Cal
Three years ago...
"Yo, Cal, looks like another Quem'Cha just walked in," Tucker says with a scowl.
"Female," Tanner adds, eyebrows high. "And not bad look--"
My glare ends his words, but I do finally turn to see the female they're looking at.
I shouldn't have looked.
The moment I do, it feels like my father punched me square in the gut—which he'd gladly do if he knew I was reacting this way to a Quem'Cha—a half-breed, a 'broken blood'. A Vampire.
"You gonna quit drooling anytime soon?" Tucker drawls.
I slam my mouth shut and pull my eyes from the female long enough to punch him in the balls.
Tanner and the other guys in my group dissolve into annoyingly loud, squealing laughs.
The sound draws the Quem'Cha's attention, and as our eyes meet, hers widen, and a shy smile shifts her lips from something severe to something almost... beautiful. As we continue staring at each other, my eyes slowly work their way down her curvy body.
Damn. She's stacked.
When I pull my gaze away from her assets, I see that she's traded her smile for a glare, and I feel a spark of hurt pride. Why wouldn't she take my attention as a compliment?
"Oh, Cal's gonna put her in her place!" Tanner laughs, falling into step behind me. I'm barely aware of the others that follow. My attention is on the new girl.
I watch her as I rise and see the sudden grim set of her mouth. When I head her direction, her jaw clenches. To her credit, she holds my challenging gaze the whole time.
Stupid bitch.
Instead of stopping, I keep walking, plowing into her body with my shoulder as I head towards the exit. "Out of the way, Quem'Cha."
I see shadows dance in the corner of my vision, but it's the hand that grips my wrist that causes me to pause.
My heart races at the contact, not because of her beauty but because the last Quem'Cha that touched me—I lock those thoughts away and pull my anger, my hate, around me like a shield.
Quem'Cha can't be trusted. I have to remember that.
"Let go of me," I grit, turning.
"Gladly," she agrees, dropping my hand like it's a piece of animal dung.
"You need to learn some manners, Quem'Cha."
"Oh, really? And I suppose the pervert that leers at a girl and then tries to 'accidentally' cop is the one to teach said manners?"
My mouth drops open, stunned. Quem'Cha are never this forward. With far less aggression I've had Quem'Cha on their knees cowering before me. The others know their place. The others fear us Weildon like they should.
This one, though, she's not afraid of me. She stands straight, her eyes narrowed with annoyance and bright with intelligence. She challenges me, and Wayden destroy me, I'm not sure what to do about it.
She's strong, I realize, and part of me is terrified at how much that affects me—and in ways it absolutely should not. Noticing a nice pair of tits is one thing, but to actually admire and respect a Quem'Cha? My father might actually kill me.
"What?" she taunts, "Has nobody ever called you out on your deviant behavior, pervert?"
My cheeks gain color as I growl, "I'm not a pervert—and even if I was, do you really think I'd look at an ugly ass dark whore like you?"
She flinches, the only sign I've dealt her any real damage, but the expression is soon replaced by anger, "First of all, 'dark whore' isn't my name. Malikah is. Second," she sniffs the air and sneers, "is the shapeshifting virgin really going to try to slut-shame me?"
Exclamations sound around us, and I realize we've drawn an audience. I have to do something to save face, and I have to do it fast.
"If the condom fits," I say icily. Then, "Oh, wait, you're sterile so it doesn't matter how many males use you, right? You'll never have a husband, never have a family. You'll never fit in with us, and in the end, you will die alone."
I wake up an hour later in the Healer's office, a stupid grin on my swollen face.
Already I can't wait to see her again. That Quem'Cha has just made school much more interesting, and my mind whirs as I try to think of ways to make her life hell.
As I step into the hallway, ready to head to class, I see a senior Weildon boy shoved against a set of lockers, blood oozing from his face.
Malikah turns at the sound of my footsteps, her eyes swirling black.
My feet stall as I take in the scene, and Wayden destroy me, I think I get a little hard.
Sound from the other end of the hallway draws both of our gazes, and I nearly snort with laughter when I see Principal Wesleyan hobbling down the hallway.
"MALIKAH GRAU! YOU LET THAT BOY GO!"
"He started it," she mutters, still holding him against the lockers.
"I don't care who started it!"
"I'm just defending myself."
"Other Vampires figure out how to coexist, and I expect you to as well. You're not allowed to attack other students."
"And if I do?"
"I'll have no choice but to suspend you."
The boy in her grip begins to laugh, revealing blood-coated teeth, "You heard that, didn't you, you little bitch? You can't—"
Malikah looks our principal square in the face as she raises her fist and slams it into the boy's mouth.
My mouth drops at the audacity, but I can't help feeling just a little bit proud of her.
Principal Wesleyan, however, turns a nasty shade of indigo, and I swear the whole school hears his cry of rage.
Malikah drops the boy and walks out of the school without another word.
It's the first time Malikah is suspended from school for fighting, but it won't be the last.
***
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A Spell of Hate
Romance*Complete but still subject to edits until it goes to Kindle Unlimited* Malikah and Cal have been at each other's throats since the day they met. He hates her because she's a Vampire; she hates him because he's a dick. Time and experience change a...
