Page 11 of How to Dump a Vampire

Finally, I retrieve my box of polished spell stones from the mantle. I pick through the array of translucent crystals and marbled minerals, seeking eight each of two complementing colors. The stones feelpleasantly cool and grounding against my palms as I roll them between my fingers, enjoying their soothing energy.

With my materials assembled, I settle myself at the table and lose myself in crafting our makeshift checkers set. First, I mark out the grid pattern on the board using a ruler then begin carefully applying contrasting coats of paint to the squares.

The smell of the pigments mingles with lingering wood smoke in the air. I find myself breathing deeper, the familiar scents and focus required for the delicate work loosening the persistent knot between my shoulders. Creating with my hands has always calmed me and helps me find my sense of self again when the outside world grows overwhelming and strange.

As I turn the board to complete the alternating pattern, I feel Draven’s gaze on me from across the room. I don’t acknowledge him openly, but I slow my brush strokes, suddenly self-conscious under his silent scrutiny. What must he think of me, whiling away the snowy hours on childish diversions? Not exactly mysterious and enchanting behavior befitting a witch.

Shaking off the self-doubt, I square my shoulders and continue painting. So what if I indulge in simplearts and crafts? It centers my spirit in this chaotic, unpredictable world. I refuse to explain or defend my private passions, especially to a vampire interloper.

At last, the board is complete, two tones traversing the grid in perfect contrast. Setting it near the fire to dry, I turn my focus to the stone playing pieces. I inspect the stones, enjoying the way the firelight dances across their glossy surfaces.

Though crafted from mundane minerals rather than enchanted, these stones impart a subtle sense of calm and balance, their natural magic seeping gently into my skin. I handle each in turn, channeling my focus into imbuing the ordinary objects with intention—to bring distraction, levity, and fellowship for two isolated souls. A simple spell yet profoundly needed.

I quickly paint on the markings of the gods to the bottom of each piece and wait for them to dry.

Occupied with my crafting, I’m caught off guard when Draven appears at my elbow. “This game possesses quite an elaborate battlefield for mere child’s play,” he remarks, inspecting the painted board.

I resist the urge to cover it protectively and meet his gaze challengingly. “Deceptively so. Don’t assume it lacks sophistication based on familiarity.”

Draven’s lips quirk upward. “Point well taken,” he acknowledges. “I shall reserve judgment until you educate me on this mysterious game.’”

I nod in satisfaction and turn back to drying the stones, blowing on them gently with a hint of my magic to speed up the process.

He returns to his seat by the fire and opens his book. I can feel his gaze every time it glances my way, but I can’t let it get to me. Nothing is allowed to happen.Ignore the bond, Thorn.

With the painted checkers board dried and stones marked for my covert divination, I set the makeshift game atop the table. Though I crafted it as much for personal insight into my vampire guest as entertainment, I cannot deny a spark of eagerness to test my wits against Draven’s.

“The board is prepared. Are you ready?” I call over, feigning casual disinterest.

Draven lifts one brow in silent appraisal but closes his book and approaches. He studies the painted gridand stone pieces with an analytical eye, saying nothing.

Suppressing a flicker of annoyance at his haughty scrutiny, I launch into explaining the rules before he can make any disparaging remarks. “The gameplay is simple enough even for you to grasp,” I say pointedly. “We take turns moving diagonally to capture each other’s pieces and block advances. Whoever removes all their opponent’s stones wins. Understand?”

Draven blinks then flashes me an annoying smirk. “Straightforward, though I may need a practice round to get the hang of this treacherous battlefield.”

I purse my lips. He’s clearly trying to get under my skin. Well, I won’t give him the satisfaction of taking the bait.

“Then pay close attention to this first match,” I reply coolly, taking my seat.

After a dramatic pause, Draven settles across from me, moving smooth and graceful as a cat. I ignore how the firelight catches his sharp features.

“White stones go first,” I state, nudging one of the carved crystals forward.

Draven copies me, and we’re off.

We play in tense silence, the only sounds the periodic crackling fire and clacking stones. I notice Draven studies the board hard before each move, cautious and shrewd despite his casual vibe.

When he makes a surprise diagonal hop to nab two of my pieces, I mask my shock with effort.

“Not bad,” I bite out.

Draven’s mouth twitches. “Your generous praise overwhelms me.”

I nearly fire back a scathing retort but catch myself. The infuriating vampire is intentionally trying to throw me off. He will not mess with my focus.

But as we play on, keeping composure gets tougher. Draven keeps making annoyingly smart moves, predicting my strategy and dodging capture. That knowing glint in his silver eyes fans my temper.

We both reach for pieces at the same time, hands barely brushing. I jerk back instinctively from the electric sparks that brief contact ignites. Draven’s nostrils flare, but he stays silent, just scanning the board again.

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