Monsters (Prodigium Academy, #1)

by Katie May

Frankie squeezes my hand before I can check my class schedule. And… We’re holding hands again. I totally want to have a girly moment where I swoon and make a wedding scrapbook.

“We’ll meet you outside the classroom.” Vin’s voice leaves no room for argument. Turning towards me, his eyes soften considerably. “Be safe, okay?” “Um...yeah, okay.” Vin is a strange, strange man. A confusing man.

If I was weird, I might start inhaling him like one would inhale cocaine. But I’m not weird, so I just lick him instead.

“You’re a strange monster, you know that, right?” Frankie asks, but his tone makes me think he’s not upset by that. If anything, he sounds amused. Maybe a little tender. “My dad said I was dropped on my head as a child,” I reply very seriously.

It’s just...no one has ever wanted to watch me work before. No one has ever cared.” “I care,” I say immediately, and then blush. Play. It. Cool. “I care about you, Frankie.”

Mama likes her sleep. And… I should stop referring to myself as Mama. People might get the wrong idea.

It’s been a day, and I’m already pussy-whipped. Proudly so.

“Pinkie, Pinkie, I’m coming for Pinkie,” I sing, dancing on the tips of my toes. “Can you shut the fuck up?” Vin snaps. I simply wrap an arm around his neck and sing at the top of my lungs, “Pinkie! I need my Pinkie!” Lowering my voice to a whisper, I breathe, “Pinkie. I want my Pinkie,” before quickly snaking my tongue out to lick his ear.

I mean, sure, I’d like Violet all to myself, but I know she’ll never be truly happy with just me. She needs Jack’s kindness to balance her out. Vin’s steadfast protection. Hux’s devotion. Even Frankie’s unemotional worldview. I understand that, and I accept it.

“If he does, I’ll cut off his dick and feed it to him like a dog. Make him get on his hands and knees and bark for his dog food,” Vin replies darkly, and both Jack and I blink at him. What the everloving fuck? I always suspected Vin was in to some kinky shit, but this is next level.

“There are two naked girls fighting in the library. One of them is Dracula’s daughter.” Jack and I exchange a look before racing after the librarian. What. The. Fuck?

She dies choking on a cock. Okay, so I might need to backtrack a little bit. I can’t just jump right to the good stuff, now can I?

What the fuck🤣🤣

I sing a song I used to listen to a lot. Something about hitting a baby. Or maybe it’s the baby hitting me? One more time.

It’s Cupid. Yup. For detention, the assholes put me in a hallway with the fucking Boogyman and Cupid himself.

I was once told that if I believed something hard enough, it’ll become true. I’m a plant. Just a plant. Nothing to see here, folks. Nothing to see.

For now, I know she’s alive. That’s all that matters. And if something happens to her… I will burn down this entire fucking school.

She’s my mate—I may have only just found her, I may not have been expecting her, but she has dominated my life in the short span I’ve known her. I can’t exist without her.

My mate. My Violet.

That’s the beginning to a twisted joke. A vampire, the Boogeyman, and Cupid walk into detention together… The Breakfast Club: Monster Edition.

I told him I could easily feed from a donor, but what did the asshole do? He growled at me. Fucking growled. I call him my blood bitch now.

I haven’t seen Cal or Barret since detention, and I miss the bastards. They’re probably getting all murdery without me. Cue: an exasperated sigh in French. Why French? No reason. I just think it’s a sexy accent, and I love the way it flows from a man’s lips.

“Help me get presentable, dammit!” Cynthia staggers to her feet...before remembering she removed them and falling on her ass. “Where are my boobs? Grab me my fucking boobs!” If that isn’t something I hear everyday.

“Next time I’m woken up by a hot assassin in the middle of the fucking night,” Cynthia begins, her voice coming from the opposite corner of her body. “You need to be a good friend and help me find my fucking tits.”

Hux doesn’t like a lot of people around me, particularly men. Hell, he freaked out the one time I mentioned I’ve seen Cynthia’s boobs and demanded I move in with him. He is just too damn adorable at times.

“He said, and I quote, ‘Tell my precious treasure she looks radiant in the fall lighting. A vision of beauty.’”

He ruffles his red feathered wings, accidentally hitting the back of Barret’s head. Barret’s swivels around to glare at him, scooping some of his ice cream into his spoon and throwing it at his face.

“We’re not murdering anyone,” Jack declares in clear exasperation. When I open my mouth to protest, he adds, “And no torture either.” Damn him and his moral conscience. “Violet will be upset,” he adds gently, and those words have the intended effect. The fight drains from me, and my shoulders slump forward. “Can I at least maim?” I plead.

