Vamp, Wolf, or Shifter?

This is a Joke, Right?

As promised, Aidan sends some sort of house servant to my room about an hour later to invite me to dinner. I know I should go—it’s a little early in this new “adoption” for me to start rebelling against my new “father”—but I don’t.

Well, can you blame me? How creepy is this whole situation? I was already creeped out enough that Aidan is so young and attractive. But now, to hear it from his own son’s lips that he called me the “prettiest girl he’d ever seen?" What am I supposed to do with that information?

And what the hell did Cooper mean by more than just helping out a girl in need? If Aidan doesn’t want to jump my bones—which I can only pray he doesn’t—then what does he want? What does my appearance have to do with anything?

For the record, I am not the prettiest girl in the world. I’ve got violet-colored eyes, which, I guess, is somewhat rare. But my dark brown hair is the same as a thousand other girls’, and I’m of average height and weight. Nothing special.

Over the years, a few boys seemed to see whatever Aidan and Cooper apparently see in me. It never went well for me, though. I was always the outcast as school—the poor, penniless “mountain girl” whose parents had to drive an hour just to get her to school every day. My best friend Finn was the only boy who was ever actually nice to me, and neither of us ever tried getting into the other’s pants. The few boys who did try to get into my pants usually grew bored of me when I said no, then resorted to calling me names and spreading disparaging rumors about me behind my back.

Boys suck.

To my relief, no one comes to bother me when I don’t show up for dinner. In fact, no one comes to bother me for several more hours until, finally, a gentle knock sounds at my door.

“Come in,” I say wearily from my spot on the bed where I’m absently stroking Balto’s fur.

Cooper pokes his head in, then wrinkles his nose the same way his father did when he sees Balto. “You let him on the bed with you?”

I roll my eyes. “Can I help you, Cooper?”

A small grin plays at the corner of his lips. “You should call me Coop. Everyone does.”

“Okay, Coop. Can I help you?”

“Yeah. I wanted to let you know that I carpool to school every day with a few buddies. Limo pulls up at eight o’clock sharp. You should ride with us.”

“Limo?” I repeat. “To school?”

He looks amused. “Is that really such a surprise to you? You’ve seen the house, haven’t you?”

House? Not exactly the most accurate word for the mega-mansion I’m currently sitting in. But I digress. “Right. Sure—I’ll be there. Thanks.”

School, I think with a heavy heart as Cooper bids me goodnight and leaves my room. 

Time for things to get even worse.

- - - - -

“Hold on. This is a joke, right?”

I’m FaceTiming with Finn. It’s the first time I’ve called him since leaving home; I didn’t have the heart to talk to him last night for fear I’d break down in tears. This morning, though, when I stepped into my walk-in closet for the first time and spotted the most insane array of flashy, promiscuous, designer clothes that I’ve ever seen, I just had to call.

“I wish it was,” I tell him, flipping the camera and showing him the closet for a second time. “There isn’t one, single t-shirt in here. Or one pair of jeans that isn’t ninety percent shredded. Where are you, anyway?” I don’t recognize the plain, white walls behind Finn. His quirky, offbeat parents litter their walls with eccentric paintings and statues of animals and mythical creatures—pretty hard to forget.

I miss them. And him.

“School—got here early. Back to the point. Cooper said what to you last night?”

I told him everything. I didn’t plan on it—Finn can get a bit protective, and he doesn’t trust the whole, bizarre adoption situation any more than I do—but I also have a hard time keeping anything from him. “I already told you. Don’t make me say it again.”

He sighs. “This s**t is beyond weird, Quinn. Maybe you should just make a break for it. Want me to come rescue you?”

I laugh, despite how tempting that sounds. “I should probably give it a few more days first. Just tell me which ridiculous clothing item to wear.”

He groans, but finally concedes, pointing out a royal blue, V-neck blouse and a pair of stretchy, black pants that probably qualify more as “leggings” than “pants.”

“Call me as soon as you get home from school,” he says as I turn the camera off to start changing. “Sooner, if you need to. First sign of trouble. Okay?”

“Okay,” I promise him, and I hang up the phone.

But the first sign of trouble has long since passed.

- - - - -

As promised, the limousine is waiting for me when I emerge from the front doors of the mansion twenty minutes later. And leaning casually against it, dripping with s*x appeal and a smile that kills, is Cooper Roswell.

“Morning,” he says easily to me as he reaches for the door to the limo and opens it for me. “You look great.”

I give him a forced, mechanical smile as I step into the limo, which instantly fades when I see the two people sitting inside it.

He did mention having friends. I just forgot about them.

They’re nearly as unnervingly attractive as Cooper himself is. Both of them have the same smooth, almost translucent skin as him, and equally light eyes, though the girl’s are a light gray and the boy’s are a light green.

“Hi,” the girl says cheerfully to me from her spot in the boy’s lap as I slide into the seat across from her. “You must be Quinn.”

I glance carefully up at Cooper as he slides in next to me and closes the door behind him. “Don’t worry—they only bite each other,” he jokes. “Quinn, meet Max and Julia. Max and Julia, meet Quinn.”

The girl—Julia, apparently—tucks a strand of strawberry-blond hair behind her ear and beams at me. “You’re so pretty,” she says, reaching out to touch my cheek. “Such tan skin. We don’t see that much up here. Except, well…”

She doesn’t finish that thought, which is fine.  I’m focusing less on her words than on the fact that she just touched my face. What is wrong with this girl? 

And why was her skin so… cold?

“Pewter High is a pretty annoying place,” Max warns me as the limo pulls out onto the main road. “Lots of cliques, cliques within cliques… You know how it goes. But stick with us, and you’ll be fine.”

Julia nods in agreement. “With Cooper as your friend, it’s hard to go ignored.”

I smile weakly back at them, resisting the urge to tell them how I really feel about that.

Going ignored would have been ideal.