V for Vampire Hunter: Hunter V, #1

By Brianna West

One new-to-love vampire hunter. Several supernatural hotties who want to do more than train her. But with the world against her, can she find love?

I'm V. I was raised to be a kick-butt huntress of evil. I trained and honed my craft, putting the dead in undead, even when it was a cycle of just trying really hard not to die.

My substitute high school teacher, who looks like a gorgeous bad boy who'll steal your car and snag your girl, hasn't come to lecture students. He's a Hunter like me. Worse, he drops a great big life bomb and says he's the only one who can help me go after the very same people who made us Hunters, the Organization.

If that weren't enough, my werewolf boyfriend—who I'm not allowed to date—and my brand-new uber sexy mentor (teacher?) can't seem to get along. Don't get me started on the sexy Brit or the pack of wolves my Shifter boyfriend failed to mention, all while revenge and secrets unravel in this shiz-storm I call my life.

With a target on my back and a super powerful Dark Fae out to assassinate me, it's any wonder how a girl manages to date anyone, let alone several. Lucky me, right?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Brianna West
• Release date: Mar 15, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201243746

Brianna West

Brianna West is an Amazon Bestselling author. She eats words for breakfast. When not nose-deep in a hot paranormal read, she's writing about slick, muscly goodness and the bad-ass, sassy heroine goddesses who find them. Her stories drip with sarcasm, supernatural impossibility, and contain enough adventure and suspense to leave you at the edge of your seat all the way through. Take a step--or leap--into her well-established world of the Guardians to meet the characters who gave life to a paranormal empire. Subscribe to her newsletter: https://www.subscribepage.com/briannawest

Book preview

1

V for Vampire Hunter

STAKE. Check.

Favorite lace-up military-style boots. Check.

Holy water. Double check.

All the makings of a great, unoriginal vampire hunter costume. But make no mistake, this one was the real deal. Three hundred years of genetics, to be precise.

A birthright. One I was never given a chance to grumble about because I was trained to be an elite Hunter from the very moment I was born.

Sock ‘em like puppets and put the dead in undead, as my white-haired, angel-faced grandmother often said.

The same lady all the kids in the neighborhood praised as the Most Lovable Grandmother was one of the fiercest and deadliest martial artist vampire hunters the Organization employed. Now seventy-five and basically deadly by mouth only, Grandma Rose merely trained like the devil and took no prisoners when it came to teaching me how to be the next best vampire huntress.

And believe it, the bruises all over my body accounted for all the hard work and dedication I’d put towards this thankless job of cleaning up the trash under the guise of a sweet, unassuming teenager.

Barely over five feet, normal physique, freckles everywhere, ginger hair, and hazel eyes made me appear less than dangerous. Actually, it sort of worked in my favor since I looked more like the prey than the hunter. The countless, blood-thirsty bastards never saw me coming.

While my fellow teens were out partying and making horrible life choices, I was here, stalking prey outside a decrepit farm house because some of us didn’t get a damn night off. Not even on the most fun, some would argue, spookiest night of the year could I act my age and spend a night out with my peers, living bad decisions and tasting the euphoria of adolescence.

Instead, I was crouched beside a prickly bush, showered by moonlight and eaten alive by bugs. But it was Halloween—a vampire’s favorite night to play.

Imagine a night where you were permitted to let it all hang out: fangs, pale-ass skin, haughty light-colored eyes, and dark circles that would rival any new mother. It was a feast every year. Every year the disappearances were chalked up to the stupid choices of teenagers who made one terrible choice too many.

Vampires sucked the blood right out of you, like the stories said. Just, they were clever enough to pose each death as a freak accident. Car crashes, severed limbs, decapitation—you name it, they did it. Vampires were crafty little devils and figured out over the course of their immortal lives that too much attention was bad attention.

Hell, I learned that in only seventeen years of life.

So, our vast network of vampire hunters kept careful track of freak accidents in all the different regions, watching for patterns and then calling on us special folk, the ones with the blood of the elders, to carry out the kills.

Aka, me and my kind.

Unlike normal people, we were faster and twice as strong as any muscle man. We easily tracked vampire movements and picked up on scents like damn bloodhounds. And to add spice to an already spicy mix, most of us spent our lives honing the gifts we were born with.

