Out of the Shadows (The Runsfield Academy Series) Read online

  I know its sappy, possibly at the expense of my man-card, but I guess a part of me has always hoped to find my true mate and form a bond; to see that skull tattoo on my girl and know that she is MINE undisputedly sets off fire in the pit of my stomach. Unlike shifters, who know their true mates purely based off smell, necromancers have to date their partner and build a relationship before the sign of the bond appears. The odds of me finding my true mate when I’m not allowed to leave these grounds or our home is next to impossible, so I’ve all but given up on the idea. Again, I glance up to find her looking at me, and I tilt my head to the side as I observe her. I wonder what she’s thinking about? I’m not quite sure why I care; I’ve certainly never given a shit before. There is something odd about this girl and I’m going to find out what exactly that is.

  Chapter 3

  Kat

  My gods is he pretty…

  He’s the first fellow necromancer I’ve seen besides Kilas. He’s tall, easily six and a half feet, all lean muscle to fill out that custom suit perfectly. I watch as he flicks his tongue back and forth across his lip ring and am momentarily distracted by the thought of how that sexy pink tongue would feel between my thighs.

  “Hmm…” I blink, hoping to reset my thoughts. Fuck! Was that out loud? I clear my throat, like I didn’t just almost moan in class. Good gods, as if being the new, ‘underprivileged’ girl isn’t bad enough—now everyone in class is going to think I have a weird supe history fetish. I mentally face palm myself; sweet cheese, Kat, get it together.

  I wonder if I can find a non-suspicious way to get closer to him, and not just because he’s utterly delicious, but also because growing up on the streets doesn’t exactly lend well to learning about your skills as a mancer, especially when you have to hide it out of fear of being hunted.

  As a necromancer-vampire hybrid, I’m a bit of a freak, defying laws just by existing. The supernatural world doesn’t really have that many laws; we are governed by a committee made up of one family from each continent, and one of our main laws is you can have relations with other species but you are never allowed to form a mate-bond or reproduce outside of your species—according to the committee, it’s not even possible. But my mom, as a sweet butt for Kilas, the president of the necromancers’ MC, is going against the very laws we live by, by having his baby, and clearly what we thought possible—or impossible—was untrue. After Blood Bound, the all-vampire MC, killed them all and took my mom from Kilas, she became Maven’s old lady, and raised me until I was 14, right around the time when I started to develop breasts and curves, and she saw me as a threat instead of a daughter.

  Wow, I zoned out for a bit. I tune back in to professor Sterling in the middle of his explanation of the syllabus and what we can expect from his class. He breaks down how he’s going to grade us and lays out his expectations. This is going to be more work than I’m used to, having only attended public schools briefly before community college, but hey—it’s a free education and a place to eat and sleep, so there’s no way in hell I’m ruining it.

  After the professor dismisses the class, I slowly pack my backpack while keeping an eye on Mr. Sexy. I want to approach him, and I contemplate an excuse, any excuse, but I can’t think of a damn thing. I just know that me being, well, me, I’ll just end up making things weird. I have to figure out an excuse to be around him.

  I check my schedule and see I have a 45-minute break before my next class, so I think I'll head over to the Westwood dorm and unpack my measly three boxes that I shipped ahead of time along with my bike—literally everything I own.

  I am the last to exit the class, and find myself heading down the grand staircase and out the massive doors to where I parked my bike. I glance at the map to figure out which direction I’m heading—west. Wow. I roll my eyes at myself and ride over to the dorms.

  I park my bike and head up to a set of the same beautiful, ornate, heavy castle doors, and then up the stairs to the third floor. I find my dorm relatively quickly, and as I go to slip my key into the lock, the door flies open to reveal an adorable pixie of a girl standing much shorter than me, by at least six inches. She smiles up at me with perfect teeth, beautiful mocha brown skin, and green dreadlocks tucked into a huge bun on the top of her head. Her eyes are an amber color, like leaves in the fall, that almost seem to twinkle. I smile back

  “Hey there, you must be my roommate. My name’s Katerina, but you can just call me Kat.” I put out my hand for a shake.

