The Silver Eyed Prince (Highest Royal Coven of Europe) Read online

  Lela raised her hand.

  “Yes, Miss Ikeda?”

  Lela stood up. “The Royals, Descendants, the Tainted, and Hellions.”

  “Very good.” Mr. Clark nodded. “Let's commence by discussing the Tainted first, since everyone in this class is Tainted.”

  He went to the board. “As you well know, the Tainted are Deimons born against the covenant, from the union of one immortal parent and one human parent,” he pointed at the equation he wrote in bold letters. Immortal + Human = Tainted.

  “Why is it against the covenant?” Someone called from the back of the classroom.

  Elizabeth recognized the girl as Julie Anne, the pretty, petite girl Lela had introduced to her earlier.

  “Good question, Miss Riggs,” Mr. Clark said. “The covenant does not tolerate the union because it has many consequences that rarely end well. A Deimon who falls in love with a mortal faces many difficulties. One of them is the temptation to succumb to his predatory instinct that could be fatal to the human partner and others. Only the highly disciplined ones are successful.” He paused and looked around. “Any other questions? Yes, Miss Jill Weber?”

  The girl with copper-colored hair rose from her chair. “What if a Royal, a Descendant, or a Hellion mates with a Tainted?”

  “Then the offspring will still be a Tainted. Any child who has a trace of human genetics will mature and age as a Tainted.” He wrote another equation on the board that read: Any breed + Tainted = Tainted.

  Elizabeth wondered about her dad. If she was a Tainted and her mom was a Deimon ... then he must be human! Was that the real reason for her parents' separation?

  “Now let's talk about Conversion.” Mr. Clark walked halfway into the middle aisle. “Can anyone tell me what it is?” He pointed to Jared. “Yes, Mr. Crowe?”

  “Conversion is a genetic transformation where human DNA is prevailed by our potent DNA.”

  “Correct!” Mr. Clark strolled back to the board. “The human gene becomes dormant and the immortal gene becomes dominant. This results in the alteration of your physical appearance, preferences, and physiology. You become stronger and faster. Your senses heighten and your diet preference changes.” He wrote the summation: Human to Immortal = Conversion.”

  Elizabeth sat up eagerly, remembering the same discussion with her mom.

  “Does anyone know when the Tainted experience Conversion? Yes, Mr. Walker?” Mr. Clark nodded at Ben.

  Ben tapped his index finger on his cheek. “Between the ages ten to thirteen?”

  “You're right,” he said. “It coincides with puberty, when the body is undergoing significant changes. Before Conversion, your dominant genetic structure is human.” He wrote another summary: Tainted at 0 to 9 years = Human 10 to 13 years = Immortal.

  Elizabeth frowned. Why did she undergo conversion at seventeen? And what about the black pearl?

  “Now who can tell me what Maturity is?” Mr. Clark turned to face the class again. “Mr. Bret Kline?”

  The tall guy dressed in Goth stood up. “Maturity is when Conversion reaches its peak and affects the ageing process.”

  “Exactly!” The instructor waved the white board marker in his hand. “This is when your abilities achieve their full potential. Everyone is unique. Some may be stronger, or more perceptive. It depends on the potency of the gene you inherited from your immortal parent. Does anyone know when the Tainted reach maturity?”

  “Between forty five to fifty five years old?” Carlos answered.

  “That's correct, Mr. Guerrero. Maturity age also depends on the quality of the inherited gene. The more superior the gene, the earlier the Maturity.”

  “But how does Maturity affect the ageing process?” Debbie Parks, the big-boned girl with severe features they’d seen earlier, asked in a mannish voice.

  “Maturity slows down the ageing process for the Tainted to a year per decade,” Mr. Clark replied.

  “You mean I will look like a forty year old even though my real age is fifty?” Debbie Parks asked.

  “Precisely. Tainteds age because they carry a dormant human gene.” Mr. Clark wrote on the board: Tainted Maturity = Peak Conversion Potential + Age Deceleration.

  “Our ageing won't slow down until we're forty five to fifty five?” Ben cupped his face between his hands. “I’ll go broke buying face cream! Waaahh!”

