Page 2 of Volik

It tilts its head. Like it’s judging me.

I open my mouth and hiss at it.

It darts into the street with a squeak.

Feeling slightly mollified, I watch it run across the blacktop, jump onto the opposite curb, and turn away from a pair of legs standing next to a mailbox.

Great.

Lifting my gaze, I watch the back of a man as he speed walks to his front door, leaving his mailbox hanging open.

Hissing at a squirrel might have been overkill, but I have been living outside this town for a decade, and I have never caused any issues. I walk this exact route more days than not. And that man’s scent is soaked into his yard and house, so he’s not new here. He’s just a coward.

I roll my eyes and continue walking.

A minute that feels like a year later, I reach campus.

This is still a residential neighborhood, but for the next several blocks, this side of the street belongs to the school. And behind the university is a forest that stretches many miles in either direction, bordering the town and extending north even farther.

Turning off the sidewalk, I step onto one of the many walking paths that crisscross through campus, cutting between and connecting the sturdy brick buildings that each host a different topic of study or purpose.

Passing under the gaudy arch that designates this as Stalden University, I take another deep breath, tasting the air.

Something…

I pause and close my eyes as I let the next inhale linger on my tongue.

Something is different.

I open my eyes and glare at the cloudy sky.

Fall semester started a few weeks ago, so a lot of new bodies arrived, changing the way the air smelled. But I have been here every weekday since. I know their scents. I know the way the air should feel here.

But it’s like that something is a ghost. A scent in some other dimension, disrupting the air waves here but still intangible. Like a mirage I can feel but cannot see.

My skull creaks as pain rolls through my bones, and I clench my jaw.

It is related.

The headache that should not exist and the scent I cannot smell… it all has to be related.

I scan the grounds. The students strolling across the lawn. The voices bouncing off buildings. Looking for anything that stands out.

But nothing does.

Nothing feels dangerous.

Giving in to my irritation over the whole morning, I undo the buttons at my cuffs and shove my sleeves up.

The cool air connects with my overheated forearms, and the clash of temperatures makes it look like my body is steaming.

Someone gasps behind me. Another downside of a new semester—new students who have never seen a vampire before. But I ignore them and head toward my office.

Chapter 2

Nix

The sole of my leather ankle boot squeaks as I twist my toe on the waxed wood floor.