Edited.
Claire POV.
"Wakey, wakey, wakey . . ."
Xander's deep voice breaks into my consciousness like a character straight from a horror movie, disturbing my very comfortable slumber.
Go away.
"Wake up, brave one. It's time for your first lesson."
Go away! Go away! I never liked school.
"Claire, wake up."
So, he's not going to go away?
"No, I'm not going away. We have less than three days before the new moon, which means you have less than seventy-two hours to make your first move."
I don't want to move. Nope. I want to stay right here, wrapped up in these silk sheets, sleeping on this fluffy silk pillow, on this big comfortable bed. Yes, this is the life! Sleeping my life away in this bomb-ass bed. I like it.
Xander must have finally learned how to stay out of my head. I'm only saying this because he doesn't respond.
Keep your big mouth shut.
Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. I knew my smart mouth would eventually pay off. Thank you, Miss Smarty-pants for gluing the blood monster's mouth shut. I would have made a kick-ass big sister, chasing my sibling's bad dreams away.
I'm very close to catching some more zzz's and extremely close to snoring my life away when I hear plates clattering, and the most delightful smell invades my senses.
Fuck! The blood monster comes with reinforcements. He is breaking down my defense. I can't win against that smell, that mouthwatering aroma of maple syrup, butter, and pancakes! Oh geez, that smell would wake me up from my deathbed.
I open my eyes and immediately jump out of bed.
Xander is standing in the center of the room, holding a platter filled with stacks of pancakes. I watch the dripping maple syrup and notice they're topped with powdered sugar. My stomach roars, and he flashes a Chesire-like smile, showing off his pearly white fangs.
"The school is required to document every single time a student misbehaves," informs Xander proudly.
"With that being said, it wasn't that hard to find out about your little arrangement with the school cooks." He moves the plate filled with fluffy heaven from left to right. My eyes follow his movements. Oh my gosh! I can't believe they actually documented how many times I've bribed the cook. So what? Who wouldn't blackmail a person to make pancakes?
That's a little too much, don't you think? No one should know that I would do anything, I mean anything in my power to have those delicious flour cakes with sugary contents on top. They are just that good.
I lick my lips. "Okay, you win. I will complete whatever lesson you want me to. Just give me those goddamn pancakes."
Xander provides a triumphant smirk. Oh, I'm starting to hate that deadly, beautiful, evil, goddamn smirk.
He passes me the tray, nodding his head after I grab it. I could only hope that was a gesture indicating that I could eat, but with or without it, I would have dived in.
The moment the tray is in my hand. I waste no time doing exactly what I said: diving right in, devouring the fluffy heaven cakes. They taste as good as they smell.
Xander is still watching me with a smug look on his face, looking like a kid who was gifted with a shiny new toy. He has found my weakness, and he knows it.
"Now that I brought you breakfast in bed, we can start with your first lesson of the day," he says, after clearing his throat (for the effect I'm sure).
"I meant what I said. I didn't do that well in school. Vampire curriculum was never my thing, but you already know that with you having my file and all, don't you?" I ask, using air quotes with my fingers just to add my effect.
Ha, two can play that game!
"You're right," confesses Xander, pulling a folder from behind his back.
Where did that come from? I know the pancakes are a perfect distraction, but I still should have recognized the folder, especially one with my picture attached to it.
"You earned a D in vampire studies, which indicates that there's room for improvement for you to learn our history, society, and culture. That also tells me that you succeeded in passing some lessons." He pauses, raising his eyebrow. "If I had to take a guess, I'm banking on you having passed the vampire sociology lesson, right?" Xander asks, pausing again, lost in his own thoughts, pondering.
"You received an F in slave hospitality, an F in marketing, an F in linguistics, an F in agriculture and forestry, and an F in merchandise, and a D in chemistry, physics, earth science, and biology. Your mathematics courses are decent, and so are your dining skills,"—he shrugs his shoulders—"based upon watching you eat."
I feel like I'm in the headmaster's office again for the thousandth time in my life. I continue to eat my delicious pancakes, sucking my fingers and tuning out as much as possible. This is exactly why I hated school so much. We are expected to be excellent. We are expected to uphold certain standards, without room for faults. We are expected to pass stupid tests on what expects us to know when really, we should be taught how to turn a negative into a positive and work through our flaws.
Life is not about being excellent. It is about making mistakes, living, and learning how not to make the same mistake twice. If Xander wants to teach me anything, he should be showing me how to flip my negatives into a positive, not point out what he believes I failed on, based upon lessons that someone else believes I should know.
Xander stops talking, just to further study my file. I hate that file. I hate that another person, vampire or human, has a piece of paper to tell others what they observed about me. No one knows me but me. Fuck that piece of paper.
He clears his throat.
"As I stated before, the schools my kind has built are meant to break and classify you," he informs me, throwing the file in the air. His attention shifts to me. "I don't want to break you, Claire. I don't want you to be the perfect little pet or a grade-A student who sees the world how I expect you to see it," he tells me, finally gaining my attention.
He makes his way over, and I stare at him blankly. He returns my stare with his beautiful, stormy-gray eyes. Usually, his eyes are icy gray, like the snow. I don't understand why they suddenly take the shade of a tornado. I'm only used to vampire eyes turning red. What does it mean when they darken? Maybe I should have paid attention in school, just maybe.
"I don't want to classify you and place you where I believe you belong. No, I don't want that at all," declares Xander.
"So, what do you want?" I ask, placing my plate on the bed stand.
