Stone's Thirst

Chapter 8: Enthralled

I froze. It was only a few feet away—if I ran and it lunged, I was done. Were there wolves out here? I felt like an i***t for not knowing. I opened my mouth, and I didn't know if I was going to shout 'who's there' or just scream bloody murder.

But before I could decide, the shape sprang. A trim, muscular blond man appeared from the darkness. It was Watson! I let out a shuddering breath and stepped back, my back meeting a tree trunk.

In the dislodged undergrowth behind him, I saw the English Classics major, her yellow hair disheveled and her party dress hitched high up her thighs. She smiled dazedly at me, covering something on her chest with a trembling hand. Blood dribbled down between her breasts. That's when I noticed the smear of bright blood at the corner of Watson's handsome lips.

“Were you…?" I couldn't finish the question. I couldn't decide which sounded worse: feeding or f*cking.

“Chill, Amber, it's fine." Watson sounded unconcerned. “She knows all about it, don't worry. After all, she turned me. She knows I'm still young. I still need to feed feral once in a while."

“Watson," said the girl on the ground, pulling down her skirt. “Let's find someplace more private?"

“As you wish," grinned Watson. I couldn't look at him; the fact that Melinda knew about this and was okay with it—or was he lying? She'd been so firm on the distinction between humans and vampires. How could she sanction this?

“Goodnight, Amber," Watson's voice glimmered sweetly behind me as I began to stumble away, uphill toward my dorm.

We aren't safe. That's what Professor Stone had said. Even Watson, her closest companion…

I was a fool, I decided. I was lovesick and surrounded by vampires. And I had let myself get distracted by how beautiful and influential they were, rather than how quickly they could stop my heart.

I arrived at Professor Stone's final class of the semester the next day—the very last day of term—with my stomach in knots. I hadn't had the heart to tell Janis about Watson and the Classics major, keeping my story contained to just Logan and his incredible offer. Now, sitting in the back row of the small lecture hall, I waved down at Melinda Stone halfheartedly. She raised a graceful eyebrow at me but did not climb the rows to ask me why I was being so standoffish. I stared at my lap. I had to face the fact that I really had been trying to think the best of Professor Stone. I wanted her to be my mentor, my supporter. And…I couldn't deny that cold, elegant intellect, the focus and speed of her mind, held a new and wonderful allure too. But it had been childish of me to think that she was always going to tell me the truth about herself and her companion. Who did I think I was?

The lecture was a beautiful summation of the semester's syllabus. Again, a speech I had heard before. But the class sat with rapt attention—and so did I—as Professor Stone spoke smoothly of the paramount importance of all kinds of beauty in life—beauty of experience, of feeling, of depth. She closed by reciting a portion of Keats' poem, “To Autumn":

While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,

And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;

Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn

Among the river sallows, borne aloft

Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies…

I looked up at that. Usually, she closed the lecture with Wordsworth, or at least that's who she had focused on when I'd taken this class before. Had she known that 'To Autumn' was a favorite of mine? She must if she'd read my recent papers…

I pushed away that thought and stood, shuffling the attendance sheets together neatly. I was only a little surprised this time when a male voice cleared its throat in front of me.

There was Jake Hamilton again, looking sicklier even than he had last night. Had they left the department party and fed on him again? How much could a body give?

“Hey," he said, flashing a grin I'm sure had ensnared a hundred unwitting college girls before me. “I'm just checking in if you're still down for that party? Or if you just want to drop by the frat house some time, that'd be wicked chill. There's always something happening."

He said it like a promise. My skin crawled.

“I already told you I wasn't interested in your party," I said, a bit more stiffly than I maybe needed to.

“But…" he seemed genuinely shocked to hear a flat no. “But…"

“I'll take it from here, Jake," smiled a second voice I knew all-too-well by this point. Logan Talbot was suddenly standing behind Jake, his hand on the human boy's shoulder. What the hell? How did he do that?

Jake's eyes glazed for just a moment, then he turned and trotted down the lecture room risers and out the door. Then Logan's blue eyes turned on me, burning with curiosity.

“Is there a reason you're turning down my generous invitation?" he asked, stepping closer to me. So close I could feel the prickling chill off his skin. “Generous is the word I believe you used last night."

“I wasn't talking about the party," I protested helplessly. “I meant…"

“I know what you think you meant," hissed Logan, leaning closer still. His eyes were shining inches from mine. “But the offer of your academic future on a silver platter and the invitation to our house are one in the same. Come on, kitten. Isn't that what you want?"

My brain felt fuzzy. Yes, of course it was what I wanted. And my body, traitorously, was using its own imagination, reading deep into those bright blue eyes…The rumors of what happened in that house…I felt my breath quicken. What was I so afraid of? I had everything to gain by just saying yes, yes, yes…

“Mr. Talbot." Professor Stone's voice was glacial-cold, and I flinched. Some sort of spell seemed to break. Suddenly I felt myself shivering under a cold sweat, and my body wasn't daydreaming of pleasure anymore. It felt more like it had just received a strong electric shock. “I won't have thrall magics in my classroom."

Thrall magics? Did that mean…Had he been brainwashing me? To want him?

“Oh, my dear professor," said Logan breezily, turning to face her. Her lovely face looked like an oncoming storm. “You know I have no need to resort to such crass measures."

“And yet," the professor shot back. “I know what I saw, Mr. Talbot. Go, before I'm tempted to make an official report."

“A report?" Logan sneered, and his lovely face contorted into a venomous disdain. “You think you can actually touch me with your bureaucratic nonsense, woman?"

“I wouldn't touch you with a ten-foot pole," countered Stone icily. “Now get out of my classroom."

Logan gave a scornful laugh. He looked back to me. “Consider my offer, Amber. Don't limit yourself." He looked meaningfully at Stone, then swept past her out of the lecture hall.

“Are you alright?" asked the professor at once. “You're shivering."

“I'm fine," I said automatically. “Here are the attendance sheets…"

“To hell with the attendance sheets. Miss Brooks, if he ever approaches you that way again, please tell me at once. I didn't think highly of him to begin with, but to use thrall magic on a human, in broad daylight…It is the kind of magic that few vampires touch, though we can all do it past a certain age. It quells resistance in the…victim. It is an antiquated hunting tool, and one that I never expected to see used in this way, this brazenly."

The fury on her face was fierce and sharp. I felt myself blushing, knowing it was on my behalf.

“I will, professor," I promised. “I…thank you."

I didn't want to think of what would have happened if she hadn't broken the spell. If I'd stayed locked in those infinite blue eyes, if I'd decided to go to the frat house tonight…

“Why do they want me?" I heard myself ask. “They've never even talked to me before…"

“I have a suspicion," said Stone, turning away from me at last. “But I hope that I am wrong."