  The instructor stopped writing and swiveled to look at him. “Are you all right, Mr. Walker?”

  “Hwwaaa—”

  Lela slapped her hand on Ben's mouth with a loud splat. “He's just having a wah-hah moment.” She smiled innocently. “You know—too much human T.V.”

  Mr. Clark raised one bushy eyebrow at them.

  The bell chimed.

  “We will continue our discussions next time,” he addressed the class and gave Ben another suspicious glance.

  Elizabeth stood up and grabbed her bag, ruminating about what she had learned. She was in the Tainted class, so obviously she belonged to this group. But she couldn't quite quell the discrepancies of her Conversion. Why was she different?

  “Elizabeth!” Carlos called by the doorway with Ben and Lela. “Hurry up! We can't be late for Combat!”

  Chapter 9

  Combat Class with Major Alexander

  Elizabeth observed the young, powerfully built man standing before them on the manicured lawn next to the Coliseum. He held himself in a confident stance—feet apart, chest out, hands behind his back. His black leather jacket hugged his muscular form with matching tight leather pants tucked in knee high boots. A short ponytail confined his blond hair beneath his nape and a faint scar sliced downward from his temple, bisecting his right eyebrow.

  “I am Major Alexander, your instructor.” He watched them take their spots and assemble in columns. “Who among you can defend yourselves in Combat?” His scarlet eyes swept the class.

  Silence.

  “And who among you,” he continued, walking slowly through their ranks, “have been in actual combat?”

  Silence.

  “Just what I expected!” he exclaimed, making some of the students wince. “You see, our lives are more complicated than humans.”

  He stopped to stare at the boy next to Elizabeth, who paled and swallowed with an audible gulp. ”You are here because your parents chose to live in peace, but where there is peace, there is conflict. For us to maintain our way of life we have to fight for it. Not all bloodlines are good. Not all bloodlines can be trusted.” He clasped his hands behind his back and made his way to the front, then turned to face the class. “Combat is where you learn how to kill in order to live your chosen life.” He looked every student standing near him in the eyes.

  Elizabeth bit her lip. The mere thought of committing murder nauseated her even if it meant defending a cause.

  “Today, I need to see your abilities in terms of speed and agility.” Major Alexander cast his gaze towards the rear of the class. “Royals!” he beckoned.

  Elizabeth's heart jumped. Her classmates turned to gawk. She did the same, but was too short to get a good view.

  “The Royals will pick some of you to challenge them. It will hurt a little, but count it as a learning experience.”

  At Major Alexander's signal, the Royals began to walk between their formations, making their selection.

  Two male Royals made their way along the aisle on either side of Elizabeth. She sighed with relief when they chose two boys and headed to the front where the other Royals awaited with their picks.

  Elizabeth peeped around the girl ahead of her. The Royals were dressed in black leather like Major Alexander. She recognized Prince David, Prince Philippe, and the blonde twin Princesses, who picked Bret Kline, the boy in Goth, and Debbie Parks, the girl with the permanent scowl. Lady Catherine had selected Carlos, whose grin extended all the way to his sideburns.

  Elizabeth sank back and sighed, wondering why she was missing a certain tall, dark haired someone.

  “You,” a deep voice said behind her.


  Startled, she swiftly swung around and smacked right into a stone wall—except this one was clad in leather.

  Elizabeth clutched the material to steady herself and focus. The wall had a zipper that went up and up, until it ended on a black cadet collar.

  She blinked. The collar had someone's neck, the neck had someone's chin, and the chin had someone's lips, chiseled and red, and very ... Oh shit.

  Elizabeth gathered the nerve to look up—and found the most breathtakingly beautiful eyes she had ever seen. They gleamed with amusement—laughing at her.

  She felt the surge of color from her neck to her scalp. Her face, for sure, must have turned to a lovely shade of crimson. Why, this morning he looked at her with disappointment, and now—it's mockery? Did he single her out to pick her—or to pick on her?

  She glared at him with all the intensity she learned from her high school drama club.

  Major Alexander cleared his throat loudly. “Are you doing this today or are you waiting for the New Year?”

