Page 3 of Blind Bite
“Miss Bensen,” Professor Holloway's voice interrupted our chatter.
The lecture hall fell silent as thirty pairs of eyes turned toward me. “Is my lecture on ancient mythology interrupting your social planning?”
“No, sir. Sorry.”
“And Miss Crawford, perhaps you'd like to share what was so important?”
Lacey straightened. “Just asking about homework, Professor.”
“Indeed.” His eyebrows formed a disapproving V. “Miss Bensen, see me after class.”
My stomach sank. Krista was expecting me at the shop by three, and Holloway was notorious for his lengthy post-class lectures on responsibility.
“Great,” I muttered, sinking lower in my seat.
Lacey shot me an apologetic look as she mouthed, “Sorry.”
I spent the rest of the class taking meticulous notes, hoping it might soften Holloway's mood, but when the bell rang, his stern ‘Miss Bensen’ confirmed my fate.
As everyone filed out, I slowly packed my bag and trudged to his desk.
He sat with one leg crossed over the other, arms folded across his broad chest. The stern expression hadn't left his face.
“Are my lectures that much of a bore that you cannot focus for the sixty minutes you’re here?”
His green eyes pinned me in place as he waited for my answer.
I fidgeted with my bag strap. “No, sir. I actually really enjoy your lectures.”
“Actions speak louder than words, Miss Bensen.” He rose from his chair, his tall frame looming over me. “You'll write me a paper connecting Mesopotamian mythology to modern vampire lore, and before you ask, Twilight is not an acceptable source.”
I bit back a groan and nodded.
“Good.” He moved to his podium, shuffling through papers. “I expect it by next class.”
He glanced up, clearly waiting for protests. “You're dismissed.”
I bolted from the room, already pulling out my phone to text Lacey about the extra work she'd landed me. Then I saw the time: 3:15 PM. Perfect. Now I was late for work, too.
Chapter Four
I burst through Venom's door, the bell jingled sharply above my head. My violet hair was windswept from running six blocks, and my chest heaved as I tried to catch my breath. Lacey owed me big time for this whole mess—the date, the paper, and now rushing here like a madwoman... maybe I'll ask her to bring me one of those fancy coffees she drank like water. The kind I used to abhor making.
Krista looked up from her sketchbook, gold threads in her braids dancing in the afternoon light. A smile played at her hot pink lips. “Look who finally made it to the party.”
“Professor Holloway—“ I started.
“Girl, breathe first,” she waved her hand, “I'm just playing. Get your stuff set up.”
The comforting smell of green soap and ink welcomed me as I settled at my station.
“I've got some reference photos for you to work from.” Krista slid over her iPad. “Think you can mock up some stencils while I finish this consultation?”
“On it, Boss.” I pulled up my drawing program, falling into the rhythm of Krista's signature clean lines and delicate shading.
“How's your practice skin coming along?” she asked while I shaded.
“Getting better. The lines are cleaner now, and I finally nailed that mandala pattern you showed me.” Pride swelled in my chest. Soon I'd be doing real tattoos instead of just fake skin and oranges. “You were right, breaking up the lines from where one begins until it meets the next helped keep them smooth.”