Interestingly, females of the bloodline were stronger and deadlier. So, the only female to be born outside of my grandmother in our family line for nearly four generations meant the expectations that I would become a hardcore badass were far and away the worst part about this job.

I never got a damn minute to breathe.

Hence why a seventeen-year-old, decked out to the teeth in weapons and practically frozen, was crouched near an abandoned farm house, waiting in the wings for one wrong step, one wrong move that offered enough of an opening to do the only thing I was good at.

Killing vampires.

I sensed the thing inside, lugging an unconscious teenager over his shoulder.

Decked out in a fitted floral vest, Victorian lace jabot, and ruffled sleeves even I snickered at, the undead bastard really tried his hand at appearing the perfect embodiment of Lestat from Interview with a Vampire. Even his perfect Shirley Temple curls pulled back into a low ponytail offered an almost iconic sheen in the moonlit painted hay-scape of the barn. And if not for the unconscious body over his shoulder, no one would be the wiser to what he was or what he was doing there.

To be fair, even with the teen over his shoulder, most would attribute it to a night spent drinking and the designated buddy who had the unfair task of getting the bastard home.

I toed closer before comically catching my shirt on a branch. Clicking my tongue, I damned the bush for stealing my focus and yanked myself free.

I tracked the undead bastard all the way from town to this barn thanks to an injury on the teen’s head, likely from being knocked out.

Unlike the stories told, vampires didn’t have any sort of mystical power over humans to turn them into mindless minions. A head bash was as close as they got to magical compliance.

And unfortunately for me, Lestat was surprisingly popular this Halloween, so finding the undead bastard took far too long. I was already cutting it close with an injured victim taken hostage. Since Halloween was one of the busiest nights of the year, it was me, myself, and I tonight. I didn’t have time to call for back-up, so one way or another, this bastard was going down.

Is that you, V?

I made a sound in my throat before catching myself.

How did I miss the sound of a car parking or approaching footsteps?

Amateur move.

I did a full spin and looked up at the noticeably beautiful man standing behind me. Then my eyes tracked back to where the vampire had been only seconds before, but to my dismay, the entire area was free of any trace of the imposter Lestat.

Fuck my life.

What are you even doing out here? he pried.

I stood up and slipped the Holy Water coated dagger into its sheathe, out of sight of normal boy eyes. Just...you know, admiring this bush here.

The bush?

It’s a great bush.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Sure... His piercing dark eyes stayed with me a second before stealing a look at the empty farm house. Were you waiting for someone?

I balked openly. Me? No. Think fast. I heard stories.

About the bush?

Damn this persistent, beautiful idiot. If not for being entirely bogged down by the vampire who escaped and its prey likely already killed and discarded, I would’ve taken a minute to admire this stunning six-foot-three upperclassman I’d spent years not-so-secretly in love with.

No, about the ghosts...because...

Oh, that old story. He seemed to pick up on my poor excuse for an answer and nodded the direction of the farm house. Want company?

YES!

No, I answered breathlessly, damning my responsibilities. I’ve already done all of that investigation stuff and now I’m leaving.

After admiring this bush, you mean? he teased.

Oh, he was funny. And adorable. And beautiful. And so, so forbidden.

Yeah...right. I agreed, patting the bush awkwardly. Good bush.

Covering his mouth, my new friend’s dark complexion caught the moonlight and gave off a golden hue before his obsidian eyes landed on me with interest. You’re always so funny, V.

He called me V, and I was living for it. I hated my old-woman name Vivienne, so everyone just called me V. But I could count on one hand how many times I’d spoken to Nigel. We’d never gotten to the nickname part of the relationship.

We’re practically married already.

That’s me, the funny one, I offered lamely, losing track of the whole reason I was trying to hurry the gorgeous man along. And...what about you?

What about me, what?

Did you also come out here to admire this bush, or are you meeting someone? I pried shamelessly.

Last I heard, he was single. He had a girlfriend for nearly two years, but they broke up last year and I’d been a hopeful, invisible admirer ever since. Not that I was in any position to date, or even dream of dating someone like Nigel. Being a Hunter meant that I spent a fair amount of time nearly dying. And when I wasn’t nearly dying, I was training to try to avoid dying and nearly dying doing it. It really was a vicious cycle; one that didn’t leave room for a boyfriend.

