She only knew two vampires. Well, given the fact that they'd met all of three times, she couldn't really say she knew Levi, but no one else came to mind.
The vampire narrowed his eyes.
"I'll take that as a yes. Why is he making you watch me?"
"You'd have to ask him."
Chloe sighed. Asking him wasn't a good idea. Being anywhere near Levi wasn't a good idea. She could have a perfectly civilized conversation—if a little pushy and nosy, perhaps—with just about anyone else, but she lost her mind around him.
"Yeah, right. I'll do that, I guess."
With a sigh, she started to walk away before turning back.
"Wait."
He hadn't yet dissolved into the shadows.
"What now?"
"What's your name?" she asked him. "If you're going to stalk me, we might as well get properly acquainted first."
He smiled. "Mikar."
"Did you call me on my first day, Mikar? To wake me up."
He shrugged. "You had orientation at ten."
Chloe managed a real smile. He might be intimidating and rather cold—she wasn't even going to start on the whole 'I only care if you get murdered a certain way' thing—but she was fairly certain he was the kind of person she wanted in her corner. If a random attacker leaped at her, Mikar would have him flat on his back in an instant.
She fell asleep a lot faster that night knowing she had someone watching over her.
But that didn't mean she wasn't extremely curious, and slightly irritated, as to Levi’s reasons for hiring her a bodyguard to begin with. She knew she had to stay away. She didn't recognize herself around him. She didn't even recognize herself when she thought about him.
Who was she?
Quasi-reasonable
Time was flying at an alarming rate. One moment she was gaping at anything out of the ordinary, eyes widened all the way through Paranormal Intro and Immortal History, and then, somehow, she was used to it.
The elemental fights in the courtyard, the huntsmen kicking ass, the occasional shifter changing in the corridors, ravens coming to greet her between classes. Martie, the grumpy mailman. Fin, the strange Aos Si. The foxes, witches, wolves, and vampires—they were all part of her world now. She spent her Sunday mornings doing accounting for the huntsmen, studied every evening, and joined Jack’s races whenever he called for one.
By the beginning of March, just three months after she'd first entered Oldcrest, it was her normal.
The one thing she hadn't yet learned to accept was the weather. The snow had melted—when Gwen wasn't playing with it, in any case—and the sky had been sunny for days, but it was still so cold Chloe mostly wore her coat, thermals, and two pairs of socks.
This week, a cold wind from the west had picked up, making her grumble every time she had to go outside.
She was yet again cursing the damn weather on her way from the dorms to the Institute when Jack called her.
"Hey, Cheetah. Ready for a prison break?"
Chloe grinned. She was really starting to like hanging out with Jack. She'd grown to understand why the huntsmen followed him. It was more than respecting him due to his rank, or even his mother’s position; Jack had a way of making everything fun.
Case in point.
Chloe was comfortable in Oldcrest. She didn’t freak out when Charles emailed her to say he didn't have any news about her attackers and might have to give up unless there was another development. She didn't care; here in the Institute, behind magic walls and around a thousand kick-ass sups, including one who was dedicated to her safety, she wasn't worried about some puny humans.
When Jack had first mentioned heading to London for a weekend, she'd immediately dismissed the idea. London was the daunting human place where Rose’s Coven had been destroyed.
"I don't think I should go," she'd said.
The entire point of her being here was to avoid danger.
"Come on, Cheetah. It's gonna be a blast. Well, after we're done greeting Mom, in any case."
The huntsmen were heading south because the high guard would be in town.
Chloe had to admit, she was incredibly curious about the human woman who led a worldwide society of supernatural creature hunters, but she wasn't curious enough to leave Oldcrest. She loved the Institute so much she'd even toyed with the idea of asking Blair if she could try to become a teacher.
So she'd said no the first time, and Jack hadn't insisted.
He had, however, started to plan the trip, and everyone was talking about it. The boat ride along the Thames from London to Windsor, a castle tour, a quick trip to Brighton to surf and eat fish and chips on the beach.
Everyone was angling for an invitation; Chloe was one of the dozen people who had one, and she was wasting it because she was too much of a chicken to step out into the real world.
That was too sad for words.
After thinking things through, she called NOLA and mentioned her dilemma to Charles.
"Wait a minute. Some hunky huntsman, fully capable of taking out any human threat, offers to take you on a weekend trip to one of the hottest cities in the world, and you don't want to go?"
