The next day, the school shut down at the discovery of a dead body in a classroom. Drained of blood. But the only difference was that this time, Roman knew what happened. And it killed him to not provide justice to an innocent boy.
A week passed like that, with the school shut down and he closed off from other people. The only living thing he interacted with was Slizzle and the poor thing had no idea, why her daddy was so depressed. He told her everything that happened that day, but she had no idea about what he was speaking.
All she understood was that daddy was giving more milk and food to her while he was having lesser.
When he was finally supposed to show up at school, Roman decided to ask all the questions he wanted to be answered by Evette after class, and hoped that his body wouldn’t be the next one, found drained of blood.
Reaching the hallway, he found Jacob’s picture framed beside the lockers, with candles and flowers kept to pay respects. He couldn’t look over at the smiling boy’s picture. Because the last time he saw him, there wasn’t a smile on his face. The terror of being killed was spread across his face with his skin pale and eyes lifeless.
“His parents haven’t seen his body yet.” One of the students told.
Another scoffed. “They’re probably busy, snorting in drugs. Assholes. I hate them!”
Jacob’s parents were drug addicts?
“Hey,” Roman called out to the students. “What were you saying about his parents, again?”
“His parents are addicts, Mr. Berkshire. They never took care of him. He was the way he was mainly because of them.” The boy said. “There was a time when Jacob was depressed. And after some treatment, he recovered but then got into some... bad activities.”
“A little bit of drinking and sex. A lot of sex.”
“So you’re telling me that, Jacob wasn’t exactly raised properly,” said Roman.
“He wasn’t raised at all. All his parents did was give birth to him. As a baby, his grandparents raised him but when he was around ten or eleven, they died. Since then, Jacob was always alone.”
Guilt began consuming Roman. The least he could do for Jacob’s soul to rest in peace was to provide him justice. What was the point of living if it meant to carry such guilt forever?
Anger surged through him when he saw Evette in class, as usual, head buried in a book, as though nothing had happened. Throughout the class, he couldn’t stop looking over at the pale, amber-eyed beauty, whose captivating ambers were deep red at the last time he saw her. She was silent, innocently taking down the notes he taught, and minding her own business.
But every time his eyes fell on her, he had a chill of fear along with the rage, rip through his skin. When the rest of the class was focused on writing, Evette could sense his eyes on her and she smirked, feeling great at the effect she was having on him.
“Mr. Berkshire?” called an irritating high pitched voice, and Roman turned to see Lucy. “I have a doubt.”
“Are you single?” she asked, and snorts erupted in the class. To his astonishment, he saw Evette muffling her laughs as well although Lucy’s question really irritated him.
He cringed at the audacity of the girl making a move on her teacher.
Ignoring her question, he continued with the class but suddenly the bell rang, signaling that it was time to end his lesson. The students began shuffling out of the class, and Roman’s eyes were fixed on Evette, who took her time in packing her bag before getting out of the class.
To not raise suspicion, Roman pretended to mind his business, but when Evette was about to exit his class, he decided to speak.
“Miss Bellerose?” he called out.
“Yes?” her soft yet, powerful voice echoed.
“Stay for a while longer. I have to ask you something.”
Evette knew exactly what was coming. She smirked, seeing the dread evident in his blue orbs. Looking around to make sure that no one was looking, she then hissed, giving him a wonderful view of her fangs.
Once everyone was out, she slowly closed the door, trapping both of them inside. Just like she wanted, Roman’s heart began beating faster. She took slow seductive steps toward him, as he began moving backward. His bottom hit the edge of his table and he was forced to stop, as Evette huffed in delight. When she finally reached him, she leaned in, placing both her hands on the table, either side of Roman’s body.
She really found pleasure in seeing him helpless.
“Don’t you have class, Mr. Berkshire?” she asks.
Roman’s throat moved with a frightful gulp. “I-I have a free period,” he replied, stuttering.
“Well then,” she sighed, “What did you want to talk about?”
At that moment, all the questions that he had mentally written down disappeared from his mind. He found himself struggling to speak, while Evette observed him, trying to find words.
Her face studied every minute detail that was on his face. The little, barely noticeable scar on his right eyelid, to each of the thick little hairs that protruded from the skin on his jaw to assemble the little beard he had, for namesake.
Roman was beautiful. And Evette had no trouble admitting that to herself. He wasn’t just handsome, hot, or sexy. He was beautiful. And that was a term that she only described a very specific set of people.