I don't have time for his riddles. It's time for answers. Does Xander want to play teacher? Okay, he can play teacher as long as he wants, but I will ask questions.
"You know what they say, 'No question is a dumb question'," I quote Ms. Fox.
"The real question is, What do you want?" he asks, using reverse psychology.
I don't know how to reply, so I just continue to stare at him blankly.
He takes a seat beside me. The entire bed sinks in due to his big frame. We stare at each other quietly for a long-drawn-out moment, and I find myself getting lost in his dark stare.
Xander is a handsome vampire. He makes me nervous sometimes, but he still fails in comparison with how nervous his brother makes me feel. Thinking of that makes me wonder where King Nicklaus is. The last time I saw him was when they were arguing. I miss him a little. Okay, I miss him a lot, but no one needs to know that.
"Aww, that's sweet," murmurs Xander, poking out his lips to make a smooching sound.
My cheeks grow hot and red. Goodness gracious, vampires with their damn mind-reading powers! I look away from him but he continues to watch me. My cheeks are flaming red from this sudden change of conversation. Someone, please save me.
"Don't be shy, Claire. It's okay to like him," Xander soothes.
"I don't know what you're talking about." I shrug, staring out the window. My cheeks probably look like swollen tomatoes right now.
"Right." Xander's smile widens as he changes the conversation. "Let's just tackle one task at a time. I need to know what you want, Claire. Be honest. I want you to pretend like you're talking to another human."
Right. That's easier said than done. Xander might be the nicest, sweetest, most‑easygoing vamp I know, but he is still a vamp. He is still a big, fast, powerful, sexy, and malicious vampire.
"Hey, you'd had me until you called me malicious," he teases, obviously reading my mind again.
I turn to face him. "Stay out of my head, Xander."
"I won't have to be in your head if you just tell me what you want," he points out, flashing his pearly white fangs.
Well, he has a point, but I won't admit that to him. He is already cocky enough. And that smile? My God that freaking smile of his.
"Well, right now,"—I pause and smile back—"I want to wipe that perfect, sparkly white smile off your perfect vamp face," I tell him.
Boom! He wanted honesty. How's that for honesty?
Xander laughs a melodious laugh, and I can't help but laugh with him. He is such a cool vampire. We laugh for a long time, only stopping to catch our breaths and then going right back to laughing. It's a laughing party. I have never experienced anything like this.
"Xander, you are such a joy," I admit in between fits of giggles.
He freezes and then pats my lap, finally settling down. He is still smiling, but it's not that genuine smile that I received only moments ago.
The air in the room shifts completely, going stiff.
Wait, did I say something wrong? Freak, I'm not good at having a good time. Is it really a crime to say someone is a joy? Is that some kind of vampire no-go area? I don't think it is.
Freak. Good job, Claire. You really know how to ruin the mood.
He stands to his full height and turns to face the window.
"You never answered my question, Claire. What do you want?" he asks once again.
"I want to die," I answer.
He snaps his neck in my direction, his eyes quickly shifting to a blazing red as I gaze into them. I hold up my hand to stop him from interrupting, taking a deep breath, then I continue, "I want to be free. I want to live a life without chains. I want to live without fear and worry that today will be my last day. I yearn to see my people out of slavery. I yearn to see human children grow up with their mother, father, and siblings.
I want to see humans going to school to be taught about our history. I yearn to see humans simply being humans, not pets, not chosens, not slaves, not breeders, not bleeders, or whatever else your bloody kind wants to label us. I want to be free. I want my people to be free and far away from the ones who call themselves masters. The only way I will achieve that type of freedom is by death. We all will be free by death!" I yell with anger seeping through my pores, and I know I have the right to be angry.
Vampires are the reason for my anger—Xander, Nicklaus, and every one of those vampire kings who conquered the world. Just thinking about what I want and knowing that I will never have them makes me angry. Being human makes me angry. Hell, just being Claire, a name that they gave me, makes me angry.
Xander doesn't say anything right away. His eyes are still burning red, ablaze with the anger of his own. I know I may have hurt him with my words about his kind. However, in my defense, he asked for the truth.
Seconds turn into minutes and then it starts to feel like hours of silence.
His eyes begin to shift, from red to a dark, stormy gray. He has never appeared to be so scary. Since day one, he has always been the opposite of what I expected him to be. He has proven everyone wrong. Now, I'm not so sure.
I hold my head high, keeping my eyes locked with his. I will show no fear. He asked for the truth, and I told it.
"Talk about mood change," says Xander, in an attempt to lighten the mood.
Once again, he proves to be different—the cool vamp. I lower my head, taking a moment to get my emotions in check.
Xander slowly approaches me, only stopping an inch away.
"I'm not allowing you to die, Claire." He places his finger under my chin. "I will never allow anything or anyone to hurt you again. Now that you have told me that you want freedom, tell me how else you can achieve it because death is not an option."
With teary eyes, I stare into his own eyes filled with emotion.
"I honestly don't know, Xander," I admit.
He releases me and walks away, leaving me to my own thoughts.
I feel bad for saying mean things about his kind. I mean Xander is truly the kindest person I have ever encountered. He didn't deserve my foul words.
He returns with a fitted long white dress. It has been carefully assembled with delicate lace features and a nude silk slip underneath, to appear as though I'm naked under the lace.
"First you must look the part," he says, smiling from ear to ear. There goes that dreamy, pearly white smile. "And then, we are going to play my favorite game." He pauses, just for a second. "We are going to play chess," he continues.
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