  Elizabeth swiveled her head towards Major Alexander suddenly remembering where she was. Then, she threw a panicked look at Beautiful Eyes, who lifted a dark eyebrow and dragged his gaze downwards to where her hands still clutched the material of his uniform. Apparently, her brain had forgotten to tell her fingers to let go of his leather jacket.

  Elizabeth had an instant desire to morph into a groundhog and dig a hole to hide in.

  “Go to the front now!” Lela hissed next to her, giving her a firm push.

  She dashed to the front without looking back, only to find that Beautiful Eyes had beaten her there. He stood waiting for her with that annoying bored expression.

  Elizabeth collected whatever poise she had left and stood next to him.

  “Finally!” Major Alexander exclaimed. “Let us proceed. Challengers!” He darted his eyes at each of them. “Your Royal partner will be your assailant. You are under pursuit by your assailant and your mission is to scale that twenty foot wall.” He pointed at the stone enclosure that bordered the school property flooded with light from the ground up.

  “If you reach the top ledge you have successfully defeated your assailant.” The major gestured towards the ridge. “But if the assailant catches up with you, you must do everything in your power to complete your mission.” He raised a hand to pacify the anxious groans that arose from the class.

  “Start at the hundred meter marks on my signal.” The Major pointed to the white lines on the grass and raised the starter gun.

  Elizabeth positioned herself on her spot and glanced quickly at Carlos, who gave her thumbs up.

  The gunshot rang and they took off.

  Elizabeth ran as fast as she could toward the wall. The wind bounced on her face from her acceleration. She glanced from side to side. Not one of her classmates had been able to catch up.

  She smiled as she approached the wall, tasting the sweetness of victory, but her elation quickly got squashed. Beautiful Eyes, no—change that to Mr. Mockery, was leaning against the wall, waiting for her with that infuriating, what else, but mockery written all over his face.

  Well, she wasn't about to let him thwart her mission! She whizzed past him, deciding at the last minute not to scale the wall as instructed, but to jump up onto the top ledge instead.

  With all her might, she used her acceleration to propel herself in the air, feeling triumphant to see consternation replace the mockery on Mr. Mockery's face.

  By the time she realized she hadn't thought about her landing, it was too late. The ledge was too narrow and she had jumped too high. She watched in horror as she sailed past the wall and plunged into the darkness outside.

  Elizabeth squeezed her eyes shut. Nothing could compare to the sensation of falling beyond control, not knowing where, or how much it would hurt to land. She braced herself for whatever awaited her on the ground.

  Surprisingly, she landed on her back on something that bounced to absorb the impact of her weight. Her landing had been easy and comfortable. She opened her eyes and scurried to get up.

  That “something” tightened and trapped her right back against a familiar stone wall clad in leather.

  Elizabeth groaned. How did she manage to end up her, twice in a single class?

  “What in the devil's name were you thinking?” Mr. Mockery snapped in a rather appealing British accent.

  Elizabeth looked up to find Mr. Mockery replaced by Mr. Quite-Pissed-Off, fuming with irritation at her. He looked devastatingly gorgeous under the moonlight—furious scowl, clenched jaw, dagger eyes, and all.

  Oh well. Too bad, she didn't like him.

  He sputtered words in French that sounded suspiciously obscene.

  Was he trying to shock her? Hah! For His Royal Ass-ness' info, she hadn’t gone through a smorgasbord of public schools without enriching her vocabulary. She could eat obscenities for breakfast, thank you very much!

  He suddenly swung around, taking her with him.

  Elizabeth gasped. She was in his arms!

  “Your Highness, please put me down!” She pushed against his chest as he strode towards the wall.

  “I can't.” he glowered at her.

  Elizabeth wiggled and struggled to get free. “Please, Sir—!” She twisted and thrashed harder. “Let go of me!”

  He halted at once. “As you wish!” he growled and dropped her unceremoniously.

  She landed with a big splash on her butt in freezing foot-deep water. “Oh!” Her pants, shoes, and sweater quickly got soaked along with the bottom half of her hair. She scrambled to her feet and saw that the wall ran parallel with a wide creek.

