsides temporarily and it’s such a welcome feeling.

The air is stale, and I force myself not to focus on the smoke lingering in the air. Jace is already deep in conversation with a girl with big blue eyes and long blond hair. She touches his arm, leaning close to him, and when he leans toward her as well to hear what she says, I exit the kitchen, heat splashing down my neck.

It’s even more chaotic in the living room. Leaning against the wall, I observe the dancers in the middle of the room before landing on a girl whose eyes are locked on me. I freeze. She tilts her head to the side. Standing a little straighter, I lift my chin, panic climbing up my throat. Her upper lip curls in response, and her black eyes narrow slightly, assessing me in a calculating way that causes an icy shiver to run down my spine.

She’s a vampire.

I can’t believe there is one right here, right now, and not one single person around me seems to have any clue. They all wear dazed, clueless expressions. When I look back, she’s gone. I half expect her to be behind me, but when I pivot, I don’t see her anywhere.

Frowning, I do one last scan of the room, starting to wonder whether I actually saw anything at all, or if I somehow imagined it. I haven’t been getting a lot of sleep lately, and now I’m drinking – not that I’ve had much. Maybe I’m just on edge because of all the missing people. It’s probably my own paranoia tricking me. Red Thorne is a creepy place; it’s not unusual to feel on edge.

A shoulder slams into me, and beer sloshes over a cup, splashing across my leg.

‘Oops!’ The same blond girl from earlier in the kitchen giggles, not even looking back at me as she continues on her way.

Rolling my tongue across my teeth, I stride from the room, beelining for the bathroom. After cleaning myself up, I lean heavily on the bench, staring at my own reflection. Golden-brown eyes blink back at me. Dark circles have formed under them, and my skin looks paler than usual.

‘Your blood smells different.’

A sharp gasp leaves me. Whirling around, I face the vampire from earlier. With black hair, blood-red lips, and those demonic eyes, she looks like a pretty demon from hell. And a lot like me.

‘What?’ I whisper. ‘How did you get in here?’

‘Your blood,’ she says, her voice smooth and calm. She folds her arms across her chest as she appraises me. ‘It smells different than usual. Why?’

‘I don’t know what game you’re playing at, but I don’t want any part of it,’ I hiss.