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Chapter 32

Hunger Pains

Solomon Academy 1: Della

DELLA

I stir from sleep, aware of hushed voices around me, but my eyelids feel too heavy to lift. I’m certain I’m no longer in the asylum. The air is different here. It’s warmer, fresher.

“Della, sweetheart? Are you awake?” That’s Kade’s voice. Why does he sound so worried? I need to reassure him.

“I’m awake,” I manage to whisper, but it’s barely audible.

“Does anyone know when she last fed?” a different voice inquires. It’s familiar, but I can’t place it.

When was the last time I fed? I remember the mean girls during power training, but that was hardly a meal. And then there was Oz’s boyfriend, but that doesn’t even count as a snack. It’s been about a week since those two jerks in the asylum. Has it really been that long? That’s not good. I should know better! Get it together, Della! You have people who care about you; you can’t afford to neglect feeding.

I force my eyes open. Professor Coach is here, along with the guys. I’m back at the academy. Thank God it’s just Gavin’s office.

“Hey, sweetheart. Welcome back. You gave us quite a scare,” Kade says, brushing my hair away from my face.

“Hey, sorry. I… I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I should know better than to skip feeding,” I mumble, trying to sit up. Zeve is here too.

“You’ve had a lot on your plate, Della. But we need to make sure you’re feeding regularly,” Micha says, his hand warm on my face.

“Della, how are you feeling, darling?” Zeve asks.

“Uh…a bit fuzzy. Weak. But I guess that’s to be expected.” I shrug.

“Right. We need to get you something to eat. Where do you usually go?” Gavin asks, looking a bit pale.

“I usually hit up a bar,” I say, suppressing a chuckle. “Sometimes I stroll past a high school.”

Sorin snorts at my joke.

“Okay. Well, do you feel up to going out?” Micha asks.

“I don’t really have a choice, do I?” I smirk, slowly getting out of bed. My knees are shaky, but I manage to stand. Victory!

“All right, let’s get you dressed, and we’ll take you out dancing,” Sorin says, smirking and winking at me. He wraps his arm around my waist, steadying me. Oz comes to my other side to help me walk without knocking anyone over.

“That sounds like fun,” I say, smiling as I head to the mirror. “Thanks for your help, Professor Coach!” I call over my shoulder, causing everyone to laugh.

“You need to feed every day—especially if you’re using your magic often,” he lectures as Gavin glares at him. I give a sloppy salute as I cross through the mirror with Sorin and Oz.

Soon, the others join us, including Professor Coach and my mom. It seems like everyone is coming along.

I put on the spare dress that I promised Micha and Sorin I would wear for them. I know they said it was just for them, but my other dress is…well…dirty after last night’s fun.

“Holy shit, babe. I don’t think you’ll make it out of here in that,” Kade growls, coming up behind me.

“It’s the only thing I have. My other dress is covered in cum,” I confess, giggling.

“Oh…well…you realize this one will be next, right?” he teases, but he’s probably right.

“Yeah, but hopefully it will last the night.” I giggle as I slip on my heels and then head to the lobby where everyone’s gathered.

“So, you guys might not like my feeding habits,” I warn my consorts.

“Why?” Gavin asks, his brow furrowing.

“Because I’m going to have to get pretty close to some very unsavory people,” I explain.

“How unsavory?” Kade asks.

“How close?” Micha asks, probably because he knows what I feed off of.

“I have to make physical contact—and pretty unsavory. I feed off the black wisps and sludge. And the sludge is the result of things done to intentionally cause harm,” I explain.

“You’re right. I don’t like this at all,” Gavin confirms, making my heart ache a bit. It’s not like it’s my fault. It’s what I am.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble.

“Expand on your thoughts, Tenn. Remember?” Sorin reprimands. I love my crazy Sorin; he really does see everything.

“Shit, sorry. I meant I don’t like that that’s how you have to feed. I want you to be safe. This doesn’t feel safe,” he explains.

“I get that. To be honest, it hasn’t always been safe. That’s why I learned to fight and why I have the knives.” I shrug. “Besides, this is probably the safest I’ve ever been. I’m usually by myself.”

“Not anymore,” Gavin states with finality.

“Deal. Shall we?” I ask, gesturing to the door.

***

I manage to feed off a few people on the way to the club just by accidentally bumping into them. I already feel stronger and less disoriented.

“You’re really good at this,” Zeve comments.

“Thank you, I’ve been feeding since I was ten, and feeding this way since I was fifteen,” I say with a shrug, but I can’t help the surge of pride that my mom, my real mom, thinks I’m doing something good.

I have to admit, I’ve been wanting to keep my distance from my birth parents. After years of Kerri-Anne and John, I didn’t want more parental interaction. It’s probably not the normal reaction, but it is what it is. Zeve, however, seems to be a good person. She has dropped everything to help me—more than once. That is so much more than the Hearses ever did. Maybe having a mom wouldn’t be the worst thing ever. But starting slowly because, let’s face it, the Hearses did a number on me.

We head to the front door of the club, and Zeve takes the lead. She leans in and whispers to the doorman, whose aura changes from protective blue to a vivid lust-filled pink. He lets us all in as Oz and I try to stifle our snickers as we pass.

We make our way to the bar, but Oz intercepts me and drags me onto the dance floor. We sway and move to the pumping music, and I purposely bump into a few people and feed a bit more.

I feel hands on my hips and turn, expecting to see one of my guys, but instead I see a tall, handsome man with golden skin and a shining white smile. He looks like he just walked right out of the Golden Gates—a golden Adonis. But looks can be deceiving because his aura is roiling back tar—thick and festering. He smells delicious.

It’s like I’m not fully in control of my body. It’s primal. I’m starving, and he’s my own personal feast. I bite my lip as I stare up at him. This has never happened before. He’s going to be so good. I take his hand and lead him off the dance floor to the back of the club. I see Sorin and Micha following us discreetly as we make our way to the back alley. I should probably pay more attention to them, but I have eyes only for my meal.

Once we’re out of sight, I watch as my dinner subtly looks for security cameras before prowling toward me.

“Hey, wanna have some fun?” he asks with a flirty grin.

“What kind of fun?” I tease.

“I’m going to make you scream for me,” he taunts. Then I see it. The lust and rage pulsing beneath his tar-like aura, and I see an unreleased pocketknife… He wants to kill me.

Well, fuck.

Coming back into myself a bit and praying I don’t die first, I step closer to him and wrap my arms around his neck. I know it’s either him or me, but I still hate it. I bring my lips to his and feel my center flare to life.

I moan as I feed—good lord, he’s like a gourmet feast. I can taste every awful thing he’s ever done. I feel his body thin out under my hold, but I keep going, making sure he is no longer a problem—for anyone. I feel a sharp pain in my side, but it’s gone before I can register anything else.

I feel a pulse in my center. That’s new. All of a sudden, my hands are empty. I open my eyes, not fully prepared to see the husk I usually leave behind, but there’s nothing. No body. His clothes and his knife are laying in a dusty pile, but he’s nowhere in sight.

What the hell?

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