"I do," she corrected. "I'm just thinking that it might not be safe. And after all the effort you put in to get me here safely, it feels wrong to go out for fun."
"Honey, don't use me as an excuse to justify yourself. If you don't feel like pushing your boundaries? Don't. But if you're calling me to ask for permission, you got it."
She hadn't realized that was why she'd called. Because after he’d helped her get into the Institute for her safety, going on a pleasure trip Charles wouldn't have approved of seemed ungrateful. Disrespectful. But he didn’t mind, so the next day, she asked Jack if she could still tag along.
The much-anticipated outing Jack had spent most of February organizing was happening this weekend. True to her nature, Blair had sent everyone tagging along a recommended list of stuff to pack, like they were a bunch of third-graders. Jack had looked at his list like it was a pit of snakes trying to bite him.
"Three pairs of underwear?" he'd asked.
"We're going from Friday evening to Monday. It seems appropriate," the witch replied with a bubbly smile.
"I don't wear underwear," Jack stated in response, answering the question everyone was probably asking themselves.
He wasn't a boxers or a briefs guy, apparently.
Chloe, for her part, had been rather glad of the list. She'd been thoroughly unprepared for her move from NOLA to Scotland, and, left to her own devices, she might not have thought to get a waterproof overcoat for the boat ride.
"I'm ready," she said to Jack, grinning. "We're leaving at three, right?"
He nodded. "Yeah, it’s an eight-hour drive. Better get going early."
They'd decided to drive because flying wouldn't be easy with all the weapons they were carting around. Huntsmen were licensed to carry their axes, spears, bows, and swords, but going through customs was still a pain.
Chloe was taking one of the first driving shifts, because she didn't quite feel comfortable enough to sit behind the wheel anywhere near a city; the endless empty Highland roads seemed safer, in case she slipped and ended up on the wrong side of the road.
She had some of her most fascinating lectures on Fridays, including Fin Varra's, but in her anticipation of the trip, she barely paid any attention, instead watching the clock that seemed to run a lot slower than usual. Finally, at two-thirty, she dashed out, heading back to the dorms to grab her things.
Gwen and Blair were already waiting in front of the dorm, the former with a duffle bag on the floor and the latter standing next to a hot pink suitcase.
"You guys are early!"
Gwen shook her head. "No, Jack asked us to set up some protective shields around the vans, just in case. He's bringing them over."
Lifting her head, Chloe could indeed see two large gray vehicles driving toward the dorm. To her surprise, they were coming from Night Hill.
Chloe's heart beat just a little faster, and she cursed herself.
Any acknowledgement of Oldcrest’s middle hill never failed to tug her mind toward one of its inhabitants. And she knew that thinking of him at all was a terrible habit.
Levi De Villier.
She hadn't consciously thought about him in a while—during the day, at least. After their last meeting in his tower, she'd decided to stay the hell away from him. The way she acted around him wasn't normal, it wasn't her—and, in all honesty, it scared the shit out of her.
Chloe blamed the drop of witch blood in her veins. That was the only explanation she had for these actions that went against her nature. So, she liked to pretend he didn't exist at all. It worked, most of the time. Oldcrest had enough distractions, and Levi stuck to his tower, his hill, his people.
She'd seen him a time or two in the distance. His unfair perfection struck her each time. So did her reaction to him. Her desire to get closer, to touch him, to practically climb into his skin.
"Right," she said, forcing her gaze away from the vans. "I'll take a shower and grab my bag; catch you in a few."
She ran up the stairs and rushed to her room.
Opening the door, Chloe froze.
He was here. Why was he here? He hadn't entered her room since January, although seven vials of sleeping draughts magically appeared on her nightstand once a week.
Levi was leaning on the beige and red wall, near the open window, next to Mikar.
She concentrated her attention on her stalker-bodyguard. Him, she could deal with.
The vampire was still following her, and Chloe was used to his shadow. He'd become a friend of sorts. Having him nearby was comforting.
"You know, I wish the thing about vampires not being able to enter places uninvited were true."
He laughed. "Sorry, child. Just following orders."
Dammit. Now she had to turn to Levi.
Chloe forced a smile. He definitely wasn't smiling back; instead, his expression was dark and dangerous. And incredibly alluring.