The Unearthly (The Unearthly Series) Read online

  My roommate gave Oliver a dark look. “Fine,” she huffed, “you tell her.”

  Oliver took both my hands in his and looked me in the eye. “Honey, we are all supernaturals.”

  Chapter 3

  “WHAT?” I COULD feel my eyebrows knitting together even as I smiled. I looked back and forth between Oliver and Leanne, waiting for them to tell me they were kidding. They looked serious. “What do you mean you’re supernaturals? Tell me you guys are joking.”

  After a moment of tense silence, Leanne spoke quietly. “Of course we’re serious Gabrielle. You don’t get accepted into Peel unless you’re a supernatural.”

  I raised my eyebrows, catching on to what she was implying. “So I’m a supernatural?” I couldn’t believe I was actually entertaining the thought. “I mean, what even is a supernatural?”

  “You’ll find out what you are soon,” she said hesitantly. “Your powers will surface at the Awakening.”

  “That’s what the Awakening is?”

  “Yes, and that’s why only juniors and seniors attend Peel,” Leanne said. “We’ve all reached puberty, and we’re considered adults within the supernatural community; we’re biologically and socially ready for our powers to be Awakened.”

  Her brow furrowed. “It’s strange that you wouldn’t know this. Everyone who attends Peel has usually known about his or her true nature since childhood.”

  “I was adopted at the age of five. Any ties I had to my biological parents were severed then.” I didn’t know why I said it. I wasn’t entertaining these thoughts. Except that I couldn’t help but consider it. Maybe that’s why I saw the man in the suit. Maybe I was different.

  Leanne and Oliver exchanged a troubled glance. I looked between them. The first seedling of belief sprouted. This wasn’t the way two people would act if a joke went on for too long. In fact, it might explain why everyone knew more than I did. Or maybe I’d accidently joined a cult, and I was as crazy as everyone else.

  “But how would the school know I was a legacy?” I asked. “I’m an orphan. Even I haven’t been able to track any relatives, living or dead, and I’ve had over ten years to search.”

  “I don’t know,” Leanne said. “Someone must have informed them of your existence. But who?”

  ***

  I slept restlessly that night. The wind whistled outside my window, only adding to my nightmares. The man in the suit was at the back of my dreams, calculating. At some point the dreams dissipated, and I took comfort in the dreamless sleep.

  I woke up to midday sunlight streaming through my window and a rapping on my door. For one blissful moment I lazily stretched my limbs, happy. Then I remembered the events of last night.

  I briefly wondered whether I could actually be a supernatural. Impossible—but perhaps true. The thought, however, was soon eclipsed by another that had nagged me.

  It was Leanne’s final question that I couldn’t get out of my mind. Did someone from my past know of my existence? Why hadn’t they contacted me? Who were my parents, and where did I come from? These were all questions orphans asked themselves, but now answering them seemed vitally important. My future appeared to rely on it. I promised myself that as soon as I was settled in, I was going to do some sleuthing.

  I heard the door open and a sassy voice chastise me. “Girl, get up! I know you are jet-lagged, but geez, it’s almost 3:00 p.m. Even I don’t sleep that late.”

  I sat up and rubbed my eyes. “Why can’t you be like every other guy—hopelessly banned from the girl’s dormitory?” I asked.

  “Because I’m amazing.” I felt Oliver remove my blanket and the pillow covering my face. “Now get your ass out of bed and get changed.”

  I groaned. “Why do you care?”

  “I care because I don’t want you to look like a homeless person tonight on your date.”

  “I’m not going.” I threw my pillow at him.

  He caught it and threw it back at me. “And I’m not leaving until you agree to come with me—unless you’d truly prefer to stick around and hang out with all the other supernaturals.”

  He had a point. “Okay, okay. Just give me five minutes to change.”

  I noticed Leanne was nowhere in sight; she had probably scrammed as soon as she could.

  Oliver perched himself on my desk, arms folded.

  “Let me clarify,” I said. “Give me five minutes to get changed privately.”