  She accepts it. “Hey, my name’s Acacia.”

  I’m not entirely sure what species she is, but she is giving off some super chill vibes. My sensitive nose picks up the sudden scent of Ylang Ylang, and I’m pretty sure it's coming from her. My body releases some tension I didn’t realize I was holding. I allow myself to hope a little that we can be friends. I am fully aware I’m a bit on the awkward side—not intentionally, but being alone all your life will do that to a person.

  She steps to the side to let me in, allowing me to see the room for the first time. My eyes are drawn to the high ceilings with crown molding and more small iron candle chandeliers. To my left is a dark cherrywood fireplace with built in bookcases set in an alcove beneath a beautiful archway. The vintage furnishings complete the castle aesthetic. The floor-to-ceiling church-style windows bring rays of natural light into the otherwise dark room, and there’s an alcove in an archway ahead of me with a bench seat below. There is a small kitchenette to the right of the door with dark, almost black, wood cabinets and marble countertops, and a small two-person island separating the kitchen and living area. I see two doors on the righthand wall, which I’m assuming lead to our bedrooms.

  This is by far the nicest place I’ve ever been in, let alone slept in.

  Only then do I notice my sad little boxes on the floor near the couch. Acacia notices me looking at the boxes and says, “I wasn’t sure which room you wanted so I waited for you and I thought we could choose together.” Oh, my gods, this girl is going to give me a toothache with how sweet is she.

  I give her a genuine smile and say, “Oh, I really don’t care either way, as long as there is a bed.” She gives me a funny look and I realize that, to someone who’s had money or, hell, even normalcy their whole life, that’s a very weird thing to say. I look around the room like I didn’t just overshare. I suppose I should give it time—we really aren’t quite to the share-your-whole-fucked-up-life-story stage yet.

  I head toward the rooms and open one of the doors, where I find a huge king-sized iron-poster bed in the center of the far wall, between two vintage nightstands, with another dark wood fireplace on the left-side wall. Because the castle is so old, I’m thinking the fireplaces are actually used for heating. This one even has a comfy-looking club chair in front of it. I notice a desk to the right wall next to a huge lavish window with those same heavy blood-red drapes. And my very own dresser next to the door.

  My eyes must roll into the back of my head, they open so wide. Acacia laughs and it sounds like tinkering bells. When she finally stops, she says, “Didn’t have much money growing up, did you?” She says it in a kind, nonjudgmental way, and I find myself relaxing a little more in her presence, knowing I won’t always have to keep my guard up.

  “No, not really,” I say, fighting a smile at that understatement. “Are you from the US too?” I ask, a not-so-subtle way to change the subject.

  As if sensing my discomfort, she accepts the subject change. “Yeah, I’m from Maine, me and my family lived in a tree house in the forest so we can always be connected to nature. My family owns a botanical shop in town there.” She smiles, picturing it in her mind.

  Ah, so she’s an earth elemental—that makes a lot of sense now.

  She continues. “My dad is an earth elemental and my mother is a water elemental so it really is an ideal job for us. Plus, the fact that we add a little magic to all our plants to help keep them from dying as fast helps a lot, too.” She smiles again.

  I walk over to the other roo
m and open the door. Inside, it’s the same room as the first one, but in reverse. “I guess I’ll take the one on the right,” I tell my new roommate.

  “Sure, sounds good,” she responds, “to be honest I wanted the left one anyway. There is a beautiful old fir tree near the window.” We both have a chuckle.

  After moving all three of my boxes to my room, I wonder about her belongings.

  “Hey, did you need any help with bringing up your stuff?”

  She simply smiles again, and I realize I’m beginning to see a pattern here. I haven’t really been around many elementals, so it’s possible I said the wrong thing and she’s left wondering what she did to get herself stuck with the brainless roommate? It’s then I notice the huge tree outside her bedroom window is holding about six boxes on each of a handful of branches. She walks over and opens the window and starts grabbing boxes.