Can I be honest?

Oh, god.

Why does it worry me when you ask that?

Nigel chuckled softly and took a step closer. I was a bit worried about you. Someone said you dodged in and out of every party going on tonight, asking about a Lestat dressed person. Then it was mentioned you drove this direction.

I was a bit desperate towards the end, and I guess my desperation caught up with me. Now I’d earned myself a worried bystander.

Ah, yeah...

Is this guy you’re looking for your boyfriend, maybe?

My mouth dropped open, and I had to catch myself to keep from yelling out in protest. Um, no. More like this guy is sort of a thorn in my side, but you don’t need to worry about it. We should go ahead and head back.

So, not your boyfriend then? he asked again, and my heart pounded like this was a rom-com and not an action-horror sort of evening. Well, guess it doesn’t matter. There’s all kinds of animals out here and it’s a bad idea to come out here alone, even if you think someone else is here.

Damn this beautiful bastard for making me second-guess my responsibilities towards an injured nobody caught in the slimy clutches of a Lestat imposter.

No, you’re right. I guess I wasn’t thinking. It’s a little cold and creepy out here. Let’s get going, I insisted, pretending to be uncomfortable and cold.

Although, to be honest, I was pretty cold. Even in layers, an hour in this wind chill was enough to make my bones freeze.

The hair on the back of my neck stood up and I stalled in my forward trek. Head twisting, I looked the direction I felt its presence. Eyes dodging left and right, I scanned the area.

The scent I registered was enough to put weight into my stomach. The gleam of pale eyes stole my focus, and without realizing what I was doing, I took Nigel by the arm and towed him over to his car with enough strength he nearly dragged beside me. Only seconds after shoving him inside the driver’s side, a strong impact echoed inside my chest and I slammed into the car door with a sickening thud. Glass cracked, and Nigel’s eyes widened as I groaned and pushed off the door with shaky arms.

That’s going to bruise in the morning.

Blade already out, I sliced down into the arm reaching out for me. The vampire retreated with a hiss as Holy Water soaked into his skin, burning pure-white flesh. I evaded another swipe and threw an arm out before catching the bastard by the neck and throwing him to the floor.

I’m a god!

A cloud of dirt billowed up around us before I was yanked forward, and then pinned to the ground. Coughing, I kicked my knee up and caught the bastard in the stomach. With practiced movements and years of Hunter training under my belt, I forced his weight to the side and pushed my blade into his chest.

The vampire grunted and took hold of my shoulders—my hands failing to pry his off—then tossed me like a weightless doll across the dirt-covered ground. I rolled and hit every damn rock imbedded into the floor before coming to a full stop. To my eternal chagrin, I was grossly covered from head to toe in muck and blood.

That’s going to be a bitch to wash out.

But I didn’t have time to recover or bemoan my destroyed outfit. I was quickly dodging another attack; one that flaunted a twelve-inch blade that could easily decapitate me if I lost focus.

On my stomach, I pushed myself off the ground with enough force to loft me to my feet and blocked another assault aimed at my throat. Round-house kicking the bastard so hard it’d break bone, I sliced through his finger with my blade and the vampire recoiled to stabilize his injured hand.

Hunter, the vampire spat. I should’ve known. You little bastards are hard to fight off.

I dodged another attempt when he reached for me and kicked out my foot, sending the thing colliding with the floor. Dust took flight again in a great burst and distorted my view before it settled.

But he was gone.

Stake in hand, I searched the area and backed up several steps to go where Nigel was trapped inside the car.

If I didn’t sink this into the bastard’s chest soon, there was no telling how long I’d last with someone to protect. Unfortunately, with how fast and strong this one was, it was very likely he was hundreds of years old. I wasn’t trained enough to take on one that strong. Grandma Rose had even warned me against it, saying calculated retreat was sometimes the only option. But with someone relying on me to keep them safe, retreat wasn’t an option.

Older vampires were harder to kill. A stake would need to be followed up by decapitation, and I’d need to be in top form.

Lestat makes more sense now that I’m thinking about it, I mumbled, panning the area again.

The world around me was quiet. Nothing stirred in the wake of battle, and I couldn’t detect the bastard’s presence.

With my mind cycling through tactical retreat plans, I gripped the stake tighter and glanced at Nigel. To my surprise, he wasn’t freaking out. I mean, not really. Not in the way I’d seen before.

