Claimed by My Vampire Stepbrother

Liam’s P.O.V

If hell had a waiting room, it probably looked a lot like my new classroom at Devil’s Lake High.

The overhead lights buzzed, casting everything in a color somewhere between pale blue and hospital white. My sneakers squeaked against the polished floor as I walked to the front of the room, following the teacher’s gesture. She smiled at me kindly, but it was somewhat off, like when adults try too hard to make something awkward feel normal.

“This is our new transfer student,” she said to the class, her voice chipper. “Why don’t you introduce yourself to the class, Liam?”

It would’ve been fine if everyone hadn’t been staring at me like I’d walked in wearing a hazmat suit. I could just tell from the way the room went silent that I didn’t belong here.

It wasn’t the usual new-kid silence either that would last all of five seconds before people go back to pretending you don’t exist. I could feel it sitting in my gut as I stood in front of the class, pretending not to notice thirty-odd faces staring at me like I’d walked in dripping blood from head to toe.

The lights above me flickered once during that silence, and the whole place smelled of floor polish and damp air. There was a window cracked open near the back, and a thin strand of cold wind slithered through it, brushing the back of my neck. I wanted to tug at my collar, just anything that might make me look less awkward standing there.

“Liam,” said the homeroom teacher, Ms. Rayner, tried again. “Why don’t you introduce yourself?”

Right. Sure. My favorite thing to do—stand in front of strangers and give them reasons to judge me.

I cleared my throat. “Uh, hey. I’m Liam Tanner. Just moved here from Minneapolis.”

No one said a thing. I waited for the usual polite nods or someone to whisper something dumb like Go Vikings! but it never came. Just that same dead silence.

Well, fuck.

I glanced around. The kids in the front looked politely bored, the ones near the back looked… wrong. There was no other way to say it. Their eyes were too sharp, too focused. Like they weren’t just looking at me, but through me.

Something crawled up my spine.

It had been like this since the day Mom told me she was getting married—one strange thing after another, all of it stacking up like bad omens.

It had been a Wednesday, raining hard enough that the world outside my window looked like it was melting. I’d been halfway through packing for our next move when she came into my room holding a mug of coffee and smiling in that weird, nervous way she only did when she’d already made up her mind about something I wouldn’t like.

“Liam,” she said softly, “I need to tell you something.”

I remember the way she hesitated before setting the mug down on my desk, like the coffee was the only thing keeping her hands from shaking.

“I met someone.”

That wasn’t unusual. She’d gone on dates before—mostly the polite, quiet type of dates that fizzled out before I even learned the guy’s name.

But then she said, “His name’s Emerson Novak.”

Novak. Even then, that name sounded ancient, like it carried too much history for one person.

“And,” she’d said, smiling like she was daring me to stop her, “we’re getting married.”

I’d just stared at her. “You mean… married married?”

“Yes.” She laughed. “I know it’s sudden, but… he—he makes me happy, Liam. You’ll like him.”

Right. Because I’d been so good at liking the last five houses, the last five towns, the last five chapters of whatever “new beginning” she’d promised.

But I’d nodded anyway. Because that’s what you do when your mom looks happy for the first time in years. You don’t ruin it.

“Mr. Tanner?”

The sound of my name snapped me back. Ms. Rayner was still looking at me expectantly.

“Uh, yeah?”

“Tell us something about yourself,” she prompted. “Your hobbies, maybe?”

“Oh.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “I used to play football. Wide receiver. Back at my old school.”

A couple of kids muttered something. I couldn’t tell if they were impressed or skeptical. Whatever. I just wanted to get this over with at this point.

Ms. Rayner smiled politely. “Anything else you’d like to share?”

“Not really,” I said. Please, just let me sit down and disappear. “Just hoping to survive senior year.”

A few people laughed quietly. It was the first normal reaction I’d gotten since stepping into the room. I almost relaxed, until, oddly, I felt the hairs on the back on my neck prickle. It was the kind of feeling you get when you think you’re being watched. But the thing is, I didn’t even have to look who it was, because I could think of no one else in this class who would stare at me with such intensity except...

Elijah. My new stepbrother.

I turned my head, and sure enough, there he was, sitting near the window, half-bathed in sunlight that didn’t seem to touch him properly. Dark hair. Sharp jaw. Eyes so pale blue they looked almost silver in the light. Those same eyes glared at me, and the corners of his mouth twitched like he wanted to smirk. Or maybe mouth me off.

And that was when it dawned on me that I had introduced myself with my old surname, Tanner, instead of the one Emerson had me change into.

Was that why he was glaring at me so harshly?

I met his gaze with a challenge of my own, daring him to correct me by saying, “It’s Novak now. Not Tanner.”

Our eyes locked for one long moment—it had gone so long that I thought he might say something snarky—until he looked away, a faint glint in his eyes that might’ve been irritation. Or amusement.

I could never figure him out, not that I really cared enough to do so.

“Thank you, Liam,” Ms. Rayner said quickly, breaking the tension. “You can take the empty seat beside Noah.”

I forced a nod and walked down the aisle. As I put one foot in front of the other, my pulse thudded in my ears. Every time I passed a desk, I could feel eyes following me, tracking me, measuring me. High school kids felt more like vultures than anything else, but the kids at Devil’s Lake High were on another level of creepy. I suppressed a shudder.

I glanced sideways at Elijah, my stepbrother. He still wouldn’t look at me. Fine. I didn’t need him to because if this place wanted me to play nice, to fit in, to pretend like I belonged… Well, they were in for a surprise.

I might’ve been the new kid, but I wasn’t planning on becoming a Novak anytime soon.