Blood Hunter (The Grandor Descendant Series) (14 page)

“Wants some company; I was just leaving when I saw you here.”

Ari nodded and the pair walked together back to Omega Halls, chatting animatedly about the work load that Ari had to look forward to. Halfway through their journey, a girl who had been part of a large group walking towards the club began walking purposefully, albeit slightly wonky, towards Chris.

“Where are you going? It’s still early. I was going to make you dance with me!” the girl said, her lower lip pouting in an overtly annoying fashion.

Ari looked at her distastefully. She was wearing a very short green dress and judging by the way that she had sauntered over to them, obviously did not suffer from a shred of modesty. She had large brown eyes and shoulder length dark hair with a thick fringe; her makeup was excessive, even to rival that of Sandra’s, making Ari certain that she must be one of the popular girls.

“Sorry Lisa,” said Chris, reaching down so as to rub his foot. “I twisted my ankle today running into Ari here in the hallway. She’s in our year; just transferred from Australia.”

“Hey,” Ari said.

Lisa ignored Ari entirely. Instead her eyes roamed up and down Chris’s body, almost as if she were undressing him with her eyes.

“Well if you decide to come back to the bar I’ll be waiting,” she said, batting her heavily mascaraed eyelashes at Chris.

After that she swaggered away, hiccupping loudly as she moved back to the large group of girls she had been walking with. Ari watched as Lisa moved expertly in her high heels, wondering how, in her drunken state, she managed to navigate the pot holes and remain upright, with her pin point heels digging into the dense grass.

“Friend of yours?” asked Ari, raising her eyebrows.

“Yea, just a friend, she’s pushy but not really that bad; she lives in Delta halls with a heap of the other girls in our year. We’re actually in the same prac group together. Though I have to admit I’m grateful you knocked me off my feet this afternoon, or I might have been forced to put in a performance on the dance floor.”

“Hmm, I guess you owe me one!” Ari said smiling. 

“So, which prac group are you in for principles of disease?”

At these words Ari’s face fell. Not only did she not know which prac group she was in, but she had not seen her timetable, had not signed up for any prac classes, and didn’t even own a laptop in order to do any of these things before her first class tomorrow.

“I, err, literally just arrived today; I haven’t organised anything,” she admitted.

“So you went out drinking instead of organising your timetable?” Chris said in a mock angry voice, before he broke into laughter, “My kind of girl!”

Despite feeling disappointed, Ari smiled too. There was something about the way that Chris acted around her, so casual and straightforward; it was entirely impossible for her not feel at ease in his company. In fact, until they walked past Cruor Halls, Ari had entirely forgotten about her fight with Ragon and that Sandra had killed someone. Now as they passed the ancient building, with its large grey columns and crumbling stone work, this knowledge swarmed in her mind, and she reached up instinctively to touch her head, wincing loudly.

“Ouch,” she said, quickly pulling her hand away and seeing bright red blood smeared across it, relic of the bathroom door swinging and hitting her in the head.

“What the hell?” Chris said, his smile faltering as he turned to Ari, his eyes transfixed on the blood staining her fingertips. “What happened to you? When I said you were in the wars…”

Chris didn’t hesitate but quickly removed his button up grey shirt and began wrapping it around her hand like a bandage. Ari watched the spectacle in surprise, trying hard not to stare at his body, though her eyes immediately focused on the large tattoos winding up his left arm.

“No, it’s alright. It’s my head; I um… bumped it tonight.”

“Jesus,” Chris said, reaching up to brush the hair out of her face, just as Ari’s heart faltered. “So you have a cut on your forehead and a
bump
on the back of your head; what do you do for fun… wrestle kangaroos?”

“I was wondering when the Australian wildlife jokes would start. We tend to prefer crocodiles as wresting companions though, that or a really big emu.”

“Sorry,” said Chris, “I couldn’t help myself. Just hold this against your head at least until we get inside,” he added, gently pressing his shirt against the back of her head.

After that they moved quickly to Omega halls. Ari and Chris were on the same floor, though Ari’s room was closest to the stairway. When the light from an open dorm room flooded the hallway, she was reminded that Chris was shirtless. From behind she noticed another small intricate tattoo in the centre of his back, near where his shoulder blades met. This tattoo was quite unlike the other ones that wrapped around his left arm. It was colourless and ritualistic, almost as if it signified that he belonged to a tribe; it was a small black ring, inside which there appeared to be the head of an animal. She had been so focused on it that she walked straight past her room.

“Sorry,” she said, blushing when she almost ran into Chris for the second time that day. “Guess I am still getting use to this place. I think I need a map.”

Chris smiled and reached for the handle, pushing her door open.      

“What the hell?” she said, looking around her room in confusion.

The moment Chris had opened her door, many tiny white balls, the size of pearls, flew at her face. She watched as the floating globes swirled around her as she stepped into her room. Her first thought was that the three laughing boys from earlier, Peter, Pip and Perry, had been right, and there had been a snow storm. But it wasn’t snowing out and her window was closed.

“I think you have fallen victim of a prank,” said Chris, still laughing as he moved further into her room.

“You think,” she said, trying hard not to swallow any of the weightless balls, which Ari had realised were Styrofoam, similar in size and shape to what you would find filling a bean bag. “Who would do this?”  

