Boarding School Ch. 02

It was the middle of the night, so school was in session. The limo driver on the other side of the tinted partition remained patiently in his seat for instructions. I stared out at the massive building, not feeling at all gun-ho about being a student here.

"Your meeting with the Dean is scheduled in five minutes, Mistress." The deep rumble belonged to my bodyguard. My father always insisted on them, despite the power I wielded to fend for myself if any threat arose. This particular suite was named David. He had been an off-again, on-again guard throughout my life. He had over four hundred years on me and nearly 100lbs. All of it muscle. As most of our bodyguards, David kept his hair in a buzz cut, close to his head and unobtrusive. His green eyes were a shade darker than limes. He was a massive bulk of intimidation who liked to dip into my cookie jar once in a while.

I powered up the window, my eyes remaining on the scenery it blocked. "I know when the meeting is, David. I don't need any sort of commentary."

His gaze immediately dropped to the floor at our feet. "I apologize, Mistress. I forgot my place."

My gaze went to him. "Apologize correctly, David."

Without hesitation he slipped from his seat in front of me and went to his knees. I wore a long, thinner-than-gauze skirt that flowed down to my ankles and spanned straight out around me when I twirled. My soft-soled shoes were strappy like ballerina shoes and showed more foot than they covered. David lifted one of my feet to his lips and kissed the top of it. I crept my fingers in the skirt, lifting it up, exposing my legs and the junction between them. David's eyes darkened with hunger at the site of my lack of panties.

"Keep apologizing, David."

I heard the thickness of his swallow. "Yes, Mistress." He kissed my ankle then. Moved his lips up to kiss my shin, higher for my knee. He turned his head and kissed my other knee as I kept the first elevated, resting that foot on his shoulder. His lips brushed upward, kissing my thigh, moving to kiss my inner thigh. Then higher still. I watched his head disappear under that bunching of skirt and my body shuddered as his lips met my clit, his tongue raking across the bundle of nerves. Then his lips sealed over the nub in a sucking kiss and my hips jerked in reaction, breath coming heavier. His tongue flattened against my pussy and raked up the juices that were flowing out, coating the skin with moisture.

I looked at the watch on his wrist. Two minutes.

"That's enough grovelling, David. We have to go."

He moved back from me, his eyes glazed with hunger, face slack with arousal. And his pants were tented in the front.

"Pull yourself together, David. You look less than presentable."

"Yes, Mistress." He tugged at the collar of his shirt and suddenly his game face was on. His control was like a challenge, something that dared me to poke and prod and tease it until it broke, but that wasn't something advisable, not at this time. I was going into a mission under the persona of my public view. I was working a case where I had to be my Vampire self, which meant I had to be the princess of my people. And a princess doesn't go out in public with faulty security. Daddy would spank me if I didn't uphold my image.

Yet another incentive to break my bodyguard.

David gave two sharp raps on the partition and the driver exited the front. I watched as he came around the side and opened the door. David was the first to exit, as was standard. He searched thoroughly through every inch of yard and window and tree for any form of threat or suspicious activity. David was one of those guards who took his job very seriously, which was good on his part because my father's idea of a pink slip was about six inches of steak and a sun bath. Father was very strict when it came to my protection. Through his many centuries of existence, he has sired many sons, none of which have survived past four centuries. Though some believe that he still has sons out there, the truth was Father's last son expired not long ago, just a few years before his 400th birthday.

Not that I've past the 400 mark, not my a long shot—I am only 18. I am his only daughter, born to him by a female of power and worth. I am an unprecedented creation among our kind, one that he hopes will come into even greater power than that of his own and my mother's combined. I am also the only child of his that was born of the only female he had taken to bed out of more than just lust.

Which is the only reason why he dotes upon my "delusion" in being a Huntress. Once my "phase" was over with he could continue to cultivate me into the greatest leader and most powerful creature he was eager for me to become.

Finally deciding that the coast was clear, David turned back to me and stepped to the side, reaching out a hand for me. I put my hand in his and allowed him to help me out. It wasn't exactly necessary, but it was a formality, as was most everything Vampire Purebreeds did.