Granted, shock took many forms.

It was likely he hadn’t registered what was happening yet. There was a memory tonic Grandma Rose taught me to make that erased memories. It wasn’t always successful, so the Organization—our vampire hunter operation—employed several professionals to work through the visions and hallucinations of an evening spent fighting off a creature of the night.

But Nigel looked almost calm in comparison to all the others I’d encountered.

Turning back, I shifted from one foot to the other, agitated by the silence. If not for Nigel, I’d be chasing the bastard down. But old vampires were bad news and had years of experience evading and fighting off my kind. My lack of training and handicapped state spelled death in every case but one.

Escape.

I peered at Nigel, decided. It’s time to get the fuck out of here.

V! Nigel called out just as another blow forced me into the unforgiving metal of the car, smacked into it like a pancake.

My head collided with glass and it cut into my skull, all but ruining my updo. Dazed, I coughed out blood and collapsed to my knees. Darkness swirled around me, and my consciousness wavered as I tried to steady myself on all fours. A loud ringing echoed in my ears, smothering out all other sounds.

Shit on a stick, this night was already off to a terrible start. And all in front of the boy I liked. How lovely.

On my feet again, I cradled my side and opened my legs, assuming a defensive stance. But then my heart was in my throat.

Nigel wasn’t in the car.

The window was broken out and glass glittered dangerously all over the dirt. I traced the footsteps on the ground, but my vision was swaying too much to infer much more than the fact that whoever it was, they’d run off.

Did I pass out?

Nigel! I called out, taking ginger steps.

Dammit, my ears were still ringing.

Senses slowed, I didn’t move in time to evade another attack. I struck the already cratered car door and was showered with the leftover glass from the window.

Shaking to get rid of the fog in my head, I blocked a hand full of razor-sharp fingernails, then slammed a brass-knuckled fist into the creature’s chest. But it wasn’t enough to stop him. With another loud bang, my back hit the car door and a strong hand wrapped tightly around my neck, depriving me of air.

Struggling, I kicked a knee out, but the vampire merely smirked and batted it away. The pressure in my head built up, alerting me to the fact that I was likely to lose consciousness if I didn’t get this damn thing off of me.

I threw my arm down across my offender’s outstretched one and sunk a foot straight into his chest, vaulting the bastard away from me with enough strength to do damage. The vampire collided and slid across the ground, his clothing finally displaying large tears across the front.

I stared, vision still suffering slightly, and tried to make sense of what I was seeing. Why were Lestat’s clothes shredded like he’d been cut by claws and not blades?

Before I could get a better look, a dark beast the size of a bear darted out and landed with a stomach-turning thud on the collapsed vampire. Sharp white teeth gleamed before the beast tore through the vampire’s throat, decapitating my foe just as a shrill cry echoed out into the night.

I wasn’t a stranger to torn flesh and severed limbs. I had even seen a decapitation or two before the vampires I fought were turned to ash. But this was the first time I’d seen a beast the size of a bear tear out a vampire’s throat, effectively severing its head with the bite.

Even worse, nothing would’ve prepared me for being made witness to such a brutal, horrific demise. Especially because I wasn’t sure what to make of the beast—friend or foe.

I stumbled backwards, shoulder landing on the door I’d been previously thrown into. What...?

Gold eyes flicked up from the mangled corpse on the ground before the slaughtered vampire disappeared into ash and took to the sky like a dark cloud of death. Eyes of the purest, brightest gold continued to bore into mine before the beast reshaped and stood in front of me as the man I’d spent a lifetime crushing on.

Nigel came forward and touched a sore spot on my head.

Gasping in surprise, I recoiled and molded myself against the car, suddenly more scared than I’d ever been in the presence of any vampire. Werewolf. But...they’re not real.

Nigel offered me a bitter smile. You believe in vampires but not werewolves?

I...but...

We’ve stayed relatively hidden from your kind, believe it or not. Found ways to control our transformation and live practically like humans, Nigel started conversationally, kneeling down and lifting me into a princess hold.

If not for being immobilized by surprise, I would’ve complained I was able-bodied enough to walk myself.

And if not for tonight, probably would’ve stayed that way. Here, at least.