  Letting out a melodramatic sigh, Oliver left the room.

  I quickly threw on some clothes, brushed my teeth, and checked my reflection in the mirror. The blue-eyed, black-haired creature staring back at me looked wild and lovely. Sometimes I didn’t recognize myself in her.

  My gaze didn’t linger long. I slipped on some sandals and headed out with Oliver to my version of hell—shopping.

  ***

  Four hours later Oliver came back with a pair of shoes and three shirts, and I came back with nothing but a full wallet.

  Oliver threw his bags down and stomped over to Leanne’s bed. For hours he had tried to get me to buy this or that revealing top, but he’d met his match. I was more stubborn than a mule, and proud of it.

  Leanne came out from our room. “Hey,” she said to me. She looked over at Oliver. “What’s with you?”

  He pointed a finger at me. “That one killed my shopping buzz.”

  I shrugged. “I’m broke. Plus, what’s wrong with my clothes?”

  Oliver raised his eyebrows. “Girl, are you for real? You need a new wardrobe like a werewolf needs a wax.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You’ve only known me two days, how could you possibly—”

  Oliver pointed to my open closet and shuddered at the clothes sticking out. “The horror, the horror.”

  “Oh, get over it.” I moved towards the door. “I’m going to pick up my schedule and some books.”

  “Oh, so now you want to spend money?”

  “Library books. I’m going to pick up library books.”

  Leanne looked at me like I was crazy. “Aren’t you supposed to be going on a hot date soon?” It was a quarter till seven.

  “Yeah, that’s not happening.”

  ***

  I crossed the sprawling lawn that separated the dorms from Peel Castle with my student ID in hand, armed to pick up my class schedule and corresponding books.

  I still couldn’t decide whether everyone was seriously delusional, or if I had accidently entered into a cult. Either way, I was screwed.

  The castle loomed in front of me. In the distance I could hear the crashing surf that surrounded the little outcropping Peel Castle was built upon.

  According to the school map I’d been given, there were two libraries, but I was to pick up my books in the main one, which sat just to the left of the castle in an adjoining building. I opened the sturdy oak doors and walked inside.

  Oil lamps burned soft and low. Couches and armchairs were placed between shelves of books, and a few sleepy-looking students lounged on these. Globes and busts of famous ancient thinkers sat on side tables, making the space feel less like a school library and more like an esteemed center for learning.

  I breathed in the smell of musty books. It was one of my favorite smells in whole world.

  This is surreal. I now lived on the British Isles, attended an elite boarding school, and had finally made friends. So what if those friends claimed we were all supernaturals? All other aspects of my life appeared to be equally surreal right now.

  I walked up to the main desk and collected my class schedule and another sheet of paper. On it was a list of books. “Can I pick these up right now?” I asked.

  “Sorry hun,” the librarian said. “Today seniors are picking up their books, so if you want your books now, you’re going to have to hunt through the shelves to find them.”

  “Sure—thanks. That shouldn’t be too difficult.”

  The librarian raised an eyebrow and gave me a Mona Lisa smile. That couldn’t be good.

  Walking away
, I skimmed the book list. The first title caught my eye: Introduction to Monsters.

  Wait. What?

  ***

  At precisely seven o’clock, a sleek black Mercedes pulled in front of the women’s dormitory. Clad in a suit and holding a single red rose, Andre stepped out of the car. His curling brown hair brushed his collar, and he moved a loose strand off his forehead.

  It had been a surprisingly long time since he was last here, but nothing had changed. A young woman sat behind the front desk in the lobby, reading a magazine. She looked up in time to see him heading for the stairs.

  “Uh, sir, excuse me, you need to sign in before I can let you upstairs. …” Her voice died when she saw who it was.

  “Of course.” Andre walked to the desk and signed the blue sheet of paper.

  He smiled charmingly. “A ‘Gabrielle’ lives here, and I am supposed to meet her tonight. Would you know what room she lives in?”

