White Hot Kiss (9 page)

“Hey there,” he murmured to Stacey.

“Hi.” Her elbows slid across the desk.

Then he turned those golden eyes on me. “Good morning.”

“My day is made,” Stacey whispered, grinning at Roth as he dropped his book and sat.

“Good for you,” I snapped, digging another pen out of my bag.

Mrs. Cleo flipped off the lights. “I haven’t graded the tests yet, since some of you will be making up those tests on Friday. Expect your grades and any extra-credit assignments to be handed out on Monday.”

Several students groaned while I pictured stabbing my pen into the back of Roth’s head.

What had I planned last night? Not a damn thing, because I fell asleep while plotting on the observation deck.

About ten minutes into Mrs. Cleo’s dry lecture about cell respiration, Stacey stopped bouncing in her seat. I still hadn’t taken my eyes off Roth. He didn’t even bother pretending to take notes. At least I held a pen in my hand.

He tipped his chair back until it rested against our table, planting his elbows on my textbook to support his precarious position. Once again, I smelled something sweet, like sugary wine or dark chocolate.

I considered moving his arms, but that would require me to touch him. I could poke him in the arm with my pen—hard. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing really nice arms. Smooth skin stretched over well-defined biceps. And there was Bambi, curling around his arm. I leaned forward, somewhat fascinated by the detail. Each ripple in the snake’s skin had been shaded so that it actually looked three dimensional. The underbelly was gray and soft-looking, but I doubted Roth’s skin would be very soft. It looked as hard as Warden skin.

The tattoo looked so real.

Because it is real, you idiot.

Just then, the tail twitched and slid over his elbow.

Gasping, I jerked back in my seat. Stacey shot me a weird look.

Roth turned his head. “What are you doing back there?”

My eyes narrowed on him.

“Are you staring at me?”

“No!” I whispered, lying through my teeth.

He eased the chair down, sparing Mrs. Cleo a brief glance before turning sideways in his seat. “I think you are.”

Stacey leaned over, grinning. “She was.”

I shot her a hateful look. “I was not.”

Roth eyed Stacey with renewed interest. “She was? And what was she staring at?”

“I really don’t know,” Stacey whispered back. “I was too busy staring at your face to notice.”

A pleased grin appeared. “Stacey, right?”

She leaned into me. “That’s me.”

I pushed her back to her side, rolling my eyes. “Turn around,” I ordered.

His eyes met mine. “I will when you tell me what you were staring at.”

“Not at you.” I glanced at the front of the room. Mrs. Cleo flipped over her notes. “Turn around before you get us in trouble.”

Roth dipped his head. “Oh, you’d love the kind of trouble I’d get you in.”

Stacey sighed—or moaned. “I bet we would.”

I clenched the pen. “No. We. Would. Not.”

“Speak for yourself, sister.” Stacey popped the edge of her pen in her mouth.

He smirked at Stacey. “I like your friend.”

The pen cracked in my hand. “Well, I don’t like you.”

Roth chuckled as he finally turned back around. The rest of the class went like that. Every so often he’d look back at us and grin or whisper something entirely infuriating. When Mrs. Cleo finally turned the overhead lights on, I was ready to scream.

Stacey only blinked, looking like she was coming out of some kind of bizarre trance. I scribbled
hobag
across her notes. She laughed and wrote
virgin ice princess
across mine.

When the bell rang, I already had my stuff packed, ready to make a clean exit. I needed air—preferably air that Roth wasn’t sharing. Surprisingly enough, he was already out the door by the time I stood, walking so fast he appeared to be on some sort of mission. Maybe Hell had called him back home? I could only hope.

“What is your problem?” asked Stacey.

I brushed past her, scooping long strands of hair out from underneath my bag’s strap. “What? I have a problem because I’m not in heat?”

She made a face. “Well, that just sounds gross.”

“You’re gross,” I threw over my shoulder.

Stacey caught up with me. “Honestly, you have to explain to me what your problem is with him. I don’t get it. Did he ask you to be his baby mama?”

“What?” I made a face. “I already told you. He’s just bad news.”

“My favorite kind of news,” she said as we filed out of the door, “is bad-news boys.”

I gripped my bag tighter as a sea of pink and blue souls filled the hallway. A banner hung down, interrupting the flow of the pastel rainbow. “Since when did you start liking bad boys? All your past boyfriends qualified for sainthood.”

