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  • Home > Mari Mancusi > Blood Coven Series > Night School (Page 5)     
  • Night School(Blood Coven Vampire,book 5)(5) by Mari Mancusi
  • The window shatters before anyone can answer me. Though to be fair, it was kind of a rhetorical question anyway. I duck, hands over my head, to avoid the raining shards of glass, as six tall winged men float into my stepfamily’s living room, sinking down into the plush white carpet. Each, I might add, armed with flaming swords, unlike any I’ve seen outside an RPG video game.

    The fairies have landed.

    And just FYI, if you’re thinking “fairy” means the kind of lithe, lispy, glittery creature you might find at a David Bowie tribute night, let me set you straight: These guys are built to the max. Broad shoulders, expansive chests, six-pack abs, and muscular legs. At the same time, each one of them is oddly ... pretty, I’d guess you’d say ... with chiseled cheekbones, wide eyes with long lashes, and blindingly white teeth. Like Disney animated princes sporting wings.

    Delicious but deadly.

    A black-haired fairy—the spitting image of Cinderella’s Prince Charming, though a lot more pissed off—steps forward, his flashing dark eyes bearing down on my mother.

    Mom stands her ground, shoulders back, a fierce mama-bear expression taking hold of her usually serene, hippie-chick face. A trill of pride spins down my spine as I watch her stare the big, bad invaders down, ready to protect her cubs at all costs.

    Yeah, take that, fairy man. My mom’s no shrinking violet.

    “Princess Shrinking Violet?” the fairy addresses her.

    Uh ... Well, you know what I mean.

    “Sir Apple Blossom?” Mom replies, through clenched teeth.

    My eyes widen. This is the hottie Mom was supposed to marry back in the day? And she chose Dad over him? I mean, sure, I’m glad she did, seeing as we’d never have been born otherwise, but damn ...

    Apple Blossom continues, “We have come for the girls.”

    I hear a squeak of fear to my left and turn to find a white-faced Sunny hunched up beside me, literally shaking with fright. I grab her by the arm, pulling her close to me.

    No one steals my Sunshine. At least not without getting through me first.

    Or my dad, it seems, for that matter. We watch as our father steps protectively in front of us. “I am their father,” he says in a voice that leaves no room for argument. “And you will take them only over my dead body.”

    Wow. For a guy who never remembers to send a birthday card, Dad can really turn up the parental protection vibe to eleven when he feels like it. I glance over at Sunny, who’s staring at our father like she’s never seen him before.

    “Over your dead body?” Apple Crisp smirks. “I think that can be arranged!”

    On cue, his friends unsheathe their flaming swords. Seriously, how is the sprinkler system not going off at this point? If we survive all this, I’m so complaining to building management ...

    “Violet—catch!” Seemingly out of nowhere, my dad somehow manages to produce a pair of swords of his own (though sadly, neither one appears to be on fire) and throws one to my mother, while wielding the other himself. Hippie, dippy Mom—who is always lambasting Mario Brothers as too violent a video game—catches the blade with ease, like she’s freaking Lara Croft or something. Behind her stands Heather, who has also somehow managed to commandeer a sharp-looking sword. Where do they get these wonderful toys?

    “Sunny! Rayne! Run!” Mom cries, without turning around.

    What?! I can’t run. After all, I’m a slayer. Not to mention a vampire. And I guess, if you want to be technical, a fairy to boot. There’s no way I’m bowing out of this fight.

    I consider searching the evidently well-stocked luxury condo/ armory for another secret sword, but then get a better idea. As Mom, Dad, and Heather engage the fairies, I dive across the room to my purse. Digging in, I toss away Caesar’s Palace poker chips, orange gum, and a really cool Living Dead Doll I found at a small Goth shop way off the Strip, looking for the pièce de résistance.

    My stake.

    My fingers wrap around the smooth wood, just as Apple Pie and Ice Cream manages to plow through Heather and lunges at me. I whirl around, stabbing with all my might, stake straight to the chest.

    Okay. Good news and bad news.

    BAD NEWS: Fairies don’t “poof” into an easy-to-sweep-up pile of ashes when pierced through the heart by a wooden stake like vampires do.
    GOOD NEWS: With enough force, wooden stake to the heart = hurts like hell, even without the whole handy-dandy poofing side benefit.
    The fairy bellows in a mixture of rage and pain, clutching his heart as he falls to the ground, blood gushing from his chest. After a moment of convulsing, his eyes roll up into his head and he lies still. Nausea sweeps over me—killing fairies is a lot messier than killing vampires—but I swallow it down. No time for puking when my family’s still in mortal danger.

    It’s then that I realize everyone’s stopped fighting and is staring at me. “She killed Apple Blossom!” cries the smallest of the fairies.

    “Oh God, Rayne! What have you done?” Mom whispers hoarsely.

    I look at the fairy, then at my parents, confusion warring inside of me. “What have I done?” I reply. “I ... saved ... I mean, I protected ...” What’s going on here? Weren’t we fighting to the death?

    “Get her!” the fairy cries. The five remaining creatures take flight, swarming in my direction, swords blazing. I suck in a breath, hold up my stake, wondering how the hell I’m going to kill all of them at once.

    “No!” Mom suddenly cries, leaping in front of me, just as the fairies start dive-bombing me. They slam into her instead and her thin body crumples like tissue paper as she falls to the ground.

  • Romance | Fantasy | Vampire