  “Sure,” she said nonchalantly, but her hands were shaking. She was probably breaking the rules by giving him this information—by letting him in at all—but she wouldn’t stand up to him, almost no one in the world would.

  The woman scrambled through some loose papers on her desk. “Gabrielle Fiori? She lives in room 305.”

  He felt his composure slip a little. “Did you say Gabrielle Fiori?”

  Santiago’s daughter.

  But that couldn’t be. She died in a fire long ago. How was she still alive?

  “Yes. Is something the matter?”

  He composed himself. “Not at all. Have a lovely evening.” He gave her a wink, and went to the stairs. She giggled nervously behind him.

  Gabrielle Fiori … interesting.

  ***

  Andre knocked on the door of room 305.

  “Geez Gabrielle,” the girl said as she opened the door, “you don’t need to—”

  The door opened, and a girl stared at Andre with a mortified expression. Gabrielle was definitely not in the room.

  He hid his displeasure with a smile. “You must be Gabrielle’s roommate.” He held out his hand. “Andre.”

  She eyed his hand like one might a poisonous snake. Slowly he let it fall.

  “Do you know where Gabrielle is?”

  He could see the girl’s breath quicken. She was nervous. Good. “Sh—she’s at the library picking up her books.”

  The library. He strode down the hall, leaving her stuttering for words.

  A minute later the dorm’s front doors burst open, and Andre stormed out. As Andre left the building, he threw the rose into the trash.

  His driver got out of the car. “Sir?”

  “Take me to the campus library.”

  ***

  Peel’s library was close to the dorms, and the car ride was short. Yet it was still plenty of time for Andre to seethe. When was the last time he was stood up? He couldn’t even remember.

  The Mercedes came to a halt, and for a second time that evening Andre stepped out. Now, however, all traces of his suave manner were gone. He was pissed.

  He walked up to the library’s thick oak doors and kicked them open. They slammed against the wall, the wood splintering apart.

  Startled students screamed at the noise. More joined in once they saw who was standing at the library’s threshold. Andre scanned the crowd, looking for one person.

  Gabrielle.

  His eyes found her as she walked away from the counter, forcing books into an already overstuffed bag. Belatedly she noticed the silence. She looked around until she caught sight of Andre.

  “Shit,” he heard her swear under her breath.

  Chapter 4

  WHY HAD HE come looking for me? Couldn’t he take a hint?

  Andre angrily stalked forward until he was more than comfortably close. In a deceptively calm voice, he asked, “Did you forget we had a date tonight?”

  Silence. Everyone was in the library was listening.

  I lifted my chin. “A ‘date’ would suggest mutual interest. What you did was blackmail.”

  For a moment, nothing happened. Andre just stood there frozen, as though he had not registered my words. Then, before I could react, he picked me up and threw me over his shoulder.

  “What the—? Put me down, now!” Instead of putting me down, Andre began walking to the door, like any normal caveman. Students who had gawked at the scene now parted to make room for him. No one was going to do anything. In fact, they all looked a little frightened.

  “Help! Please, someone! Andre, put me down!” I began to bang on his back with my fists and my book bag. I tried to wiggle off of him, but he had a viselike grip on me.

  Now I began to scream. “Help!”

  Andre pushed open the doors, and the night’s chill rushed over my skin. He didn’t stop walking until he came to a black Mercedes.

  A man came out of the driver’s seat. “Sir?” He sounded concerned.

  “Everything’s fine. Could you grab the door? Oh, and turn on the child lock.”

  The man hurried to open the rear car door. I huffed. Andre was kidnapping me, and his driver opened the door for him?

  Andre unceremoniously dumped me into the car and followed me in.

  I scrambled for the far door. Grabbing the handle, I pulled. Nothing. I tried again.

  “Damnit!” Fruitlessly I pulled on the handle a few more times, but nothing. I wanted to cry.

  The driver got in, and the car pulled away from the curb.

  “Sir, are we still going to the marina?”

  There was a long pause, long enough to make me look over at Andre. He was assessing me with his eyes. “Yes, I think that would be best.” I attempted to put as much distance as I could between him and myself, leaving me squished into the corner of the car.