“Since yesterday,” she quipped.

“Well, that’s really...” I stopped by the row of lockers, wrinkling my nose. “Do you smell that?”

Stacey sniffed the air, then immediately groaned. “God, it smells like raw sewage. Probably the damn bathroom’s backed up.”

Other students were starting to pick up on the scent of rotten eggs and soured meat. There were giggles, a few gags. Apprehension stirred in my chest. The smell was foul—too foul—and I couldn’t believe it was only now that I was smelling it.

I was going to blame Roth for that, too.

“You’d think they’d cancel classes with a smell like that.” Stacey started to tug her shirt up as a shield, but must’ve realized there wasn’t enough material there. She clamped her hand over her mouth, muffling her voice. “This cannot be safe.”

A teacher stood outside his class, waving his hand in front of his face. My eyes burned as I turned away from him, trailing behind Stacey. In the stairwell, the smell was stronger.

Stacey glanced at me on the landing. “See you at lunch?”

“Yeah,” I replied, stepping out of the way of several taller and bigger seniors. I looked like a freshman standing in their way.

She tugged on the hem of her skirt again with her free hand. “Hopefully the smell is gone by then. If not, I’m starting a protest.”

Before I could respond, she was bounding up the stairs. I headed down the steps to the first floor, trying not to gag.

“What the Hell is that smell?” asked a petite girl with a lilac-colored soul. Her hair was blond and pixie short.

“I don’t know,” I murmured absently. “Our lunch?”

The girl laughed. “Wouldn’t surprise me.” Then she frowned, squinting at me. “Hey. Aren’t you the girl who lives with the Wardens?”

I sighed, wishing the mass of bodies on the steps in front of me would move faster. “Yes.”

Her brown eyes widened. “Eva Hasher said you and the old black dude who’s always picking you up from school are their human servants.”

My mouth dropped open. “What?”

She nodded vigorously. “That’s what Eva told me in history class.”

“I’m not a servant and neither is Morris,” I exclaimed. “I’m adopted. And Morris is part of the family. Big difference.”

“Whatever,” she said, pushing around me.

A servant? As if. A darker pink soul with stripes of red crept into my vision—Gareth Richmond. The boy who
maybe
stared at my butt.

“This place reeks.” He held his notebook over his mouth. “You know the gym is going to smell even worse. Think they’ll cancel class, Layla?”

Huh, he
did
know my name.

He lowered his notebook, revealing a megawatt smile. The kind I imagined he used on many girls. “They can’t expect us to run laps breathing this crap. You’re a pretty good runner, by the way. Why didn’t you ever go out for track or something?”

“You...watch me run in class?” I wanted to smack myself after saying that. It sounded like I’d accused him of being a creeper. “I mean, I didn’t know you paid attention. Not that you’d pay attention. I just didn’t know you knew I could run.”

He glanced down the stairs, laughing.

I needed to shut up.

“Yeah, I’ve seen you run.” Gareth caught the door before it smacked into us, holding it open. “I’ve seen you walk, too.”

I couldn’t tell if he was teasing or flirting. Or if he just thought I was an idiot. Honestly, I didn’t care because all I could think of was Stacey suggesting I hook up with Gareth to start a war with Eva. Talk about awkward thoughts.

“So what are you doing after school?” he asked, falling into step beside me.

Tagging demons. “Um...I’ve got some errands I have to take care of.”

“Oh.” He tapped his notebook off his thigh. “I’ve got football practice after class. I’ve never seen you at any of the games.”

I looked at the empty trophy case by the double doors leading to the gym. “Football isn’t really my thing.”

“That’s a bust. I always throw a party at my parents’ house after the games. You’d know that if—”

Someone tall, wearing all black, materialized between us. “She’d know that if she cared, but I doubt she does.”

I stepped back quickly, startled by Roth’s sudden reappearance.

Gareth had the same response. He was a tall boy, big and brawny, but Roth exuded a kick-ass air. The human boy clamped his mouth shut. Without another word, he inched around us and hurried into the gym, the doors swinging shut behind him. I stood there, dumbfounded as the first warning bell rang. It sounded far away.

“Was it something I said?” Roth mused. “I was just pointing out the obvious.”

