I lay sprawled across the couch, legs limp, a half-eaten cookie on my chest, staring at the ceiling like it held the answers to my very doomed existence.
My hand drifted to the side of my neck, fingers gently poking the place he bit me.
Still sore.
I poked again.
Still sore.
"What the hell?" I muttered. "Shouldn't vampire bites come with, I don't know, instant healing? Magical saliva or something?"
Salem—currently curled up like a black loaf of smug fur on the armrest—opened one eye lazily.
"That's because he didn't just bite you," he said, voice casual, like he was discussing the weather. "He marked you."
I sat up so fast my vision did a somersault.
"WHAT?"
"Yep. Tracker-style. You and him?" Salem rolled onto his back, stretching. "Connected now. You've basically got a supernatural tracker on your neck."
I froze, hand still over the sore spot. My mouth opened and closed a few times. "You knew?!"
"I smelled it the moment you started wheezing on the stairs," he admitted with a yawn. "But girl, you were barely upright. If I'd told you then, you'd have fainted again, cracked your skull open, and then who would feed me? Priorities."
I blinked at him.
He blinked back.
"You selfish, manipulative, furball."
"Flatter me more."
But I wasn't listening anymore. I was standing—shaky, breath short, tea-stained hoodie clinging to my back with sweat.
He marked me.
He can find me.
Anywhere.
Anytime.
Even now.
"Oh gods." My voice cracked. "He meant it when he said he'd come back."
"He meant it with fang and passion," Salem agreed. "You're practically engraved property now. I'd say you've got, oh, maybe a few hours before he shows up for Round Two. If he hasn't stopped somewhere to snack on a bus full of tourists first. You do know he went to quench his centuries thirsty so he can control his blood thirst around you to torture you into telling him why you used him as a lab rat."
I turned slowly toward the door.
I had to get the fuck out of here. Now.
What if he was out there? What if he was circling back right now, dripping in blood, licking his lips, and ready to finish what he started?
Nope. Nope. NOPE.
I didn't care that I was weak. I didn't care that I looked like I crawled out of a cursed swamp. I wasn't staying here to be Vampire Dinner: The Sequel.
I was still in my tea-stained hoodie and blood-splotched leggings. My hair was a mess, and my neck still throbbed from the vampire hickey of doom. But I didn't have time to shower or pack cute spellbooks. I grabbed the bare essentials:
– My forged academy appointment letter (still slightly damp from last night's tea)
– The charm-stained necklace (better than nothing)
– My miniature spellbook (tiny, barely legible, but familiar)
– And Salem, who, upon realizing what I was doing, leapt onto the kitchen counter like I'd just declared war.
"You can't seriously be thinking of going now," he said, tail puffed. "You look like a lunatic."
"I am a lunatic," I snapped, stuffing cookies into my bag. "A lunatic who values her blood inside her body."
He blinked at me. "You do realize you're heading into a school that's basically Hogwarts on steroids? And your ex teaches there?"
"I'll avoid him."
"You forged documents."
"Better than being dead."
He sighed, long and dramatic, like he was the exhausted one. "And what happens if Lucius follows you?"
I zipped my bag shut. "Then he gets introduced to the legendary magical wards of the academy. And if they fail… well… that's future me's problem."
I paused. Glanced at my familiar. "You in or out?"
He jumped into the bag with all the grace of a spoiled prince.
"You'll need me," he muttered. "You can't even cast 'levitate' without turning your eyebrows into ash."
Fair.
I threw a final look at the cursed, chaotic mess of my home—and slammed the door shut behind me.
Let the real disaster begin.
*******
The academy was a two-day journey away. Two days of cramped rides, suspicious stares, bad food, and me trying to look more like a mysterious, magical professor and less like an exhausted blood donor who hadn't showered since… well, before nearly dying.
At least Salem was quiet—for once.
Surprisingly quiet, in fact. He hadn't said a word since I stuffed him into the bag like a loaf of sass and regrets. Back when I didn't know he could talk, he'd fuss and whine like the drama queen he is—yowling, scratching, screaming like I was suffocating him in a designer handbag.
Now? Silence.
Dead. Quiet. Creepy.
My eye twitched.
I didn't want to unzip the bag. Not in the middle of a moving cab with a human driver who'd probably call animal control—or worse, a priest—if he heard a British-accented cat discussing my lack of magical finesse.
But I was suspicious. Oh-so-suspicious.
Why the fuck hadn't he told me sooner that he could talk?
Had he been watching me all this time? Judging me? Laughing to himself every time I tried to cast a spell and exploded a tea kettle instead?
The little bastard.
What else was he hiding? Did he know Lucius would mark me? Did he know who Lucius really was? Was he even a real familiar or just some cursed creature pretending to be a cat?
I side-eyed the bag, trying to will it to confess secrets.
Nothing. Not even a rustle.
He was doing that on purpose.
Smart, because if I opened the bag now, I'd probably yeet him straight out the window.
Instead, I leaned my head against the cold glass of the cab window and tried not to cry or laugh hysterically. I was running on adrenaline, half a cookie, and betrayal.
And now I had to get ingredients for a spell I wasn't even sure would work—on the way to an academy I forged my way into—so I could pretend to be a teacher while hiding from an ancient, vengeful, illegally awakened vampire who wanted my blood and possibly my soul.
Great.
Just fucking great.
My stomach growled. Loudly.
The cab driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror.
I smiled politely, then looked back down at my bag.
"If you're sleeping, I swear I'll enchant your litter box to self-clean with acid," I muttered under my breath.
No response.
Just wait. I'd find the weirdest herb store, buy the smelliest potion ingredients possible, and keep them in there with him.
Vampires. Talking cats. Fake credentials. Blood loss.
This was fine. Everything was fine.
But if Lucius showed up at any point during this trip?
I was going to feed Salem to him first.