  “Wow, that’s handy.” I walk over to help.

  She laughs and nods her head. “What's the good of having magic if you can’t use it to do the mundane?”

  I nod my head with a frown. I’m honestly a little envious that I don’t already have magic powers.

  After we get all her boxes out of the tree, I leave her be to put her stuff away—the last thing she needs is someone creeping over her shoulder as she finds a spot for her undies. As I leave her room, I spy a shadowy figure out of the corner of my eye, but when I look over it’s gone. That’s weird, I think, but I quickly shrug it off and head back to my room.

  It doesn’t take me long to fold my clothes and put them in the dresser, and find a spot under the bed for my only other pair of shoes, my beloved Converse. But I am puzzled when I notice another door in the room which leads to an en suite bathroom. “Yes!” I all but yell when I see I won’t have to share a bathroom with anyone. A simple luxury I’ve never had. I haven’t had an actual shower since mom kicked me out, and very few know just how hard it is to wash your hair in a public restroom.

  I shudder at the memory, and decide to busy myself with unpacking instead. I place my toothbrush by the sink and put my shampoo, conditioner, and favorite lavender and chamomile body wash in the shower caddy. I check myself over in the mirror; my long braided hair is windblown from riding my bike, my smoky eyes are slightly smudged from the wind causing my eyes to water. I use my finger to clean it up and head back out to check for any food in the kitchen.

  As I snoop, I find a mini fridge that has a few bags of O-negative blood, since I didn’t list any preferences on my registration forms. I snag one and gulp it down in a very un-lady-like way, not realizing just how hungry I was till now.

  A quick glance at the clock tells me it’s time to start heading to my next class—Human Behavior. I grab my bag, calling out to Acacia that I’m heading to class and that I’ll be back later. I make my way back downstairs and decide to forego my bike and just run back to the Northwood building.

  Once I get there, I head for the third floor and down the right hallway, keeping my eyes on the door numbers, looking for 317. I find the class and head to the back of the room again. This room looks similar to Supe History, but instead of bookcases behind the teachers' desk, there are all sorts of charts and a white board. Scrawled on the board in a swirly font is the professor’s name: Cynthia Collins. I glance around and see all sorts of different species taking up the desks. It's going to be difficult getting used to being around people without having to constantly look over my shoulder; although, as it is, people make eye contact with me then quickly look away like I’m carrying some type of supe plague.

  One girl, I think her name is Lily, seems to notice my utter confusion and has mercy on me; she approaches me to say, “Don’t take it personally, Cain has just spread the word that no one is to have anything to do with you. No one's willing to go against him and risk his wrath.”

  Ah, so that’s how he’s going to play this. I roll my eyes and think, how completely unoriginal and predictable. “So then why are you telling me this?” I ask.

  She smirks “Because I couldn’t give two flying fucks about Cain.”

  I return her smirk. This is my kind of girl.

  “But that certainly doesn’t make us friends,” she quickly retorts, eyeing my smirk, and I let my happy expression slide off my face.

  Well alrighty then. “Whatever,” I shrug, feigning nonchalance. I definitely can’t let her see that I got my hopes up, even for a second. She quickly leaves to find a seat as far away from me as possible. It seems maybe she does care about The Wrath of Cain. Wait, isn’t that a movie or something? Again, whatever.

  The professor walks in and immediately starts class, providing similar information as Professor Sterling. I zone out, as I tend to do. My mind drifts back to the dean’s son. I have to find out what his actual name is; I can’t keep referring to him as Mr. Sexy or Dean’s son. I really don’t want to have to wait till next Monday, but without anyone talking to me, how am I going to figure it out? Maybe my new roomie will know. Maybe it's time for some quality girl talk after class. Let’s hope I know how to do that. Professor Collins assigns a project that will count as half of our total grade. We have to go into Cluj and observe different humans in their ‘natural habitat’, interact with them without feeding off them, and then write a report about what we observed and learned during the interaction. That’s doable, I suppose. Plus, I could use the trip to get away from campus whenever being around all these people gets to be too much. Oh, and I should probably get a job too.

