Dead King's Sword (Old Draft)

14. Unwanted Jealousy

Erin

***

Dawson Carr was a most fascinating specimen. A few girls from my class and I observed him as he sat by a coffee table in the library. We collected samples of his hair and nails for further research. The more we clustered about him, the redder he became. Perhaps, he was ill. Young warlocks lingered behind us, curious about the nonmagi that had stumbled into our ranks but staying distant to appear cool and uncaring.

A girl who wore her blonde hair in a messy bun asked, "What do nonmagis do at school?"

When Dawson spoke, we learned he had a deep, slightly seductive voice. "Well, we learn Math, Science, Art, English, any number of things really."

A girl with a short afro asked, "And you only have three meals a day?"

He nodded. "Most of us do, but it varies, to be honest."

"How curious." The girl jotted down her findings in a notebook. To replenish the mana we used, sorcerers ate roughly five times a day. I looked at the glass test tube in my palm; a few crescents of black hair rested against one side. I tucked the glass into my pocket to use during future experiments once my magic returned.

Someone else asked, "And males of your species can't be impregnated?" It was strange that only female nonmagis could bear children. For most magical creatures, any gender could conceive if magic was injected into them. Vampires and dragons were the only exceptions, as only the females of their race could reproduce. But, even so, most cultures preferred for women to bear children.

Dawson Carr nodded.

"How curious." More jotting down of notes. Dawson's redness spread from his cheeks to his ears, and his glasses fogged.

"Is he going to explode?" one of the warlocks asked.

"I think so," another joked. The boys laughed and started throwing rolled pieces of paper at Dawson. The nonmagi winced as one bounced off his forehead.

Sam, the blonde girl who had begun the questioning, turned to the boys. "Will you stop?" Her nostrils flared and narrowed in tiny slits.

The guys shrugged. There were five of them and seven girls, including me. At having their studies interrupted, the girls were unhappy. If Zeren was here, she would have infuriated the warlocks with pointed jabs, but she was off trying to get the princess's attention. Why did she suddenly care about the princess anyways? Hadn't she always focused on me before? Now, it was almost like she was shifting away. Discovering other interests. Something bitter filled my stomach and caused my abdomen to clench. I ignored it. Even if Zeren liked Princess Anne, the royal would never be dumb enough to return her feelings.

I stood next to Sam. Other girls rose and stood behind us. Red-faced Dawson, unsure of how to react, kept his place in his chair behind our defensive wall.

One of the boys had slathered his brown hair with so much gel that it was plastered to his skull. His dark eyes watched us. "I don't see why we have to share our women with the nonmagi. He should fuck off."

"Your women?" Sam asked incredulously. "When have we ever been yours?" There were murmurs of agreement around her.

The boys stiffened and said, "Just leave the dude alone and stop paying so much attention to him is all we're saying."

"Why don't you leave?" Sam asked. She was a friend of Princess Anne, a rare core seven, same as me. As she raised her hand, the boys seemed to acknowledge the difference between their abilities. The young warlocks placed their hands in their pockets, mumbled their discontent, and walked away without fighting. When they were gone, Sam turned to me and offered her hand. "Samantha."

"Erin." I shook her hand briefly.

She smiled. "I heard your magic was locked away. How were you planning to fight them?"

"I honestly hadn't thought that far ahead."

She laughed. "That's fair, I suppose. Should we go back to...." We turned around and found Dawson's chair empty. The brat had run off while the boys had distracted us. Sam shook her head. "And I was planning to check his blood next."

Janine, the girl with the short black afro, said, "I wanted to see if his toes would grow back if we cut them off. Shame...." She crossed her arms over her breasts. Most sorcerers had the ability to regenerate if their core was size 3 or greater, but the pace was slower for weaker sorcerers. We released a collective sigh. Our experimentation had been cut short. Sam asked me, "Since that's over with, would you like to have dinner with us?"

"Sure."

***

She was falling in love with someone else. I saw it in her smile whenever she woke up or went to sleep. I also saw it in the stupid grin she wore while brushing her teeth in the communal bathroom. And I saw it in the loving way she made a bed for the caterpillar she had found before feeding it a leaf. And towards Princess Anne, I felt nothing but spite.

Before, it had always been Zeren and me. But now the princess had appeared, and everything had changed. I stared at Zeren as she tucked the caterpillar into a bed made from a small round wicker basket and covered it with a square she had cut out from her sheet.

'Look at me.'

Zeren climbed into bed, put on her stupid blue hat with the floppy ears, and turned her back to me.

'Look at me.'

Zeren murmured in her sleep but didn't wake. Hot anger worked its way through my veins, and I felt the beginnings of thirst as a tightening in my throat. It wasn't unusual for vampires to crave the blood of someone they hated or loved. And it wasn't the first time Zeren had triggered my curse. Since I was only half-vampire, my thirst wasn't as intense. I wouldn't go mad and become a slave to it; I wouldn't drain my target of its blood. No, I would stop once I got my fill. I wondered what her blood tasted like, felt my fangs grow and press my bottom lip. Sighing, I turned away. Being placed in a room with Zeren was torture. A strange, inhumane punishment. I wished it would end.

***