Camilla was having one of the worst days of her life, second only to the first - but not last - time her twin sister beat her in a fight. Not only was she forced to attend public school for the first time in her life, she was surrounded by monsters, a Hunter’s worst nightmare.

To make matters worse, she knew the only reason she was stuck in that hellhole was because she was the weaker child in her family. Her parents, Hunters bloodsworn to protect humans from monsters, had picked her over her sister because they thought she was more expendable.

They didn’t say that they cared less about her life than her sister’s, but it didn’t take a genius to see it. But Camilla had long accepted this.

Layla made her first kill at 16, barely old enough to drive, but old enough to put a silver dagger through the throat of a werewolf that had come too close to their home. Camilla on the other hand was still untried, still incapable of posing a threat to anyone. They may have looked identical, but Layla had all the bloodlust and cruelty and ferocity Hunters prized above all else.

Sure, Camilla could paint a beautiful landscape better than anyone in her family, but that meant nothing when her sister could hit the bullseye of a target from fifty feet away. Camilla could only hit it from thirty feet away. Sure, Camilla had mastered her shading technique at 14, but what did that matter when Layla bested her in every fight their parents forced them into?

Camilla knew she would never love her sister, but she never knew how much she could hate her until a monster slid into the seat beside her, and all Camilla could do was curse Layla for ever being born.

Camilla couldn’t help but be disgusted by her proximity to the monster beside her, but she forced that revulsion down, down, down her throat until she was choking on it. She was there for a reason. She was supposed to befriend these monsters, to get them to accept her as one of their own, no matter how much she hated them. Camilla forced herself to face the monster and smile.

“Hey, I’m Camilla,” she said. “It’s nice to meet you. What’s your name?” The monster barely even looked at Camilla, as if she wasn’t worth her time. Camilla fought the urge to punch her, and kept that smile plastered on her face.

“You’re new here, right?” Camilla asked, still trying. She had to do this, the one things her parents were trusting her with. “I am too. What do you think of the school?” Still, the monster didn’t respond, but Camilla was nothing if not stubborn.

“I love your hair,” she lied, eyeing the blue curls, hoping the disgust she felt wasn’t visible on her face. She could never love something so unnatural. This time the monster didn’t even look at her, and Camilla’s thin grasp on her temper slipped. She was so sick of being treated like she was less than those around her. This monster was no better than her, and Camilla would not be treated as such.

“Fine, fuck you too then,” Camilla snapped, turning away once again, fingers tap tap tapping away on her desktop. She knew anger was written in every line of her face, but she didn’t care anymore. If the monster wanted to be a bitch, let her. There were others she could trick, others who surely craved the friendship she offered.

“Did I hurt your feelings?” the creature asked, a soft, mocking note to her voice. Camilla turned to see those blood red lips twisted into a smirk.

“I just don’t want to waste time on someone who seems to find joy in being a bitch,” Camilla told her coldly. The shifter raised an eyebrow, surprised.

“It’s not because of what I am?” She asked, with what sounded like curiosity in her voice.

“If that was the issue I wouldn’t have said anything to begin with,” Camilla responded, tossing her pale hair over her shoulder. The shifter gave her a twisted, but genuine smile.

“I’m Ava. Nice to meet you,” she said, golden eyes dancing with something that, against her better judgement, made her want to keep talking to her.

“So you told me your name after all,” Camilla said, smiling back at her. “Guess you aren’t a total bitch.”

“No, I definitely am,” Ava said, leaning her chin on her palm. “You’re just interesting.” Camilla tried not to scowl at that. Instead, she mimicked Ava, chin on her one hand, the other running through her hair in a pretense of absent-mindedness.

“Aren’t I lucky,” Camilla said sarcastically, hating herself more and more with each word. She opened her mouth to say something else, but the teacher chose that moment to begin class, and she turned her attention to him instead.

She’d been looking forward to this class, after all; art was the only thing that made her life worth living some days. She was surprised to find Ava paying as close attention as she was, though. Perhaps even monsters had their passions. Not that it mattered. They’d all be dead before the school year was out, anyway.