  Once she’s done explaining the assignment, she dismisses us.

  Girl time, here I come.

  Chapter 4

  Kat

  On my run back to the dorm, I make a mental list of questions I want to ask Acacia. I get my key out of my backpack and unlock the door. On my way in I say, “Hey Acacia I’m home,” and chuckle at my own joke.

  She pops her head out from her room and smiles. “Hey girl.”

  “Are you all done unpacking?” I ask her.

  “Yeah, just finishing up some final touches; you know, making it homier.”

  I glance behind her and see plants covering every surface in her room, including trumpet vines growing over the bed posts and dangling from the ceiling above the bed. I stare, mouth slightly agape.

  “Holy crap! You did all this?” It’s absolutely beautiful and reminds me of what I imagine living in a forest would feel like.

  “Of course, being around plants is good for the soul,” she replies with a happy sign.

  “Hey, can I get you to do the pretty vines around my bed, too?” I’ve never had anything so pretty before.

  She excitedly claps her hands together and bounces on her toes. “Of course!” She grins before heading off to my room, and within three minutes there are beautiful flowering vines climbing up the posts and down the top connecting rails. I stare at the flowers with what must be a look of confusion because she explains: “They are moonflowers. They are unique in that they only bloom at night, I’m not sure why but they seemed fitting for you.”

  If only she knew just how fitting it was for my mancer side. “Thank you so much, they’re beautiful!” I smile uneasily. “Do you want to sit and talk?” I look at her like a deer in headlights. “I’m not really sure how to do this whole friendship thing. Sorry,” I explain.

  Sensing my nervous discomfort, she plows though the tension growing like a fart in the air around us “Of course, let's sit in the living room. Are you hungry?”

  I smile at her in appreciation. “Nah, I ate before I left for class, thanks though.”

  “No problem. So, is this your first time in Europe?”

  “Yeah, I didn't really travel much, unless you consider the one time my mom took me to Wisconsin for their October wine festival when I was twelve. She got drunk and forgot me there overnight.” Ah nothing like childhood memories to remind you how fucked up you are. That night, so long ago, I slept on a park bench until the next afternoon when she finally remembered she had a daughter and had one of th
e Blood Bound members retrieve me.

  Acacia looks at me with sympathy rather than pity, which I appreciate. There is something about this girl that has me lowering my walls, and I’m not entirely comfortable with that. These walls have kept me safe for so long; they’ve protected me when I had moments of softening for my mother, when I was all alone and cold in back alleyways, when sleazy men tried to manipulate me into whoring myself out to make a buck. I have to hold on to them, I’ve known this girl for all of five seconds.

  After mentally berating myself, I pick up the pieces of my walls and slather them in mortar and start to build those fuckers back up. She seems to sense this and allows me my time. Quickly changing the topic, I say, “So I have the dean’s son as a TA in my Supe History class—know anything about him?”

  Her eyes go big for a second at the incredibly random question. She shakes it off and says, “Well I don’t know a ton but I know his name is Kiazer, this is his final semester and I guess he’s going to be doing an apprenticeship under his dad in order to take his place as dean and be a member of the committee.”

  Kiazer… I roll that name around in my head for a few seconds. Even his name is sexy. Too bad he’s probably an entitled asshole who thinks he the king of the school because his dad is the dean. Plus, if they’re anything like Cain’s family—the only other family on the committee I know personally—I want absolutely nothing to do with him. I’m not entirely sure why that makes my stomach clench anxiously.

  “Have you been going here since freshman year?” I ask her to continue our girl talk. “Well, I’m only a sophomore, so this is my second year,” she responds with a small smile touching her lips.