Page 10

Viggo headed into the largest building on the northern side of the campus that housed the impressive library and individual research rooms. He pushed through the doors and then headed to the all-students library that was four stories of master masonry work, impressive woodwork, wrought iron, and glass, with various seating and study areas.

Once Viggo confirmed that we were alone, he headed to a private seating area and set me down on my feet then stepped back.

I started tugging on my skirt, trying to pull it down and put myself in some type of order since I looked like a hot mess.

Viggo looked me over, blinking rapidly as if to clear his vision before his face softened. "I apologize. That was not my intention and I should have asked before touching you," he said, looking to see if we were followed. "Are you well?" he asked, unhooking his cape from his right shoulder.

"Yes, aside from the dislocated shoulder and domestic violence-styled bruising," I grumbled.

Viggo looked at me and blushed with a small smile. "Again, my apologies. Did that vile creature truly try to use thrall on you?" he asked, wrapping his oversized cape around me for some reason then pulled it together under my chin.

It hung on me like an oversized tent, and it smelled heavily of him.

Looking up at Viggo, the height difference between us felt like so much more at that moment.

I had to get away from him.

I turned and stepped away from him then slumped down in one of the oversized club chairs, pulling his cape tight around me. "Yes, he did. How did you know that?"

"I heard you," Viggo said, taking the seat across from me. "Either he is exceptionally bad at it or you are exceptionally hard-headed and it did not even register with you."

"Hardheaded of course, but I felt a clouding of questioning, like why he was asking me something like that or showing apparent concern, but there was no waiver to my free will," I admitted.

"The waiver created by successfully executed thrall all races and classes would feel," Viggo admitted.

That, I didn't know.

"I knew something was wrong the moment that mosquito asked if I was going to combat training because he doesn't give a damn about being able to protect himself if needed. He's too pretty to get hurt, in his opinion, and too important since his bloodline is two hundred and eighty-something in line for a throne. He's a useless part of society. The only way he can get laid, I'm assuming, is to use thrall." I rested my head on the back of the chair and closed my eyes. "His grandfather, though, is honorable and would be disappointed in his heir: Archduke Striker Hedge."

"An Honorable Vampyre the Archduke is," Viggo agreed.

"You're missing art."

"I am, but Arthur Hedge had a point even though his intentions were not honorable; you should take a nap or turn in early. The dark circles under your eyes rival those of a vampyre that even rudimentary healing could not assist with."

"One Vampire, ha, ha, ha. Two Vampire, ha, ha, ha," I said, sounding like Count von Count from Sesame Street. "If needed, I can always use your makeup kit I know you're hiding in your cape to hide my undesirable dark circles," I informed him.

Viggo sighed, exasperated.

I chuckled; I didn't bother looking at him or arguing the point because he was right.

The dark circles under my eyes were a slight purple-gray color; lack of sleep always kicks my ass, but when you add the butt-kicking I got this morning it made them look a million times worse.

"Why is everyone suddenly concerned with my well-being?" I asked.

"Human nature," Viggo said.

"We are not human," I reminded him.

"Why are you so tired?" he pressed.

"Why do you care?" I retorted.

"Vampyre nature," he offered since I didn't believe his human nature reason.

I opened my eyes and looked at him; his expression was soft again, eyes studying me, he was leaning forward some, resting his elbows on his knees.

Viggo looked genuinely curious and without an objective, and it was hard to deny him when he looked at me like that, so I closed my eyes.

"Sizing me up so you can eat me?" I teased.

"Only if you asked me to."

"Ew," I said, and he chuckled. "I haven't been sleeping much," I admitted.

"Partying?"

I chuckled. "No. I don't partake in partying despite what the rumors say and my awesome people skills might suggest. I have a short temper, if you haven't noticed, and drunk people, especially drunk young adults, annoy the living hell out of me. It isn't that they go after me," I tried to explain. "It's my boys and Jolyn they go after. Slevin because he's fabulously gay, Harper because he's super shy and scared of women, at least that's what Slevin said it is, and Jolyn is a Jesus take-the-wheel type... That's a song I was told from the human world, and it seems to apply just from face value. Either way, it makes them targets and I won't permit that."

Viggo leaned back in his chair, a small smile on his face. "The rumors surrounding you are rather colorful and yet they are complete works of fiction based purely on jealousy and unfounded hatred," he said.

I nodded my agreement. "That's accurate," I agreed. "And you were giving me grief about my short wizard asking questions about you. Hypocrite."

"Okay, that is fair. You make it easy for them though," he said.

I shrugged. "Children will do what they will do, and there's nothing I can do to stop or change that," I explained. "A higher learning environment, like this one, especially with young adults that are powerful and deadly if they choose to be, is a powder keg fueled by the rumors and drama revolving around the most sought-after and most attention-worthy people. I, regrettably, am both. If I fight the rumors, it only gives confirmation of them. And if I ignore them, it sparks even more, but none are ever confirmed so it keeps the rumor mill constantly turning out new ones while the old ones fall to the wayside."

He made a soft noise under his breath over my tone.

"Do I have an attitude? Yes. Have I had detention more than any other student in the two-hundred-and-ten-year history of this particular academy? Yes. Which mind you, I take great pride in," I smugly informed him.

Viggo offered a smile, one where I could see his perfectly straight teeth. "I would be suspicious if you did not. Do the rumors and how the others look at you, how they speak about you behind your back, not bother you?" he pressed, his small falling.

"I wouldn't possess an overabundance of simplistic human-minded nature if it didn't at times," I admitted. "I try to look at it as a hypocritical trial by fire. If I can survive the soap opera antics and drama of school then I can handle everything and anything the real world can throw at me, and that includes the politics of the world of thaumaturgy."

Never had I told anyone that. Not even my father or brother! But a stranger I just opened up to and shared stuff with.

It was weird and not right, but at the same time, for some reason, it felt as if it was exactly what I was supposed to be doing and he was the one I was supposed to be doing it with.

I reveled in the silence that accompanied my answer, which he shouldn't have accepted.

There was comfort in the silence between us.

There was an overwhelming sense of familiarity that surfaced when I was in Viggo's presence, but I didn't know why.

I knew Viggo was sitting there with me still for some reason, even though my eyes were closed I knew he was there, but he wasn't talking or trying to engage me anymore; his steady heartbeat was trying to lull me to sleep, his unique clean, ambrosial-floral scent filled the air around us, and the heat from his body I felt caressing against mine even through his heavy wool cape.

It isn't entirely repulsive, and when Viggo isn't being a smug jerk or kicking my ass in class, he is rather pleasant to be around.

And that is the problem.