The Coven (Coven of Bones, #1)(8)

My amulet warmed against my chest as he looked down at me, holding my stare as he attempted to force his compulsion on me. I pretended I couldn’t feel it, pretended that the crystal didn’t confirm everything I’d already suspected about his unnatural beauty.

Vessel.

He studied me intently, his steel-blue eyes flashing. This close, I found myself mesmerized by the ring of gold surrounding the pupil of his eye, a spark of warmth in the otherwise cold of his stare.

“Of course,” he murmured, spreading his lips into a carefully controlled smile. He’d had centuries to practice, to avoid showing the fangs that would send a panic through even the most foolish of humans.

“Hollow’s Grove University would like to welcome you to attend in two days’ time.” He glanced over my shoulder at the house. My mom would have never allowed it to fall into disrepair, caring for it even if it was no Buckingham Palace, but the disdain with which he studied the aging siding made my neck prickle with rage. “It’s the sort of opportunity that a girl like you would be foolish to reject so carelessly.”

I shifted, turning my gaze down as I smiled in disbelief. “A girl like me? What does that mean, exactly?”

“An orphan,” he said, not missing a beat as the word rolled off his tongue. There was no sympathy or pity for my recent loss, only a matter-of-fact statement that made angry tears threaten my eyes.

“Don’t you need to be a child to be considered an orphan?” I asked, sinking my teeth into my cheek. I leaned forward, putting myself in his space. His nostrils flared as I got closer, the scent of my blood undoubtedly filling his lungs. “If I’m a child, then what does that make you with your lingering gaze?”

“You’re not a child,” he said, his jaw tensing as I held his gaze in challenge. “I shouldn’t have used that term. I only meant that you are suddenly on your own in this world. Having a place to start over may be to your advantage—”

“I’m going to make this very simple so that we do not waste any more of one another’s time,” I said, cutting him off. “I’m not interested in attending any university that sends a seedy, sketchy man to the doorstep of my home. Any reputable university would allow me to apply myself. If you’d like to leave me an application and save a stamp, my mailbox is right over there.” I pointed behind him to the end of the driveway in the distance—to the little red mailbox that sat there.

“There are no applications for Hollow’s Grove University. It’s invitation only,” the man said, taking a step back. He held out his hand for me to shake, staring at me intently as he willed me to take it. I raised my chin, ignoring it pointedly while he continued. “I should have introduced myself. I’m the headmaster of Hollow’s Grove, Alaric Thorne. This is your formal invitation—”

“Then leave my invitation in my mailbox,” I corrected.

“I am the invitation,” he said, clenching his back teeth as he glared down at me.

He pulled his hand back, sliding it into the pocket of his trousers. The three-piece suit he wore was far too distracting for my tastes, a complete and utter distraction. I had a feeling that was the point, as if his very being was sin wrapped up in the finest suit.

I reached behind me, grasping the doorknob so that I could pull the door open just enough to wedge my body into it. He couldn’t enter without an invitation, and I’d be damned to the nine circles of Hell before I ever gave him one.

I smiled as I maneuvered myself into the house, peering out at him as he watched me like a wolf. “Then I am definitely not interested.”





4





GRAY





I moved quickly, surging through the distance between us and wedging my shoe in the crack in the door before the witch could pull it closed. The door hit the side of my foot, springing back to open slightly as her fingers scrambled to keep hold of the knob. Her eyes widened slightly at the speed, blinking as I appeared in front of her suddenly.

Reaching up, I rested my forearm against the siding next to the door and leaned into her face as my upper lip pulled back, revealing the faintest hint of fang. Her heartbeat increased, pulsing faster in spite of whatever training she’d had to try to disguise her nerves.

“Why don’t you come outside and lie to me again, love?” I asked, smiling down at her as those odd, mismatched eyes blinked up at me. They were fanned by natural, long black lashes. The circles beneath them reflected just how tired she must have been, and I had a moment where I wondered if it was her norm or because of her recent loss.

“I’m surprised you can fit on that porch with the size of your ego,” she said, smiling that fake, saccharine grin that made her appear older than I knew her to be. It was the look of a cynical woman who had lived long enough to experience the ugliness the world had to offer.

It made her seem ageless.

Movement behind her distracted me from the way her lips curved around her next word, preparing to deliver me with some doubtlessly clever, enjoyable line that would both infuriate and entertain me. It had been so long since someone readily offered me a challenge. Her refusal reminded me of the thrill that had once been in the chase of predator and prey.

A boy of maybe six stood in the hallway behind her, glaring at me as he clutched a fire poker in his hand. He hefted it awkwardly, showing that he knew nothing of what to do with it.