Page 14 of Vampire Runner

“I’m sorry, Ashe.”

Fury at Cassandra’s words floods me, so swiftly I can’t contain it. It’s all-consuming, breaking free after festering over a fucking century. I whirl on her, snarling, my fangs long and bared.

“I’m so fucking sick of you telling me you’re gods-damned sorry, Cassandra.”

In an instant, I’m in front of her. I grip her throat with one hand, forcing her to look up at me, while I pin her wrists to the small of her back with the other. My nails threaten to turn sharp and press into the soft, thin skin, on the verge of drawing blood. Her pulse flutters against my palm like a caged bird, but I’d moved too fast for her to react.

Her nostrils flare and her pupils widen. The scent of her fills me but does nothing to quell the beast I’ve become.

I crush my mouth to hers, biting sharply at her lower lip until she gasps. I consume her, pressing my tongue into her, tasting her with a frenzy of a starved man. Just as quickly, I pull back. My chest heaves as my gaze clouds red, reveling in Cassandra’s dazed expression.

I force her head to the side. Then I’m burying my fangs in her neck. Right on top of her siren song of her pulse, ready to drown.

1865

Ashe

If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were following me, Mr. Halford.”

I close the short distance between me and the black-haired beauty I haven’t been able to stop thinking about since I met her a week ago. I keep my hands in my pockets, otherwise I’m afraid I’d reach out just to feel her skin against mine. The memory of her in my arms, her warmth against my chest, her scent in my nose, has haunted my nights. Even now my fangs tingle with the need to sink into her, to drink her heart’s blood and claim her as mine.

“Can a man not look through the wares of the market without being accused of such?” I ask, my tone teasing. The village square is lined with stalls, many vendors already packing up for the evening. Malachi and Kasar are speaking with the gunsmith of the town, and I nod when Kasar looks over at me. Josephine is chatting animatedly with the baker’s wife as the woman wraps up the large order Josephine had placed the day before.

Cassandra smirks, amber and hazel eyes flashing with amusement. Today, her black hair is braided in a crown around her head, tendrils already escaping to frame her face. She wears a yellow blouse with a white pinafore apron tied around her waist. “Considering you’ve never come to town before now?”

I shrug, unable to take my eyes from her. Cassandra raises a brow, the smirk shifting to a knowing smile. It’s true. Usually, I don’t bother coming into town, preferring duties that take me in the woods. My siblings are the ones who tend to handle the trips into Willow Creek.

Cassandra tilts her head, studying me. “Have you had dinner yet, Mr. Halford?”

I incline my head. “I have not.” No doubt she means the food a witch or human eat. But my heart races and my fangs and cock throb at the idea of her arching her neck and offering me her blood.

She hums, her smile widening. “Would you care to have some with me tonight then?”

A woman walking by gasps, no doubt at the audacity of a woman asking a man to dinner. Even here in such a small, secluded town, modern rules of society reign. What would the woman think if she were born in my time, when men and women worked side by side? Or when sex was nothing but what a male and female did to find pleasure and procreate? There was no taboo in pleasure, but now, heavens forbid a woman own her desires.

I eye Cassandra. No doubt the witch wouldn’t ascribe to modern beliefs when it comes to passion. She would not simply lie on her back, her legs spread, and allow her body to be used for the sake of a man. No, my witch would be demanding, the fire in her eyes would spread throughout her body and she’d command her own blaze.

I long for her to burn me.

“I would be honored, Cassandra,” I reply. I’d love to see her eyes flare with anger and perhaps even a hint of arousal at my use of her given name in a public setting.

Her smile softens, her expression full of a feminine confidence that draws me in. “Good,” she declares and turns, gesturing for me to walk beside her.

I fall in step with her, enjoying the way she doesn’t match her pace to mine. Instead, Cassandra keeps a brisk pace, her skirts swishing around her ankles with her movements.

“No Lily Dancer today?” she asks as we grow further away from the main square. I could race to her house in less than a minute with my enhanced speed, but that would reveal my true nature to the humans behind us and threaten the Nightshades’ place here in Willow Creek. If I’m honest, though, I want as much time as possible with this woman. I’d walk slower if I didn’t think she’d tell me to hurry up.

“Why? Are you worried you’ll trip again?” I tease, remembering how she’d tumbled into the road. Before she can do more than gasp in outrage, I duck my head down towards her ear and whisper, “Don’t worry, I’ll catch you before you fall. Or, perhaps, I’ll let you fall just to have an excuse to have you in my arms again.”

I straighten, amusement flooding through me as I continue to amble down the dirt road towards the forest path she lives down. Cassandra is still frozen in place, and when I chance a look back at her, she’s gaping at me. When our eyes meet, she turns the most becoming shade of red.

Cassandra huffs and begins marching towards me again. “Don’t tease a witch,” she warns, her tone a mix of playful and serious. “Or I’ll turn you into a toad.”

I cock a brow, grinning. “A toad? Why not something more creative? Like a frog?”

She stops beside me, her arms crossed, and she narrows her eyes at me. “Are frogs and toads not the same thing?”

“Most definitely not,” I insist. “Though I can see why a witch from New York would be confused.”

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