I swallowed around my surprise before realizing what knowing his secret as a vampire hunter meant. So...I imagine you’ll have to kill me, then?

Kill you?

He appeared to be genuinely surprised.

Since I know your secret, I argued.

It almost sounded like I thought killing me was the only option. Not really the argument of a sound woman, so I conveniently blamed the head injury.

After doing all that to save you? Nigel countered with a husky laugh. Seems awfully backwards if I saved you only to kill you afterwards. I even ensured the human the vampire attempted to kill was stowed away somewhere safe. I’ll do you one better; I’ll make sure he makes it home.

The dude with the head bash!

His wink was lost to me as my job description reared its ugly head. I’d all but forgotten about the victim caught in the evil clutches of an old-ass vampire.

Well, that was nice of you and all, but you and your kind... I struggled to piece a sentence together, mouth moving lazily after my injury settled into a steady throb.

Fight for the same things that Hunters do, he interjected as I helplessly ignored how much I felt like a girl being carried in his arms. Don’t be fooled. The Organization and Hunters already know about us. Since we don’t cause each other trouble, I guess it sort of serves us both to stay out of each other’s way, right?

That actually made perfect sense.

When I asked my grandmother why vampires existed but nothing else, she only smiled and shrugged. Maybe that was her way of acknowledging it without saying anything. Though, she told me that every vampire hunter should gather their own account of the world; that I shouldn’t rely on others to tell me what was or wasn’t true.

A true Hunter used their mind and their heart to do the job. No matter what, we made our own choices.

Grandma Rose always did have a sneaky way of evading my questions.

So, a werewolf, I whispered.

Does it change things for you?

Sat on the passenger seat of my car, the one that hadn’t been brutalized in the fight, I was given a real chance to look at my savior, only to realize a second later Nigel wasn’t wearing any clothes.

I turned my head, hoping to give him privacy but earning myself another hard throb. Groaning, I held my head and waited out the echo of pain.

Nigel took my hands and knelt down in front of me. I already knew...

Knew?

You were a vampire hunter.

Well, now him showing up makes more sense.

For how long?

Since your Grandma Rose asked me to keep an eye on you, he offered, smiling.

That wily old fox!

I’d say I was surprised, but that sounds like something she’d do. So, for how long? How long have you been my personal stalker?

Nigel’s face expressed just how entertaining he found my exhausted grumbling. I’ve been your faithful shadow for quite some time. Until tonight, I never felt the need to step in, Nigel said with a knowing smile.

Yeah, that bastard was one old-ass mofo, and strong as all get-out. It’s not often that I feel the breath of death on my face, but I definitely felt it tonight, I rambled, keeping my eyes effectively pinned to his face and not his naked bottom half.

Hence why I was forced to step in. Taking a half beat to grab a pair of jeans, Nigel did us both a favor by dressing quickly and kneeling back down in front of me.

So... I trailed, lips rising, what’s Grams got on you that forced you into a life of servitude?

Nigel’s smile grew wicked. Best not to say. I’m told guys are more attractive when there’s a bit of mystery to them.

He wanted to be attractive to me? It was hard to swoon with a head injury, but I managed it just fine.

Nigel looked out to where the battle had taken place, and then back to where I was injured. Let’s get you home. I’m going to be in trouble as it is. Someone surprised me by playing hero.

Giggling, I nodded. Bet you never expected I’d drag you and shove you into the car.

Not how I fantasized it happening, no.

I’ll put in a good word, I snarked, grinning at him. You really did save me.

I may have been the reason you were injured in the first place.

Taking all the credit? Greedy. Come to think of it, why did you call out to me? I asked, finally realizing that if he was charged to watch from the shadows, calling out to me was certainly not how one stayed invisible.

Nigel took a long moment, then smiled in a way that put heat into my face. Guess I just decided it was time.

Time? I asked, searching his expression with interest. Time for what?

For the girl I like to finally notice me.

Even with a head injury, I blushed with a radiance befitting the sun itself.

Without another word, Nigel slipped into the driver’s seat and turned on the ignition. With a bright beam of lights, we headed back the direction we came.

It was only for a moment, but I genuinely breathed a thankful sigh. I’d come close to dying, but thanks to the help of a surprising new beast buddy, I’d live to fight another day. And maybe, just maybe, I’d even gotten myself a real, honest-to-goodness boyfriend in the process.

