Bad Blood: An Academy Romance Series (Reverse Harem) (The F My Life Series Book 1)

Harlow, you understand that once a vampire latches onto a blood source, it’s very hard for said vampire to stop himself from bleeding his victim to the point that the victim’s heart stops?” If he didn’t know this before, he does now.
He nods.
“So, wrapping my hand around your throat—can you take a guess as to why I did that?”
Harlow flicks his eyes to mine and looks away. “Because… you didn’t want to bite me.” He shudders. I dare not breathe. The tempting scent of fear would set me off. It has been a long while since I have fed and Harlow does not understand how closely he treads…
“Well done, Harlow.” He has intelligence after all.
“And tell me this, Count,” he starts and I could swear he added a ‘cock’ to the end of my title, but I am not certain. “Do you know what an incubus can do?”
He has little intelligence, after all.
“I am fully aware and fully uninterested.”
He glares at me. “As easily as you could suck the blood out of me, I could suck the life out of you.”
“True,” I say with a laugh. “Were it not for one small thing…” Then I narrow my eyes at him. “I have no life force to offer you.” I stand and whisk away the lint from my sleeves. Damn it. The bottom of my cloak is dirty. Do they not clean the floors in this wretched place?
Harlow remains sitting on the ground because I will it so. All it takes is a finger pressed firmly to his shoulder. His strength is no match for mine and he would do well to remember that.
“Consider yourself lucky this day.” I offer my hand and wait.
Harlow stares at my palm for a moment, then reverently wraps his fingers around my wrist. It must be a new sensation for him—to be able to touch and not render the person incapacitated. Young incubi can’t always control their life-sucking tendencies.
One of the reasons why Vitrine and I created this school was to help creatures of the night, along with others deemed evil. I never wanted any part of it beyond its creation. Vitrine was—is—too involved in other things. I just wish I could be part of her plan. Or with her. Wherever she is.
I force my thoughts aside as memories of Vitrine are just… too painful.
Once the academy became sustainable, Riven took control of operations and Vitrine gifted Castle Raven Night to me, which left me with an anchor and set her free to roam. My cold, dead heart aches for her return, but I fear she will never come back.
But, no use in crying over spilt milk… or blood, as the saying may go.
“Running isn’t a good idea, I assume?” Harlow peers into my eyes, no doubt trying to see past the shadow shrouding my face.
“Unless you want to be attacked from behind,” I confirm.
Another of his lascivious smiles puts a sparkle in his eyes. As an incubus, he is a sex demon. Some of them are bisexual. Perhaps Harlow is one of them. Not that I mind. As a vampire, I have been alive many centuries and have tasted my share of men and women. But it is women who attract me now. Solely.
Well, a woman. But she has been gone for over a century.
“Go.” My voice is flat and unforgiving.
The incubus takes two steps backward, flips me off, then turns and flees the long hallway. If I wanted to, I could reach him in a mere blink and kill him right where he stood. But, I have grown bored with him. Besides, I need to have a discussion with Riven.
I turn to continue to Riven’s office and am slammed with a dizzy spell. I set my hand against a locker and close my eyes. Everything spins. Light. This reaction is probably the after-effect of the surprise brightness. This meeting better be fucking important.
Shaking off the spinning in my head, I open my eyes and focus on the doors ahead. A horizon point. In a haze, I put one foot in front of the other.
I open the door and focus on Gilda, the headmaster’s assistant.
“Count Jean-Claude Von Zarovich, the third here to see the headmaster,” I announce.
She phones Riven, speaks briefly, then nods at me. “You’re free to walk in, Count Jean-Claude Von Zarovich.”
“The third,” I counter. But no one seems to remember my father and grandfather.
Straightening my tie, checking for lint on my suit and shuffling my cloak back, I stand tall and walk forward. I cannot remember the last time I saw Riven. And for him to have called me here… it must be important. It had better be important.
Riven’s office reminds me of a cozy speakeasy of the Victorian era. Warm gold Fleur-de-lis patterns crawl like vines up the walls. Two plush, velvet, high-back chairs sit before a blazing fire. A deep Cherrywood desk guards heavy drapes, thankfully blocking a ceiling-to-floor window. Vitrine believed being able to withstand the UV rays from the window would prove our strength and power. That it would force students to realize the threat we both represented. She never expected me to turn over my role of headmaster. But this academy was never my dream. It was hers and she abandoned it. Just like she abandoned me.
Riven stands by his collection of rare books, or maybe they’re just books from his era. Regardless, they are still old. Not as old as I, of course. But old enough.
“Riven,” I say in greeting.
The demon could be considered effeminate if his closely shaven goatee didn’t accentuate his masculinity quite so much. Mount Fuji eyebrows highlight his pale blue eyes and his olive skin contrasts with the white lace trim blouse he wears beneath his blue coat. Similar to me, he dresses in the old way. The