  “Satisfied?” He arched a dark eyebrow and folded his arms across his chest.

  Provoked and disgraced, Elizabeth forgot her manners and whom she was talking to. “You mean, cocky, scum—!” she retorted angrily, but was silenced with shock when his eyes started to glow brightly in the dark. He towered over her in the middle of the creek, a threatening figure in black, and his boots protecting him from the water. Fear churned in her gut. She took a step back.

  They glared at each other in nail-biting silence until finally, he heaved a long, heavy sigh. “Come, let's go back in,” he said in a surprisingly pleasant tone, offering his hand to her. Mr. Quite-Pissed-Off had evaporated and Beautiful Eyes had reemerged!

  But she still couldn't trust him. It didn’t matter if they called themselves Deimons. To her, they’re still Vampires and Vampires,—bite. She took another step back.

  “Elizabeth,” his deep voice caressed her name, “we have to go back in. It's not safe here.” He kept his hand out to her, but didn't move any closer.

  “N-no.” She sneaked another step back. “I-I mean, yes, Your Highness, b-but I can find my own way.” How did he know her name?

  “And how the bloody hell are you supposed to do that?” He furrowed his brow and his pleasant tone vanished.

  Elizabeth flicked him a sullen look and disregarded his impatience, turning her attention to their surroundings instead. She noticed the creek was lower by at least ten feet than the school grounds, which elevated the wall to about thirty feet.

  A steep incline bordered the structure, leaving no room to gain momentum for a jump. The surface of the wall was also smooth on the creek side, making it impossible to scale.

  “I'll go around to the main entrance,” Elizabeth said coolly, even though her nerves were a wreck.

  To her astonishment, he dropped his hand to his side and didn't press further.

  “Suit yourself.” He turned his back to her and began to walk away. “The enclosure should end twelve miles east by the main entrance. Good luck.”

  “W-what?” Elizabeth exclaimed behind him.

  “Twelve miles,” he called over his shoulder without slowing his pace. “Oh, and watch out for Hellions in the woods. I hear they tear their victims apart after drinking their blood. They might even be watching now.”

  “H-hellions?” Elizabeth looked around in the darkness
in sudden panic. Whatever those were, they sounded ... well, never mind—, she's not trekking through the woods alone! “Wait! Your Highness?” She caught up to him and latched on to the hem of his jacket, peering warily behind them.

  “Well, well!” He glanced at her, maintaining his swift strides, even though she was half-running alongside him. “What have we here? Changed your mind, aye?” A sardonic chuckle rumbled in his throat.

  Elizabeth bit back a nasty retort. Mr. Mockery had definitely reincarnated and was making fun of her. All at once, she felt stupid and lame ... clumsy ... and pathetic. She was an embarrassing mess! Her clothes were wet, her hair in knots, and her shoes were slushy! How could she go back and face her classmates? Major Alexander would surely chastise her for not following instruction and report her to Administrator Richard—who in turn would call her mom! Three hours into her first day at Darian Hall and already she had managed to screw up! Worse, she had made a fool of herself right in front of—, Oh, God, he must think she's the village idiot!

  She stared in extreme humiliation at Mr. Mockery.

  This whole disaster was just way too much for her to take.

  She abruptly stopped walking and burst into tears.

  Chapter 10

  The Prince and Elizabeth

  Prince William couldn't believe she broke down and cried. He had listened to her thoughts, amazed to discover the total opposite of what he had expected.

  She was nothing like the sheltered, meek Princesses in Europe. His Elizabeth was independent, smart, and opinionated. And, yes—quite fluent with profanities too. She contradicted him, refused to be dazzled, and asserted herself. He was impressed but taken aback. No one ever dared challenge him, and frankly, he didn't know how to handle it politely.

  But now, seeing her disheveled figure sobbing in the middle of the dark creek, she looked vulnerable. How could he be such an insensitive, pompous jackass?

  He took her in his arms at once.

  “Hush . . .” He smoothed her tangled hair and pulled her to his chest. The contact singed his senses and every fiber of his consciousness tuned in to the frequency of her mind.