Cursed to the Bone

12. Under the Fang

The last thing I expected when I finally let Naomi drag me into Clerical class was Killian Rhodes. He was a vampire, not that you'd ever know it. His swanky looks and animated gestures had the full attention of the class. He was nothing like Lucien Lacroix. His hair was silver, which was apparently normal for turned vampires, and he wore mundane apparel that fit tight around his sculpted body. Every time I looked at him, I couldn't help thinking he belonged in a magazine instead of a classroom.

Naomi was there with me, leaning on the desk and eyeing our professor like he was a tasty dish as he went on about the duality of the Clerical studies. It was a typical lecture on the hand-in-hand nature of Life and Undeath magic. Boring.

As much as I enjoyed looking at Killian, and as much as I should want to be there, I didn't want to be there. I was a hands-on sort of witch. I liked to learn through trial and error. I liked to do things. This, though? It was a lecture. The whole class. I wanted to learn to heal and never have to come back, but it seemed healing was more complicated than I expected.

"Miss Tate." Killian's voice directed my attention to the front. He gave a helpless smile. "Please stay a moment. The rest of you are free to go."

Uh-oh. The curious gazes of my peers brought a bubble of irritation to the surface. Sighing through my nose, I glanced to Naomi to find her wiggling her eyebrows. I slapped a hand over my face as chairs scraped the tiles and hushed conversations fled into the hall.

"I'll meet you at the dorm." Naomi giggled as she rose. "I need to go drop off some books."

I couldn't bring myself to answer.

At the sound of the last student exiting, I met the burning, red stare of my professor.

"You're all anyone can talk about these days." Killian pulled up a chair, flashed a brilliant smile, and sat on it backward with his arms wrapping the top. He dropped his chin to an arm and his gaze fell to my neck.

That was discomforting. I didn't like it one bit. Why did he have to look there? Was it a coincidence? I resisted the urge to rub my scar, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of unnerving me.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I don't mean to make you uncomfortable." Killian dropped his gaze almost sheepishly, and twisted a hand to scratch a triangle tattoo on his cheek. "I've noticed your attention in my class is lacking. I understand, you know, that the beginning is dry, but you more than anyone should be spending a good deal of time here."

"Because of my curse?" I spat out, the words moving faster than logic could catch. I bit down on my lip and stared at the desk. A rush of cool regret made my chest tighten. Leave it to me to snap at a genuinely concerned professor. Nice going. "Sorry."

"Don't worry, Vera." Killian laughed. It was a light-hearted and easy laughter, and it brushed my tension aside with ease. "May I call you that? I know what it's like, you know. I was turned against my will. A long time ago. It feels like a curse sometimes."

I never thought to equate being turned into a vampire to being cursed. From the outside looking in, it didn't look bad at all. "Are you related to Professor Lacroix, at all?"

For a second, Killian's eyes flashed. He tightened his jaw and exhaled through his nose before speaking, "No. He and I are a part of different families. We never got along to begin with, though. I was born on the outside. Discovered magic and wanted to know all I could. Him?" He flicked a strand of hair from his eyes. "He was handed the world on a platter. I fell in with another group, and one night I woke up under the fang."

"Under the fang?"

"Slang for being turned."

"Ah."

"I only tell you because I realize how hard it is." Killian slid a hand free and laid it atop mine.

I stared at his hand, hard, my stomach twisting like a knife had been violently inserted. Not to be presumptuous, but it felt an awful lot like he was flirting with me. My heart slammed against my chest. The situation was uncomfortable, but I rationalized that he must not realize it. Fine. But even as I flexed my hand, trying to hint at him, he didn't let go. Instead, his fingers swept over my skin in what I'm sure he thought was a comforting gesture.

"I'd like to make you my apprentice. Teach you everything there is to know about life and undeath. I'd run it by the headmaster, of course. Wouldn't you feel safer not having to rely on others for healing?"

Goddess, didn't he see how awkward that was?

A knock sounded from the door. It was Christine Waters, her tall figure filling the frame. Her frosty stare settled on Killian as she crossed her arms over her shift dress. "Miss Tate. You're late. Come along."

"Ma'am?" I asked.

"Now."

Quick to oblige, I slid my hand free and grabbed my book. Stepping into the hall, I inched behind her to shield myself from Killian's weirdness.

"Think it over!" Killian yelled after me. "I'd love to take you on as an apprentice, one cursed individual to another."

Christine walked on my right, her gaze settled on me. "I'm glad I was passing by, honey. You looked out of your element."

I nodded. Yes. I was definitely that.

"I dislike grabby men, myself. The next time one touches you," Christine said, stopping me with a hand on my shoulder. Electricity tickled my skin through my coat as static bounced harmlessly between her fingers. "Give him a shock."

"I don't know how—"

"I'll put it on the agenda for next week. See you in class, Miss Tate."

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