My skirt, with its black and red gauzy layers, swished around my legs as I stood. My black blouse had flowing sleeves that covered my hands and the blood red rubies at my throat were cool against my skin. My raven-black hair was down in its loose curls, flowing over my shoulders, making me look more like a dark gypsy than anything else. My eyes were the clearest blue and the stormiest gray and every shade in between, depending on my mood. Though when I was aroused my eyes took on a shade of green with the blue. And more often than not, the irises glowed. I've been told that my glowing eyes were one of the reasons why others of my kind were fearful of me—the glowing of the irises was a sign of immense inner power. In my opinion, that power was locked in my eyes because I have yet to surpass many of my distant relatives in the level of our energy. But I kept that opinion to myself. If my twin nightlights struck fear into those who serve me, I could live with that. And if that fear keeps them from uprising against me, and by extension, my father, they could live, too. I would like to say that despite my eighteen years of age, I was strong enough to take on any threat that reared it's ugly head and that I wasn't in any real need of a bodyguard. But truth be told, though half my blood is from the most powerful being Earthside, the other half limits me.

The front doors of the school were a deep, dark red with antique gold ornate handles and hinges. David opened one side for me, the limo driver, who I had not noticed was still with us, opened the other. I looked at the driver and noticed that he had once served as my guard before. It was something my father liked to do, hide guards within the basic services; cooks, maids, seamstresses. Limo drivers. Ever since I was a child and was attacked by a servant jealous for my father's attention, he has done what he could to always keep me safe. Though I believe it has more to do with the power he sought for me to wield than anything to do with me being his blooded daughter.

The inside of the school was dim, accustoming to its student's needs. Darkness has always been a part of our existence. Being beneath the holy light of the sun was a death sentence for a creature of Satan. And though the brightness of artificial light didn't engulf our bodies within the sun's sacred flames, it was rather uncomfortable, especially on the eyes. These halls, however, were empty in their darkness. Classes must have been in session.

Vampires are vain in nature and I love the attention we ascertain as I walk by my father's side. I love the whispers of jealousy from the other females, feed off the lust emitting from the males. But for the time being, I was glad there were no one in the halls to take note of my arrival. I was uncomfortable enough as it was having to enter within a school of my kind to betray one vampire in particular. If I was ever exposed in my mission, those who were loyal to me and my father would be questioning their princess. After all, when a Vampire SEMI was ever found out, the first action taken is to cut off their heads. Vampires do not allow betrayal of their own kind to Hunters.

The headmaster's office wasn't hard to find, and as David knocked firmly on the large cherry wood panel, I read the gold nameplate silently to myself: Headmaster James T. Cromwell. There was a short ruffling of papers and a clearing of a throat, who I suspected was James T. Cromwell's.

"Come in."

David opened the door for me, entering in at the side of the door as he pushed it flush against the wall, his back to it. I stepped in as he closed it behind us, David taking up sentry duty at it.

"Welcome, Princess Tepes!" The man at the desk stood and came around to me, dropping to his knees and taking my right hand in his. His lips brushed the ruby ring there, our family crest detailed beautifully on the sides.

I allowed my lips to lift coolly at the sides. "A humble greeting. Very good manners, Mr. Cromwell." He smiled up at me. "Now get to your feet."

He gave a bow and did as he was told, formality done with. "Now. We've been expecting you. Come, please. Have a seat."

We? I thought. I took a step forward, toward the two plush high-backs that were in front of the headmaster's massive desk, and the third presence became clear.

As the man stood, his waist-length black hair flowing heavy behind him like a thick curtain, I bowed my head, dropping into a curtsy that was low and nearly painful. He towered over me in his six-foot-eight-inch height, his piercing black gaze both frightening and beautiful. His mere presence was overwhelming, the power He radiated as He focused on you something that could flay the flesh from your bones.

My body was already needy from David's previous apology. Now it was achy, yearning for the release only His power could give me, only His touch could bring. No one could come close to this, no other's touch could bring the pleasure only my Master could wrought—

I blinked. My breath came faster for me as I understood where the words were coming from. This was one of many of his talents. With a simple gaze, the slightest curve of his lips, he could fill a being with the need to worship him. He could make someone give up everything they had, everything they were for just the pleasure of his gaze, maybe the lightest brush of his fingertips. He's had royalty and nobility bow before him with just that touch of his eyes. He's had the proudest of men drop to their hands and knees and grovel before him. All because of that aura of his.

Swallowing hard, I forced my body to calm as I raised my eyes to his. The quirk of his lips was the only indication that he was proud—or maybe just amused—by my force of will. Either way my eyes met his from beneath my lashes as I curtsied to him. And with the utmost respect and reverence, I greeted him.

"Hello, Father."