For the first time in my life, I was grateful to be born a vampire hunter.

2

Hot For Teacher

OVER FIVE MONTHS LATER...

I lobbed my backpack from the backseat and checked the dark circles under my eyes in the rear-view mirror before sighing.

Not going to win Prom Queen, but at least the black eye from the night before was relatively hard to see under layers and layers of concealer. Thanks to my body’s propensity towards healing quickly, tomorrow the bruise would be barely noticeable. So, it wouldn’t likely require the beauty-queen-thick application of makeup to hide it.

Someone knocked on the driver’s side window, and I turned just in time to catch sight of the blinding smile of an angel. Okay, maybe not an angel, but close. More like a gorgeous specimen of male perfection.

Are you going to get out, or should I just leave you to do... he paused, his smile growing. Well, whatever it is you’re doing? Working on your resting B face?

The moment was gone. He’d ruined it.

Spitefully, I threw the door open and caught the brute in the knees. His laughing pain was enough to calm the raging hormones coursing through these teenage veins of mine. If not that, then definitely the disarming smile he offered only a second later when I tried—unsuccessfully—to glare at him.

You’re late, I complained.

The crowd of my fellow there but not happy about it cohorts filed into school after the final bell rang, suggesting I should haul ass or risk Mr. Reed’s clown wig of shame.

No, really. Mr. Reed, my first period English teacher, was a sadist of the cleverest nature. He used a clown wig and bright red nose to punish tardy students. And unlike Nigel, I didn’t look good in everything I was forced to wear.

Some of us weren’t gods gifted with a perfect mug and drool-worthy physique. Some of us also didn’t want to unintentionally become a GIF to commemorate the moment of unparalleled shame.

Well, I don’t really need to be here on time, he argued.

Right. Nigel wasn’t technically a student anymore. He graduated last year, and now he worked as a volunteer assistant coach to the gym teacher, Mrs. Flank. And yes, I found her name giggle worthy. Nigel did the assistant bit all while attending his college courses.

Well, that was the story, anyway.

Nigel had become something of a partner of mine to my missions lately. In the last few months, the uptick in vampire activity had the Organization on the edge. Too many were coming into the state for no apparent reason, and even Grandma Rose came out of retirement to work with the upper crust to game plan the new surge of hostiles.

You should be resting today, Nigel said while trailing after me.

But I wouldn’t be distracted by his glorious beauty. Not today. I picked up speed to get to class on time. No clown wig for this chick. Definitely not when I spent all night hunting down a vampire who thought it’d be a great idea to surprise punch me in the face and take off running like some kind of five-year-old with no sense of direction and a shrill scream.

And miss out on my fourth period Calculus quiz? I think not, I snarked, not the least bit ready for said quiz. What are you so late for, anyway? Trouble in paradise?

This, he said, gesturing to his clean outfit and fresh, handsome man look, doesn’t happen without careful attention. I just lost track of time.

Sounds an awful lot like an excuse to me, I rebutted with a sideways grin. Aren’t you just going to dress up in gym clothes and yell at lazy teenagers in an hour? Why even bother putting a suit on? His look of disapproval was reward enough. Can’t even pretend what you beautiful people go through to look so...clean.

I just woke up like always, tamed a frizzy mess of ginger hair that would rival a caveperson, and threw on whatever pair of jeans didn’t smell like dirt.

Grams once hoped I’d play pretty princess on occasion, but when I only wore clothes to run and fight in, she stopped trying to encourage me to dress up.

She knew it was pointless.

We were never off the clock. Hunters didn’t get a night off. The only time I felt like a real teenager was when I struggled to stay awake in classes and took tests for subjects I barely studied for. Luckily, I was smarter than most and didn’t have too much trouble unless it was English.

Mr. Reed didn’t appreciate my sparkling sarcasm in my writing—called it reckless prose and marked me down for a lack of direction and formula. For a dude who put every tardy student in his class into a clown ensemble, he didn’t really have a great sense of humor.

Ironic, huh?

I waved Nigel away and headed to class. But when I closed in on the entrance, a subtle feeling of being watched struck me. I paused and looked over my shoulder, then carefully panned the area.

It was daylight and no reason to be concerned it was a vampire, but something felt off.