  I sputtered, “You’re still taking me on the date? Are you kidding me? You can’t just snatch me up and—”

  Midsentence Andre turned his attention to my books, which had miraculously made it into the car with me. In particular, he focused on a textbook that had slid partially out of the bag.

  “Living and Dying in a World of Wonder: An Introduction to Supernatural Beings,” he read out loud. I let out an indignant huff and crossed my arms. “They’re still making students read this?” He pulled the book out of my bag and began flipping through it. “You know, this book is nearly as old as me,” Andre said.

  I eyed the book, a cloth-bound, gold-leafed book that looked like it came straight out of Old Man Time’s library, and then looked at Andre, who appeared to be in his mid to late twenties.

  “That book is nearly as old as you? That’s a joke, right?”

  My words irked Andre; his eyes narrowed. “It’s a manner of speaking.”

  “How old are you?” I asked. It was a rude question, but I had a right to know how old this guy was if I was being forced on a “date” with him.

  “A little over seven hundred.”

  Now I was thoroughly confused. “Seven hundred … years old? Wait. What? You’re actually serious?” All that is holy, please tell me I was not trapped in a car with a crazy person.

  Andre’s mouth quirked as his irritation turned into wry humor. “You haven’t heard? I’m a vampire.”

  ***

  “The man who wrote this textbook was a classicist. He ranked beings on a spectrum from good to evil.”

  I was still reeling. A vampire? Either Andre was crazy, or he was telling the truth and he ate his dates. There was no good way to look at it.

  “Hmmm …” He was preoccupied flipping through the pages. “‘Vampires: nocturnal, blood-drinking beings who, in exchange for their mortal life and immortal souls, are granted theoretically eternal lives, as they can only die from suicide or murder. Vampires are unequivocally the most evil creatures who once began life human.’ Well I’d say that’s a bit harsh.”

  “I think it’s appropriate considering you’ve kidnapped me and will probably eat me and throw my remains into the water.”

  “I do not ‘ea
t’ people,” Andre said. “And if I wanted you dead, I have far more practical ways of accomplishing that.”

  Great. He just admitted he offed people.

  He began paging through my textbook once more. “Oh, here’s your entry. ‘Sirens: grumpy birdlike creatures who badger men to their deaths with their incessant squawking.’”

  “Give me back my book!” I tried to make a grab for it, but he moved it out of my reach.

  “Ah,” he said, focusing his sharp eyes on me, all playfulness gone, “so you were fine ignoring our date, but now you’re not fine when your wishes are ignored?”

  “I never agreed to the date. And how would you know whether I’m a siren?”

  He gave me a once over. “I guessed. Sirens always were so annoying.”

  I was a siren? Something else about his sentence caught my attention. “Sirens were annoying? Why the past tense?”

  There was a moment of silence before he spoke. “They tend to live very short lives.”

  I swallowed. That was a bad omen, especially now that I was trapped in a car with a vampire.

  “And of course you agreed to the date,” Andre added.

  “I did not! And while we’re on the subject, why don’t you apologize for carrying me against my will to your car—and for blackmailing me.”

  “I will do no such thing. I would do it again if circumstances were similar.”

  I wanted to scream. This man was unbelievably frustrating.

  “Look,” I said, exasperated, “I’m assuming people kiss your ass for a living. And I’m assuming you come from a time when it might’ve been perfectly okay to throw an uncooperative woman over your shoulder. But, if you want to have any chance with me, then you have to give me some reason to respect you.”

  I wasn’t planning on any future dates with Andre, but I could scrape up my pride with an apology.

  Andre looked like he bit into something sour.

  “Sorry,” he said flatly. It wasn’t an apology. Not even close.

  I felt the car slow down before coming to a complete stop.

  The driver opened my door—which I noticed was unlocked from the outside—and let me out.

  I shivered as I stepped into the cold night air. The chilly wind brought goosebumps to my skin. I looked around. We were amongst rows and rows of docked boats.