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Cecilia
Iexited the building into a sunny day and heaved a sigh of relief. I’d survived my first class at New Lincoln.
More than survived. Professor Belanger was an excellent teacher. He didn’t look the part, with his size and attire, but he really knew his stuff. Although it worried me he seemed so uncomfortable having a human in his class. I reaffirmed my commitment to being the best student he’d ever had. I’d show him, and all my professors, that being the only human on campus bore no relation to how diligent I could be or how well I could do here.
And a bonus this morning: no one had tried to eat me.
Mr. Scowly though. What had he wanted? If you wanted to learn about your classmates, even your human one, why not ask politely? His attitude screamed, “The world is beneath my polished shoes and oh, why don’t you polish them again while you’re down there.” Mr. Scowly with a side of cocky.
But with a face and body like that, I kinda understood it. He was as handsome as a movie star. His eyes radiated a unique sparkle, like emeralds held up to the shining summer sun. His attire and whole aura were so far beyond what I was used to. Suave and well-bred. There wasn’t one sandy blonde hair out of place on his immaculately clipped and combed head.
Oh, and the subtle peaks of his ears clearly signaled his Fae race. Hello, surprise! I’d missed those under his hair at first. But when he’d come up after class, there they were, peeking out.
And it was such a surprise because everyone knew the Fae royal family in England had managed to negotiate their race’s own special status about the Nebraska Agreement. They weren’t completely exempt from restrictions across the rest of the US, or the world, of course, but apparently, Fae had a much easier time than other paranormals. Some said that was due to their strong powers and the potential trouble they could cause human governments if provoked. Although others thought it was just because they had such fervent aversion to getting along with vampires, shifters, and elementals, it had been deemed there was no clear advantage to coercing and manipulating them to relocate to New Nebraska. And yet, this particular cocky Fae seemed to have voluntarily decided to study here. I wondered why.
Contrary to what I’d told Mr. Scowly, I still had a bit of time to get to my next class. So I decided to stroll through the main part of campus, enjoying the weather, feeling washes of warm gold on my face and neck, admiring the bountiful trees and the blooming flowers that fluttered and swooned from the wind’s tender kisses. Birds warbled and chirped from among the branches, and I even saw an adorable little squirrel scampering and leaping directly above me, his cheeks puffed out with nuts. It made me smile as I sauntered through the warmth and greenery, drinking from the breeze.
My mom and I could be happy here. This was night and day compared to our last home, in a rundown town outside of Vegas.
Humming to myself as I strolled, I was in mid-text to my mom, making sure she’d seen the chicken dish and smoothie I’d left, and letting her know I’d be home late because of my first self-defense class that afternoon, when an angry shout jerked me to a stop.
I looked up and a chill washed over me.
A huge number of male students were swelling within the central square. It seemed to be two opposing groups, massing in clusters, posturing, and glowering behind their respective leaders, who stood with their faces just inches from each other, clearly on the brink of an all-out brawl.
There must have been at least twenty on each side. And they were steadily being joined by more. As their numbers surged, jostling, goading, they began spilling over from the square, across its connecting pathways.
Feeling my pulse quickening, I gulped. I could turn back, but I’d be late for my first Intro to Psych class. I’d just have to skirt around the side of the confrontation as best I could and hope they could hold on to their anger until I was safely past.
I walked closer, cautiously. The guys to the far side were all athletic, lean and very tall, decked out almost all in black. Black T-shirts. Black jeans or slacks. Even black dress shoes and vans, and a few black baseball caps. Black seemed to be a thing with them.
I was close enough to see the crimson in several of their eyes and their smug grins screamed vampire. Maybe a coven, with the similar attire.
The guys I was trying to sheepishly weave around were bigger, bulkier. Much gruffer looking. Stubbled faces, snarling, they had bodies boasting levels of muscle that ranged from huge tohuger. Most of their bulging biceps and pecs were wrapped within the confines of tight T-shirts, which were mostly grey or white, sporting wolf’s head logos. Jeans and heavy boots or sneakers completed their attire. I got close enough to one of them just to make out what was written under the wolf logo.
Central NN Lupines
As I suspected, they were wolf shifters, apparently from the same pack. A light sheen of sweat broke out under my hairline. Wolf shifters were as dangerous as vamps, maybe more, especially when defending their territory.
I knew I had to get far from this trouble, but my feet seemed to steer me otherwise. I found myself slowing. Morbid curiosity making me stop and listen to what was going on.
I made out a few veiled threats, a lot of growls. The real action seemed to be taking place between the two leaders.
And damn. I never thought that the two hottest men I’d ever seen would be standing right next to each other, glaring intently.
The shifter leader had a torso and arms practically carved from granite. His white T-shirt hiding nothing. His biceps looked thicker than my thighs. But with his wavy hair and amber eyes, reflecting lightness and sincerity rather than real evil intent, he looked more charming boy next door than paranormal thug.
His vamp opponent was so flawless looking, it made me do a double take. Seriously, how could anyone’s face look so smooth? High cheekbones and alabaster skin. Sapphire eyes ringed with crimson and raven hair shining, his body was much less bulky than his counterpart, but nearly as tall and defined in muscle, the muscles were just more compact under his black shirt.
The noise from the shifter side had grown from a low grumble to a raucous mishmash of insults and threats. I couldn’t hear what—
The shifter leader raised a closed fist up in the air. He held it there, and the wolf shifters fell silent.
Then he spoke, his voice husky, the volume raised high, as he glared into the vamp’s bright blue eyes. “You sack of shit.”
Smiling smugly, his tone sarcastic but gentle, the vamp replied loudly, “Always the wordsmith, Pup.”
The vamps broke into laughter.