With her, I don’t feel alone. She’s the light breaking apart the monotony of darkness I’ve grown accustomed to.

After this mission is over, I will gift her more chocolates to help combat the Great Period. She will no longer fight it alone.

😭😭🥹🥹

The mere thought of my precious treasure under any duress causes my brain to lose cells.

I’m a sex fucking goddess. The epitome of sex. The reason why vaginas exist in the first place. Mason is staring at me intently, and I continue to flutter my lashes. Bow down to the sex goddess. And then… “You have food on your face,” Mason says at last, reverting his attention back to his plate.

I have to give the girl credit: she has balls. Or very strong ovaries. The Queen of Ovaries. Her Vaginasty. This is why I don’t have any friends.

“We’re going to the party,” I say resolutely. “No,” they chorus back to me. I pout. “Please. Pretty please. Pretty please with sparkly dildos and dicks on top?”

“I’m very selective about my clients,” he says conversationally. “I haven’t taken on any body part transplants or enhancements in a month, and I don’t plan to without talking to you first.”

She’s so beautiful that it’s a physical pain. With her golden hair haloing around her face and dirt smearing her cheeks, I’m utterly smitten.

All I can do is stare, enraptured. Captivated.

“So what’s the plan?” Violet asks, scampering up to stand beside me and linking her arm with my own. “Do I need a tarp?” I blink at her wordlessly, wondering what the hell goes through that pretty little head of hers. “A tarp?” I repeat blankly. She nods seriously. “To catch the blood.” My heart warms exponentially. Before I can stop myself, I press my lips to her head.

She’s as addictive as the drugs I love to sample. If I don’t stop soon, I’ll never be able to. Her intoxicating scent. Her luscious curves. Her sparkling eyes.

“And what is my precious treasure up to?” he asks in that mouth-watering accent I want to make babies with. “Shoving a sex doll clone of me into my wardrobe,” I blurt out. Smooth, Violet. Real smooth. Frankie facepalms himself. Silence. And then all of the men break into raucous laughter. Mason stares at me fondly, eyes twinkling. “You’re a strange one, Pinkie. Very strange.”

“Yup. Because I was totally joking,” I say. “I’m just a regular, old jokester. Just call me the queen of jokes. Queen Joker. Joker Queen. Joker—” “Too much,” Frankie mutters under his breath to me. I immediately stop talking.

“The lust you’re feeling now is not real,” he admits on a breath. “It’s part of my allure as an incubi.” His unreadable eyes flash to mine. “I have a darkness in me. A darkness you’ve probably seen before. I’m not good. I’ll never be the good guy, the hero. But you have my vow, Violet, that I’ll protect you with all the darkness within me.”

“My precious treasure is allowed to hug me whenever she so desires.” “Awww! I knew you loved me!” Mason sings, eating up the distance between us and throwing his arms around Hux. Hux lifts his eyes to the ceiling as if asking for patience. “You have five seconds before I remove your dick, feed it to you until you’re performing oral on yourself, and then roast your balls over an open fire. One. Two. Five.” Mason pulls away with a rather girly squeal. “What happened to three and four?” he demands. Hux flashes a malevolent grin, teeth shining in the dim lights. “I really wanted to cut off your dick.”

Maybe once Mother gets over her prejudices, she can invite Violet to her girl’s day. The thought makes me smile. My two women. It’s every man’s dream for his mom and sort-of-girlfriend to go on a murder spree together.

“The oracle saw your future. Dracula’s daughter is going to be the one to kill you.”

Hello??

mirror, I wonder if Cupid’s “you’re now a dumbfuck” arrow hit me in the ass when I slept last night. There’s no fucking way I’m wearing this in public. And yet… I’m totally fucking wearing this in public because Violet insisted and batted those big, beautiful eyelashes of hers at me.

Oh yeah, you’re resident monster hunter isn’t even Scooby himself. Instead, my whipped ass finds itself in a pleated red skirt, an orange sweater pulled tight over my chest, and a pair of thick glasses sliding down my nose. To add insult to injury, the crazy girl put a wig in the box for me to wear. A fucking bowlcut, dark brown wig. Velma. Fucking Velma.

It’s a book about mates and mate bonds. More importantly, it’s a book about how to sever a mate bond. And kill the recipient of the bond in the process.

Uhhhh, mason?! What are you reading

“Thank you for being my friend.” “Thank you for not killing me and making me choke on your cock,” I deadpan.

He can whisper “my precious treasure” all night long. In twenty different languages. Or he can just bark it like a dog. Either way, I’ll be one very happy—very thirsty—monster.

I haven’t banged any of them, thank you very much. No fields have been plowed on this farm. Poor Old McDonald will be rolling over in his grave.