Besides wanting to drink his blood, there was something else that she wanted to do. Embrace his beauty. He was one of a kind. And his beauty did deserve to be embraced. She had the power to make him feel like the God of Charm. But that could wait. It will wait. It will wait a very long time.
The coolness of her body that he felt at this proximity, reminded him of when she literally sat on his lap the last time they talked. Evette buried her face into his neck, inhaling his delicious scent as Roman shuddered beneath her.
"Dieu, tu sens si bon!” she moaned, as she rubbed her ice-cold nose against his warm neck. Her fangs grazed his flesh and Roman sucked in a sharp breath when he thought that they had torn his skin.
“What?” he quacked out, not having understood what she said earlier.
“You smell delicious, mon cher!”
“Why are you speaking French?” he popped his first question.
“Because I am French,” she answered. “You sure should have a lot of questions, how about you sit down, Mr. Berkshire?”
She took off her hands, freeing him, and directed him to her chair, where he slowly placed himself. Evette hoped on his desk, right in front of him, happily dangling her pale legs.
“Shoot!” she ordered.
Roman inhaled. “Why didn’t you kill me that night?”
“Would you rather be dead?” she chuckled. “I could do it right now. Bet your blood tastes better than the others!”
“Then why did you kill that boy?”
“Firstly, I was thirsty and secondly, he did threaten to assault me,” she answered. “So I thought, why not drain him for the day?”
The casualty with which she talked amazed him. After all, she was talking about killing a person. How could someone be so casual about murder?
“He was a person. He had a life!” Roman argued.
“Don’t you eat when you’re hungry? Chicken? Rice? Turkey?” she asked.
“But that’s food!”
“I don’t see a difference. I have to quench my thirst when I am thirsty, don’t you think?” she asked and he gaped at her.
“Why don’t you feed on animals?” he asked.
Evette jumped off the table, chuckling. “Why would I hurt those poor things when worthless humans that hurt them taste better to me?”
“I see humans just the way you see chicken!”
Roman took a second to process that. Humans and chicken. Feeding on both made a huge difference.
What happened to vampires like Edward Cullen who stayed away from humans? He thought, confused as to how much popular culture had contradicted reality.
He looked up at her. “How are you walking in daylight?”
“I drink a potion,” she replied.
Maybe daylight rings weren’t a thing and vampires didn’t sparkle under the sun.
“Umm....how old areyou?” he asked, unsure.
Evette smirked. “How ungentlemanly of you to ask a woman her age, Mr. Berkshire?”
“I-I just.....you guys live a long time don’t you?” he asked.
“I’m two hundred and seventy-six years old!” she answered and Roman’s eyes widened hilariously.
He repeated the number, unable to believe that the girl in front of him was over two hundred years old.
“Let me guess, you were turned at seventeen?” he asked and she nodded.
Roman bombarded Evette with questions, all of which she answered but as time passed, he also started getting more comfortable with the vampiress. He was afraid and always alert about when she would be pouncing on him, but that never came.
He learned that she was born in France, circa 1746. Apparently, vampires exist but most of them are situated in Europe, Western Asia, Northern Africa, and some in the Amazon too. And she is the only vampire here in New York.
She had completed numerous degrees, the highest medical ones, one in fashion designing, one in music, and has even acquired a Ph.D. in criminology. When asked about why she was here in a high school, she replied that for the past decade, she wanted to do something simpler.
But he didn’t dare ask her about why she kept murdering people. They were humans. She was a human once too. Why didn’t she feel any remorse?
“Tell me about yourself, Mr. Berkshire.”
What was there about him when this double century-old vampiress with education degrees that couldn’t acquire even if he spent a lifetime trying, was standing in front of him? After all, he has only had twenty-four years of life. This woman in front of him was ancient.
She has seen how the world grew, the wars and revolutions, and even the changes in climate for that matter.
How can he be any interesting to her?
“I’m twenty-four.” he began but then scowled when Evette snorted.
“Still a child,” she commented.
If it were someone else, he would have argued with them, but even Roman couldn’t deny the fact that compared to her, he indeed was a child. Nothing more than a little boy. A small, little baby, that she taunted and enjoyed.
“I live here in Brooklyn, and I’m a teacher. And I have a cat named Slizzle,” he concluded.
That was Roman.
Nothing too posh, nothing overboard, just minding his own business and living. And the last thing he expected in life was this exact situation he was in.
“You know, I feel awkward teaching you,” he admitted.
“As you should.” She spat. “Now, carry on with the class, and don’t bother me unless you want your head ripped off!”
With that, Evette sprinted out of the class leaving Roman dazed as ever.