The silent alarm in the back of my head rang. My spidey senses were going off, and I couldn’t pretend it didn’t make me uneasy when I found nothing or no one to connect the feeling to after scouring the area three times over.

Something wrong?

Shoulders hunched, I slowly dragged my gaze to the source of the voice. Well, good morning, Mr. Reed.

Thought I’d find you here. The offensive wig and nose were already cradled in his arm, and my English teacher’s smile rivaled my worst nightmare. After you...

Shit on a stick. I was going to be a GIF by the end of the day, and it was all Nigel’s fault.

WHO IS THAT?! SOMEONE whispered as a gorgeous man in an expensive suit, likely beyond what a teacher’s salary could afford, strode into the room.

His thick, dark hair was swept back into a smart look and his piercing light eyes landed on me the minute he strolled into the classroom, trailing our principal.

Even in a suit, it was apparent the dude spent a fair amount of time at the gym. The way he walked, his eyes taking in the room in several short pans, also indicated some sort of military training.

Maybe he was ex-army or marines?

The way he checked for all the exits and swept his eyes across the corners of the room suggested some sort of tactical training, and it intrigued me.

When my gaze wandered, I caught sight of tattoos along his neck and hands. That stalled me for a second. Tattoos in those areas almost always meant there were others. Lots of others.

Tattooed neck and hands? If not some kind of ex-military man, he’d be something else entirely.

So, what was this dude, an ex-convict?

This is Mr. Smith, our nearly bald, extra love around the middle principal introduced. He’ll be taking over Mrs. Johnson’s classes for the rest of the year.

I’d never seen a man look so dangerous and delicious at the same time.

Honestly, I didn’t want to feel the twist and echo of my girly regions responding to the sexy new teacher on campus, but here we were. I wasn’t impervious to hot guys, especially not the ones that looked all bad and mystery. And when his eyes didn’t leave mine for what felt like hours, I couldn’t even pretend not to be entranced by the air he put out.

That was one dark and handsome bad idea.

My phone vibrated in my pocket, forcing me to break the uncomfortable eye contact so I could slyly drag it out. Then guilt settled like the weight of a cheating girlfriend in my stomach when Nigel’s message came up, nothing but sweet and concerned about how I was feeling.

Well, Nigel, I’m a terrible girlfriend.

The guilt might actually feel worse than the huge bruise on my side from the night before when I took a sucker-punch to the hip.

Vivienne.

My head jerked up and I did a poor job of hiding my phone, my cohorts immediately laughing at my expense. Sir?!

Mr. Smith has requested for you stay back to show him around. I have a few things to do. Since you were tardy this morning, I figured you must have plenty of time to tour the school after class.

Mad burn, Principal Ricardson.

Yep! Sure thing. That’s me, the goodly little student.

Kate gave a very unsubtle fist-pump. Way to go, V.

Her dirty blonde hair was mussed up into a little ponytail, and she sported her favorite local band t-shirt over some denims.

Since I could remember, she had been a friend. Granted, I barely paid attention to anyone who wasn’t a vampire, but Kate worked her way into my heart one weird conversation after another. Soon, it was a much-too-empty day when she wasn’t rambling off about cute guys from bands she found in obscure haunts around town.

But I couldn’t gather the enthusiasm to fist-pump back at my friend in victory. The shame and guilt of drooling over a new hot teacher when I had a super hot, super sweet boyfriend concerned about my well-being smothered out the joy and excitement of a bad boy fantasy.

How is that a punishment? Cici, the hottest girl in that class, complained to her group of equally attractive friends. He’s like, so hot.

Something you want to add, Cecilia?

No, sir, she replied, beaming a perfect smile. Just admiring your suit today.

Principal Ricardson loved Cici, and his red face was sure to say so a second later when he waved off her compliment like some sort of shy boy and not an over-fifty, twice-divorced man.

Gross.

The bell rang, and while most of the girls and sexually fluid boys, some who hadn’t the balls to say so, lingered to greet the new beast of a Biology teacher, I dragged my feet all the way to the front.

I heard someone call you V?

His smirk was beyond sexy. But his accent was something else entirely. German? Russian?

V is my preferred name. Some accent you got there, I remarked, internally cursing my thoughtlessness. German?

Something about the way his lips rose said repeat offender, and I would be the last to admit how