14. Chapter 14
14
Chapter 14
August
I had seen this home maybe hundreds of times and never knew what lived inside. Or should I say who lived inside. The bane of my existence, and yet—the only thing that motivated me now.
She had never put her hood back on, so her scent was strong—until she stepped close to her home, where it was as if she had disappeared. Except I still saw her. I just couldn’t smell her.
I had come across witches before, but none had masked their homes the way this one did. Though I also had never come across a witch that could suck the life out of me.
On the nights I could come to her, I did. In the beginning, I wanted nothing more than her blood. The scent of it—rich, potent, and unlike anything I’d ever encountered—drew me to her like a predator to prey. That’s all she was supposed to be: prey. Another meal.
But she wasn’t like the others. She was hunting me, too .
It wasn’t just the magic, though that was enough to send a chill down my spine. It was her fire, the defiance in her eyes that dared me to try and break her. I hated it.
I hated her.
But that hatred wasn’t the cold, hollow thing I was used to. It burned, sharp and consuming, so different from the suffocating void I had drifted in for decades.
Winnie ripped me out of that void so quickly that I could barely catch my breath.
She had become the one thing I didn’t understand. The more she resisted, the more I craved her—not just her blood but her fire. She made me feel alive in a way I hadn’t in centuries, and that was the cruelest game of all.
I left her home down the beaten path, not worrying about anyone seeing me. The moon cast pale light through the trees, and the scent of distant prey teased my senses. I hadn’t fed in days, and the hunger clawed at me, sharper than usual after being near her.
I heard the crunch of leaves underfoot before I saw him—a man walking alone, a heavy pack slung over his shoulder. He wasn’t from here; his clothes marked him as a traveler, likely from another kingdom. His steps were weary, the way someone walks when they’ve been on the road too long.
I smiled at the welcome visitor and closed my eyes, shifting them to a human brown. The transformation was effortless but always left a fleeting, almost hollow sensation, as if masking my nature drained something deeper within me.
I stepped into his path, my sudden appearance making him stumble back. His wide eyes darted to the sides, looking for an escape.
“You must not be from here,” I said, my voice smooth, almost conversational. “No one local would be foolish enough to travel at night.”
The man straightened, trying to mask his fear. “I’m just passing through. I mean no harm.”
I let out a low chuckle, taking a step closer. “Harm? No, you wouldn’t mean harm. But harm will find you, all the same.”
He clutched the strap of his pack, his knuckles whitening. “I . . . I have nothing of value.”
“Oh, but you do,” I murmured, my eyes locking onto the vein pulsing in his neck as I could feel the red creeping back into my eyes. “You have exactly what I need.”
Before he could move, I was on him. My hand clamped over his mouth as my fangs sank into his throat. The warm rush of his blood was instant, intoxicating. His struggles weakened as I drained him, the fight leaving his body until he was limp in my grasp.
I let him drop to the ground, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. I crouched beside him, tilting my head as I studied his lifeless form.
“A shame,” I muttered, almost to myself. “But you really should have known better.”
Leaving the body where it fell, I continued on my way. The hunger sated but the lingering taste of his blood was dull compared to what I truly craved. It was never enough.
It would never be enough .
***
The following night, I found her again, though it wasn’t hard considering her scent flooded my senses as soon as I stepped into the woods. Tonight, the woods led her to a pond I’d seen her find before. She sat next to the water with her cloak folded neatly next to her. She was waiting for me.
Her black hair flowed into the black of her shirt and . . . pants. I hadn’t noticed it before. A woman in pants.
Tight fucking pants.
What the fuck was she doing to me?
The moonlight reflecting off the water made her skin look like liquid gold, and yet her eyes . . . her emerald eyes were the most precious thing on her.
I lingered in the shadows, moving silently as I studied her. She wasn’t relaxed, though she pretended to be. Her shoulders were rigid, her hands resting on her knees but ready to move at the slightest sound. She wasn’t just waiting. She was hunting.
I didn’t show myself, but I stayed close, letting my voice carry on the breeze. “You’re back again, Winnie.”
She stiffened, her head turning slightly, just enough to catch my words without giving away her full attention. “Don’t call me that,” she snapped, her tone sharp and unforgiving.
I smiled, even though she couldn’t see me. “Your family is no concern of mine,” I said smoothly, addressing the thought weighing on her. “You don’t need to worry.”
Her voice hardened, cutting through the stillness. “Lest you forget, I’ve lived through your victims. I’ve seen the games you play. Tormenting a husband by killing his wife first. Chasing girls through the woods, letting them think they’re escaping you when we both know no one could outrun you.”
I cocked my head, weaving closer but keeping to the shadows. My movements were fluid, each step calculated to keep her guessing. “Oh, I love games,” I replied, my tone light, teasing. “But not against a family of witches. I’m not so arrogant that I don’t know my odds against that.”
She turned toward my voice, her jaw tightening.
“As long as you don’t tell them what I am,” I continued, my tone dropping slightly, “there’s no reason for you to worry.”
She stood, wiping her hands against her pants before putting her cloak back on.
“What do you know of the first vampire?” she asked suddenly, her words laced with frustration. The shift in topic caught me off guard.
“The first vampire?” I repeated, feigning disinterest. Her teeth clenched, and I had to fight the urge to laugh. Everything I did seemed to drive her mad.
“Did I stutter? Yes, the first vampire,” she hissed, her voice taut with annoyance.
I moved faster now, weaving through the trees, ensuring my steps were deliberate and just loud enough for her to hear. I stayed out of her reach, keeping the game alive.
“I know nothing of the first vampire,” I said, flying past her close enough that her hair stirred in the wind.
She spun around, but not fast enough. Her hands darted up, her sharp eyes scanning the woods for any trace of me.
“You’re a coward, August,” she called, her voice echoing.
I let out a low, amused laugh that rippled through the clearing, relishing the way her shoulders tensed at the sound.
She started walking toward the trees, away from where I was hiding. “How old are you?”
I watched as she nearly tripped over a fallen branch, shaking my head in silent amusement. She should’ve seen that. A simple spell could fix her vision.
“So many questions tonight, Winnie,” I teased.
Her exasperated sigh was as satisfying as her irritation. “ Well? How old are you?”
“Old enough.”
Her eyes snapped toward me, and for a brief moment, our gazes locked. She couldn’t see me clearly, but I could feel her suspicion, her curiosity. She was testing me, just as much as I was testing her.
“So you’re old, and yet you know nothing of the first vampire?”
I let my voice drop lower. “I know a witch created a vampire, which in turn created many more. But that’s all I know.” I moved closer as I spoke, circling her. “Why are you asking?”
She didn’t hesitate. “Because I want to kill him. Almost as much as I want to kill you.”
Her words brought a grin to my lips, sharp and full of promise. “Good. Keep that fire, Winnie. You’ll need it.”