Slowly, I lifted my head and looked at him.

“What?” He grinned impishly. “Come on. You don’t look like the type of girl who watches football, hangs out with the cool crowd and ends up deflowered by the senior jock in the back of his daddy’s Beamer.”

“Deflowered?”

“Yeah, you know. Losing that pesky thing called virginity.”

Fire swept over my skin. I pivoted around, heading toward the gym doors. Wasn’t like I didn’t know what
deflowered
meant. I just couldn’t believe he’d actually used that word in the twenty-first century.

Or that I was even having a conversation about virginity with him.

Roth caught my arm. “Hey. That’s a compliment. Trust me. He’s on the fast track to Hell anyway. Just like his daddy.”

“Good to know,” I managed to respond coolly, “but would you please let go of my arm? I have to get to class.”

“I’ve got a better idea.” Roth leaned in. Dark locks of hair fell into those golden eyes. “You and I are going to have some fun.”

My teeth hurt from how hard I was grinding them. “Not in this lifetime, buddy.”

He looked offended. “What do you think I’m suggesting? I wasn’t planning on getting you drunk and having my way with you in the back of a Beamer like Gareth is. Then again, I guess it could be worse. He could be planning it in the back of a Kia.”

I blinked. “What?”

Roth shrugged, dropping my arm. “Some girl named Eva has him convinced that you put out after one beer.”

“What?”
My voice was as shrill as the ringing tardy bell.

“I personally don’t believe it,” he went on blithely, “and I have a Porsche. Not as much leg room as a Beamer, but so much hotter, I’m told.”

Porsches were hot, but that wasn’t the point. “That bitch told him I put out after one beer?”

“Meow.” Roth clawed the air, which looked as ridiculous as it sounded. “Anyway, this is not the fun I had in mind.”

I was still stuck on the whole “putting out” thing. “She told another girl I was a freaking servant. I guess I’m a servant who puts out. Oh! And I guess I’m a lightweight, too. I’m gonna kill—”

Roth snapped his fingers in my face. “Focus. Forget about Eva and one-minute boy. We have something we need to do.”

“Don’t snap your fingers at me,” I snarled. “I’m not a dog.”

“No.” He smiled a little. “You’re a half demon who lives with a bunch of stone freaks that kill demons.”

“You’re the freak, and I’m late for class.” I started to turn from him, but remembered last night. “Oh. And keep your stupid snake on a leash.”

“Bambi comes and goes as she pleases. I can’t help it if she likes hanging out in your tree house.”

My hands curled into fists. “Don’t come near my house again. The Wardens will kill you.”

Roth tipped his head back, laughing deeply. It was a nice laugh, dark and throaty—which made it all the more infuriating. “Oh, there’d be killing, but I wouldn’t be the one doing the dying.”

I swallowed. “Are you threatening my family?”

“No.” He caught my hand this time, easing my fingers out of their fist and then twining them through his own. “Anyway, you can’t tell me you haven’t smelled the funk that is this high school right now.”

Clamping my mouth shut, I glared at him. “What? It’s just the sewer or...”

He looked at me like I was about three different kinds of stupid, and my initial suspicions concerning the smell resurfaced. “It can’t be...”

“Oh, it is. There’s a zombie in the school.” A brow arched. “Sounds like the start of a really bad horror movie.”

I ignored the last statement. “That can’t be it. How would one get in here without being seen?”

Roth shrugged. “Who knows? Anything is possible these days. My demon spidey senses are telling me it’s in one of the boiler rooms downstairs. And since your Warden friends are probably sleeping, I figured we’d check it out before it makes its way upstairs and starts eating students.”

I dug in my heels as he started forward. “I’m not checking anything out with you.”

“But there’s a zombie in the school,” he said slowly, “and it’s probably hungry.”

“And yeah, I know this, but you and I aren’t doing anything.”

His smile faded. “Aren’t you at all curious why a zombie would be in
your
school and what people are going to think when they see something straight from
Night of the Living Dead?
”

I met his stare. “It’s not my problem.”

“It’s not.” Roth tipped his head to the side, eyes narrowed. “But it will be the Warden leader’s problem when it stumbles upstairs and starts oozing bodily fluids all over everyone while it chomps on body parts. You know how those Alphas expect the Wardens to keep the whole demon thing out of the public eye.”