Too preoccupied to eat, I skipped breakfast and headed straight for class. I fiddled with the bandage on my hand while crossing the bridge, my mind buzzing with all the new information I'd obtained.

It had only been four days since I arrived on Lachlan Island. And since then I've been: assaulted, seen more blood and violence than I'd ever seen in my whole life, and I found out that vampires were real. Oh, and not to mention the shock of finding out I'm the descendant of a vampire.

How can so much shit happen in such a short amount of time?

Heaving an exhausted sigh, I stepped inside the middle academic building, only to realize that I didn't have any school supplies.

"Damnit," I mumbled under my breath. "Wonder if I have time to grab my book bag?"

With all the chaos of the past few days, I hadn't had a chance to buy any books for class. But I did have some paper and pencils.

That had to count for something, right?

Deciding it was best to at least show up to class with note taking material, I turned to head back to my dorm... and crashed right into the door.

Or, so I thought.

I sucked in a harsh breath as warm liquid soaked my sweater and spattered my face. Addled, I glanced down, trying to hold the wet fabric away from my body when I felt myself pale.

It wasn't coffee or soda staining my once pristine canary yellow sweater--it was blood. Deep crimson, metallic-scented blood. And there was a lot of it.

"Audrey," Duke was staring down at me, caramel eyes wide with alarm. Then, they changed. In seconds he went from looking bewildered to hungry, before finally shifting back to normal. "I'm so sorry. Are you alright?"

I swallowed down the sudden lump in my throat, and nodded. "I'm okay. Are you?"

I hadn't seen him since he held me after... I shook my head, unwilling to think about his savagery from yesterday.

"I am truly sorry," he mumbled, his gaze turning down to a crumpled paper cup on the floor.

My brow furrowed. "About the shirt? It's really not a big deal, Duke. I can always change clothes."

I was actually more concerned about his shirt. Like mine, it had been bloodstained during our collision. But his top wasn't something casual like mine; it was part of his uniform. He couldn't just throw it away, and no amount of bleach could return it back to its former immaculately white glory.

I hope he doesn't get reprimanded for it.

He shook his head, and smirked, like he was enjoying some private joke. "Come on, let's get cleaned up."

Stooping over, he picked the cup up off the floor, and led me outside.

~~~

Seeing as how we were both covered in blood, Duke thought it best for us to go to the laundry room to clean up.

Once inside, Duke strolled to one of the dryers on the right side of the room and opened it.

"Here, you can borrow one of my shirts." He handed over a grey thermal, then turned to fetch another work shirt for himself.

Thanking him, I walked over to the huge industrial sink next to the washers and carefully slipped the sweater over my head.

Luckily, I was wearing the camisole from earlier as an undershirt. And luckier still, it somehow managed to barely get any blood leaked onto it.

I started to pull on the clean shirt Duke had given me when I remembered some of the blood had landed on my face.

"Hey, Duke," I spun around to face him. "Could you hand me-- oh my God."

I froze with a gasp, feeling like I'd just been dunked in an ice bath. Covering him from the nape of his neck to the small of his back were scars; long, thick, deep scars.

"Duke..?" I choked, not knowing what to say.

His broad shoulders slumped for a moment, then he turned, holding a washcloth. Neither of us said anything as he came over to wet his rag at the sink. I don't think either of us were able to breathe, actually, let alone speak.

It wasn't until he began to wipe my face clean that the painful silence was finally broken.

"I had a family once." He mumbled, surprising me. "A wife. A daughter. We even had a dog."

He paused to give me a melancholy smirk, switching hands to wipe my other cheek.

"But they were stolen from me, when Roman soldiers invaded our village." He clenched his eyes shut, agony etched all over his beautiful face.

"You don't have to say anymore, Duke." I whispered, placing my hand on top of his.

"No, I need to talk about this." He replied, voice full of resolve. "I can't keep shouldering it alone; it's unhealthy."

"Then why not talk about it with Aiden, or Dean Lachlan? Why tell me?" I asked, puzzled.

Sighing, Duke let the hand on my cheek drop. "Because, I lov-- I mean, I care for you. Very, very deeply. And I want you to know me, better than anyone else."

My heart stopped. Did I hear him right? Did he really almost say love?

"But we're practically strangers," I replied, shocked. "How could you have feelings for me?"

I had a sudden moment of deja Vu, remembering my earlier conversation with Dean Lachlan.

You are everything to me.

That was the Dean's answer when I had asked what I was to him.

He couldn't possibly feel that way about me, neither of them could. Not in the short time we've spent together.

"It's strange, I know, but that's how I feel." He gazed down at me, intense and sincere. "And you feel the same way, don't you?"

He was right, I cared for him. Though, I wasn't sure if my feelings for him were as strong as his were for me.

"I understand your skepticism, so let me put your mind at ease."

I arched a brow. "How?"

"By telling you of my mortal life," he replied, voice low. "Something I've never revealed to anyone."

Curiosity fought compassion as I considered his offer.

Sure, I wanted to know more about Duke. But the pain on his face, those scars...I wasn't sure if I could handle the heartache behind it all.

"We could discuss it over dinner, if you like." He gave me a kind smile, eyebrows raised expectantly.

I started to agree, when I remembered Dean Lachlan's "raincheck".

"I'm sorry, I already have plans this evening."

"A lunch date, then?" He suggested, undeterred.

I nodded. "Okay, a lunch date sounds good. But on one condition."

"What's that?"

"Can we work our way up to the serious stuff?" I paused, struggling to find the right words. "I do want to get to know you better, I really do. But, with everything that has happened--"

"You're afraid it might be too much for you." He interrupted, sagely. "Don't worry, I'll save the gory details until after our meal."

"Thanks. Oh, I almost forgot," I caught a glimpse of the time on a clock above the door. "I need to go to class."

"Let me get cleaned up and I'll escort you."

"You don't have to do that. I've taken up enough of your time as it is."

"You will have to wait for me anyway." He said, reaching around me to wet his rag again. "Class can't begin without the instructor."

My jaw dropped. "You're my history professor?"

He shrugged, sheepishly. "Who better to teach history than a fifteen hundred-year- old vampire?"