Angry God

“You’re a virgin, aren’t you?” He cocked his head, another one of his patronizing smirks tossed my way.

“Duh, unless Lucifer was feeling desperate…” Arabella huffed, pretending to examine her hot pink nails.

More laughter boomed across the cafeteria.

“That’s enough,” Knight hissed, pushing his tray until it bumped against a smug jock’s abs.

His swift mood change made me think Vaughn had hit a sensitive nerve. As if the Knight Cole even knew what virginity meant. He probably thought a virgin was a Virginia-state resident.

“It’s fine, Knight. I appreciate you coming to my rescue, but I don’t need protection from toothless, ball-less dogs who bark, but can’t bite for shit,” I said serenely, making a point of tucking a bookmark between the pages of my book.

“Whoa…” The guys at the table balled their fists, howling.

I turned to Hunter and the jocks and swept a bored look over their athletic bodies.

“Also, I appreciate the hospitality, but I’m rather adamant on sleeping with men, not immature twats who are only good for drinking, partying, and burning their parents’ hard-earned cash, desperate to forget that high school is the peak of their lives. Which says something, because you’re at an age when not wanking for a day seems like a herculean accomplishment.”

Silence fell across the table. All eyes tried to penetrate the mask of indifference I was clinging to with bloodied fingernails.

Were they expecting me to cry? Cower? Run away?

To ask them why they did this?

Stifling another fake yawn, I licked my finger and flipped a page in my book, taking the bookmark out. My heart searched for an escape route, thrashing against my ribcage. One thing I knew about men like Vaughn Spencer—they either broke you or you broke them. There was no middle ground.

But I wasn’t going to be the one picking up the pieces when we were done with each other.

“You should come and see how it’s done.” Vaughn ignored my comeback, his iron voice slicing the air between us. “Prep you for next year, Good Girl.”

I looked up, despite my best intentions.

“When you assist me, silly. I’m sure your father thinks it’s a great idea.”

No, he doesn’t.

But when was the last time I’d spoken to Papa about my art? About me? He was too busy, and I was too shy to demand his attention. He could think that. He could.

“Never.”

“Never is a very long time,” Vaughn mused, his voice sweet and faraway all of a sudden. “Pride comes before the fall.”

“Don’t be so sure I’ll be the one doing the falling.”

“Considering you can barely fucking walk without tripping over your own feet, I’m hardy shaking.”

“Course not, Vaughn. The only things that scare you are feelings and little girls who walk into the wrong place at the wrong time.”

I’d been busting my bum for years for this internship. I wasn’t going back to Carlisle Castle as an assistant to an intern. I was going to be the intern. Assisting a star intern was prestigious, and I’d have loved the opportunity, but not if the intern was Vaughn.

Never the ocean-eyed god.

I felt my nostrils flare as I stared back at him. I hated him with abandon, with passion that seared through my veins. Fury could be either a weapon or a liability, but in my case, it was both.

There was nothing diabolical about him. No. The devil was red, hot, expressive, and desolate. Vaughn was the Night King—cold, blue, dead, and calculating. You couldn’t get to him, no matter how hard you tried.

I thought wearing black clothes, eyeliner, and making up elaborate stories about my summer in Brazil for fellow students who didn’t care would show him how much I’d changed. But he kept challenging every syllable to come out of my mouth.

It was time to fight back.

“You know what? I think a lesson in oral is an excellent idea. And who could teach it better than the expert?” I shot to my feet, pushing my tray aside.

I had actually been enjoying my pizza before he arrived, but I wasn’t hungry anymore. I also knew my calling him an expert was getting dangerously close to the truth about what had happened in the darkroom that day.

“Shall I bring a notebook to take pointers? Perhaps an iPad?” I smiled, blinking angelically at him.

“Just your smart ass.”

If Vaughn was confused and taken aback, he didn’t show it. Poppy, however, shot up in an instant.

“Lenny!” She slapped her heart. “Why would you ever—”

“Go back to pretending you have a personality, soul, or prospects that do not include marrying a rich, fat asshole who’s going to cheat on you with his secretary and give you ugly-ass kids, Daffodil,” Vaughn barked at my sister, his icicle eyes still holding mine. “This is between me and your sister.”

“It’s Poppy!” she exclaimed, Knight tugging her by the hem of her skirt to sit back down.