It was going on midnight, and this slovenly rich boy was sipping a martini with a twist of lemon.
“Getting back to Stormcloud is a bitch, Quinn,” he said. “Driving up a fuckin’ mountain at night is nerve-wracking stuff. I needed a drink the minute I pulled up. Of course, you wouldn’t understand that. You didn’t go anywhere, did you? Just stuck around all week in your little closet, playing with yourself, thinking of me.”
I didn’t let myself get flustered. I tried to turn it around on him.
“Have you imagined me doing that all week, Zephyr? It must have been tough not being able to peep on me.”
“I was too busy getting blown by the staff on my dad’s yacht to miss you.”
Arvo snickered, then walked over to the lounge’s sideboard. He opened a decanter and poured himself some scotch. It appeared the teachers had their own way of coping with Stormcloud Academy’s oppressive atmosphere.
“Hey, Arvo, after you pour that drink, do me a favor.”
“What, Zeph?”
“Fuck off.”
Arvo grimaced. He didn’t like being bossed around by the top King, but he wasn’t permitted to do shit about it. I decided to piss him off a little more and tossed him a flirty wink. Too bad, sweetie. Looks like your boss isn’t going to share anything with you tonight.
Once we were alone, Zephyr motioned for me to sit in the chesterfield across from him.
“I prefer to stand.”
“Do what you want: just answer my questions. First, what were you doing in Amelia’s archives?”
“Taking an active interest in the history of my school.”
“I could tell her, you know. That old bat and I are tight as they come. One word from me and she’ll—”
“Pour piss on me and send me to live in a closet? Do what you want, Zephyr. There are only so many threats you can make at this point.”
He downed the last of his drink and stomped to the liquor for a refill. “Let me give you a word of advice,” he growled. “If you keep hanging out with Gail Monfort, your life can and will get worse. Infinitely and permanently.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Want one?” he offered, holding up martini glass.
“No. What is the problem with Gail? She never hurt anyone.”
“That doesn’t matter. That bitch is bad news. She comes from bad stock.”
“You mean her father?”
Zephyr turned back around and stirred his martini. It was weird that he wouldn’t look at me. His power seemed to come mostly from his willingness to terrorize without flinching, to look you in the eye as he twisted the knife. Now, he couldn’t bring himself to meet my eyes.
“Douglas Monfort knew your father, didn’t he?” I pressed him. “He was one of the Kings. That’s why you paid Gail’s tuition. And mine.”
“You’re pretty smart, aren’t you, Quinn?”
“I’m not dumb. You own this school, but you wanted Gail and me close.”
“You don’t have a clue.”
“Do you know what happened to our fathers?”
“Accidents, that’s all I know.”
“Accidents? Likely fucking story. Like the accident that happened to Theo?”
Suddenly, Zephyr flung his glass to the floor, shattering it. At once, his hands were at my hoodie, pulling me close and nearly off my feet. “Look here, Biba,” he shouted, “you are only alive because of my goodwill. Don’t you ever fucking forget that. If I choose to, I could throw you to my boys for their fun. Once they use you up, they’ll throw you off the mountain, and no one will care.”
My heart was beating like mad. I was clutching Zephyr’s wrists to steady myself. He wasn’t hurting me. He was just scaring the shit out of me. But for some reason, I liked it. The fire in his eyes and the flecks of spittle flying into my face. The sense that he could do whatever his sick heart desired and no one would come to save me.
I wanted to flee, but not from him. I wanted to get away from the need I felt for him, the ache between my legs, the lightheaded urge to surrender to him. “Let me go, Zephyr,” I whimpered.
“Or what?”
“Or … I … I’ll—”
He’d heard enough. In a flash, I was turned around and bent over the arm of the leather sofa. My back was washboard flat. He was holding me down by my hair. If I wanted to escape, I’d need my arms, which were clutching the armrest.
I also didn’t know if I wanted to escape.
“Do I need to discipline you, Biba? Do I need to put my hand down until you learn to behave?”
“Maybe you do,” I moaned, tempting the predator who had me in his claws.
Quick as a lash, Zephyr’s hand came down hard on my upturned rear. My squeal of pain and pleasure was drowned out by a resounding slap of skin in denim.
“Do you need another?”
My eyes clenched, I nodded.