Chris did not respond at first. Through the hovering plastic, Ari saw him standing near her bed, reaching for a switch that apparently controlled the fan. He switched it off and instantly the Styrofoam balls became lifeless and fell to the carpet in surrender. Only a few white balls remained in the air, though they were quickly attracted to Chris’s torso. They seemed to hover around his skin, as though magnetised by static electricity.

With her eyes locked on him, Chris moved towards her and stretched out a hand as though reaching for her face. Slowly she took two steps backwards, until she was pressed up against the door. Chris was only inches away, so close that she could feel his breath on her face; then he suddenly pulled away from her, a bright yellow post-it note clasped in his hands.

“This was pinned to the door,” he said, recalling Ari back to reality as he showed her the note, before reading it out loud, “
Welcome to the IOM, thought this might help you acclimatise, Regards PPP.
”

“Hmmm, funny,” Ari said without laughing; somehow she didn’t think thousands of tiny Styrofoam balls would help her get use to the freezing weather on the Isle of Man. “Whose PPP?”

“Perry, Peter and Pip.”

“Oh yea, those three chipmunks introduced themselves earlier,” she said. “They warned me about blizzards.”

“They’re kind of like the hall jokesters; consider this a welcoming gift. Want a hand getting rid of all this stuff?”

“Thanks,” she replied, reaching for an empty garbage bag from her suitcase and beginning to hurl large piles of the fake snow into the bag.

“Can you grab the corner of the quilt?” Chris asked, moving to one side of the bed. 

In one motion they lifted all the balls off the bed and dumped them into the rubbish bag. At the same time, there was a loud slam, causing the remaining balls to spring up from the ground and dance in front of the door momentarily. Ari spun around, waiting for the Styrofoam to settle and then blinked in surprise. Staring back at her was Ragon. His eyes moved quickly to Chris, who was still without a shirt and leaning over her bed holding the quilt. Ragon did not look at her but narrowed his eyes, his lip curling up at the sides.

“Err, hey… its Ragon right?” Chris said, dropping the quilt awkwardly.

Ragon didn’t respond; without pausing he blurred over to Chris and grasped his outstretched hand, pulling it up to his mouth, where two enormous canines were waiting. Ari had no time to react; before she knew what was happening Ragon was biting down hard into Chris’s wrists. Instantly Ari rushed to the pair, trying uselessly to pull Ragon away.

“Stop,” she screamed.

For a moment she thought that Chris might fight back. There was a wild untamed look about him, and his normally light blue eyes seemed to darked, but then he seemed to submit.

“You won’t remember any of this; you will think a spider bit you on your walk home
,” said Ragon, lulling Chris just as he had Natalie.

“Nice,” said Ari, shoving Ragon hard in the chest. “What did you do that for? What the hell is wrong with you?”

Ragon looked up at her helplessly, like a dog that had been struck and then swept quickly from the room, just as hundreds of tiny white balls rose up from the floor as he blurred away. When the door slammed shut behind him, the Styrofoam globes seemed to shudder in the air, then fell, finally resting on the ground to form a white blanket across the cream carpet.

Ari shook her head in anger until she remembered Chris and raced to his side. Her eyes darted to the two puncture marks on his wrist. It wasn’t fair the way Ragon had acted, but there was nothing she could do now. Sadly she moved over to the door, holding Chris’s shirt out for him as she gestured for him to leave. She knew Chris wouldn’t remember what had happened and thought the best thing would be for him to leave.

“Don’t worry,” she said, “I can manage the rest of them.”

“But we haven’t finished?” said Chris, waving his hand at the rest of the Styrofoam balls in confusion, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened in the last few minutes.

“It’s ok.”

Chris shrugged, moved over to the door and said, “Well, I will see you tomorrow for first period; it’s at 9am at the main lecture theatre in the vet school.”

“Yep.”

 “Oh, and make sure you put some antiseptic on that bump on your head,” he added.  

Ari nodded dumbly, purposefully avoiding making eye contact, less her guilt become obvious. There was Chris, telling her not to let her cut get infected while his own wrists were dripping blood. But she didn’t dare mention the puncture marks. She knew that Ragon’s lull would force Chris to see the bite soon and think that a spider had attacked him.

“Um, Ari,” Chris added, pausing in the doorway, “I know that its none of my business, but that guy you were with tonight at the bar, is he… I mean are you two…”

Chris’s voice trailed off and Ari blushed.

“Ragon, yea he’s my boyfriend.”

“Just be careful around him,” he said, sighing loudly before closing the door behind him.

Ari watched Chris go with mingled emotions. Why would Chris warn her about Ragon? Ragon had lulled him; there was no way that Chris could have any memory about being attacked. Perhaps he thought that her injuries had been caused by Ragon? Maybe he thought she was in an abusive relationship?     

Turning back around to face her room, Ari sighed. Nothing about what had happened tonight was right; Ragon attacking Chris, Sandra killing Greg, Chris warning her about Ragon; it was as if someone was playing a joke on her. She looked around her room mournfully, her eyes raking the massive piles of Styrofoam, until she realised that there was something very different about the décor of her room. Before she’d left for the dance, her room had been relatively empty. She had bought only one suitcase over from Australia and it contained mostly clothes and toiletries.

But now she realised that the furniture had changed; how had she not noticed it before? For one thing, there was a different desk. Before there had been a small yellow painted desk, while now there was an antique mahogany one in its place. She traced a single finger along the smooth polished surface, displacing many white Styrofoam balls as she did so. On top of the new desk were three boxes. Intrigued, Ari sat down in the lush black leather arm chair, another new addition, pulling the first box towards her.