Page 7 of Crimson Devotion
But I noticed it immediately.
Of course I fucking did.
“It’s useless.’’ My voice is even, flat, with a hint of authority. I lean against one of the pillars, the cold wind causing my hair to fall down my back. “I’ve heard you. And now, because I’m curious, I’ll give you a minute to decide whether you’ll reveal yourself. If you don’t, you’ll be dead within the next three minutes. Choose wisely.’’
Their footsteps come to a halt, and for a couple of seconds, there’s silence. Except for the rapid beating of their heart that reaches my ears. Blood is pumping in their veins, and the hunger that washes over me is nearly impossible to subdue.
After another beat of silence, the leaves rustle from thesides, the trees swaying as they step forward. My brows narrow, and I can’t help but tilt my head to the side, inspecting the pest that dares to set foot on my property.
It’s a woman.
Shorter than me, with long hair that’s neatly tied in a ponytail. What catches my attention is the way her shirt clings to her body, her muscled, toned arms flexing as she clenches something in her hand.
A smirk tugs at the corner of my lips.
“A hunter.’’
“You must be Ophelia.’’
My eyebrows lift to my hairline, a genuine, amused smile on my lips. I step forward, my feet carrying little to no weight, making no sounds. There’re still a couple of feet of distance between us, and she seems eager to close it.
“My, my, how unexpected,’’ I muse. “It’s been two centuries since someone has addressed me by my first name. Especially a mere human. How…cute.’’
Her lips thin into a line, and she’s clearly unhappy with the mockery in my tone. She steps forward, holding the stake tightly in her hands. An almost defiant look flashes through her expression, annoyance radiating off her.
“You don’t know who I am,’’ she states, voice low. “But I do know who you are.’’
“Fantastic.’’ I smirk. “Mind telling me why you’ve decided on this act of bravery?”
Her jaw clenches tightly, the grating of her teeth reaching my ears. Another step forward, and I’m thrilled about the amount of confidence — perhaps arrogance — that she’s displaying. The distance between us starts lessening, and the rush of excitement that rushes through my body is almost impossible to ignore.
“You killed my parents, Ophelia.’’
I lift an eyebrow, folding my arms in front of my chest. “Quite possibly.’’
“Quite possibly,’’ the woman repeats, slowly, almost caught off guard by my simple response. “No guilt? Nothing?”
“I’m a vampire, Miss Hunter. I drink human blood to survive. It’s only natural that there would be casualties here and there.’’
“You have the ability to eat from them, then heal them.’’
“Yes, but by healing them, they turn into blood vessels. And I don’t need that kind following behind me. Quite tedious, if you ask me. Having all those humans desperate for my attention. Clinging to me as if I’m the second coming of Christ is rather annoying.’’
Her pretty aqua eyes widen with something I could only describe as shock. Her mouth parts and then closes. She’s taken aback by my responses, and I’m not sure why. I’m a vampire — humans are beneath me. They’re nothing more than food. Why would I ever care about their silly little lives?
She takes another step forward, and the wind blows. The same scent I smelled earlier fills my nostrils, and it’s difficult to focus on anything else. It’s such an odd feeling. It makes it worse that for a split second, and I can swear my heart starts beating.
Which is impossible.
I’m dead.
My heart hasn’t been beating for the past five hundred years. There’s no blood there for it to suddenly start beating, and for a moment, that’s all I can focus on. I’ve forgotten what it felt like to be human — to be alive. Yet the feeling of something beating against my ribcage does not falter. In fact, it’s growing stronger with each passing moment, intensified the more this hunter starts walking toward me.
My breathing is shallow, and something is preventing me from moving. Now, she’s standing a couple of inches away from me. And I can see her face perfectly.
Her bright blue eyes are big, round, with a small birthmark on her left eyelid. Her thick, dark lashes are curled, nearly to perfection. She has a couple of scars all over her face — small ones, but they simply add more to her beauty.
I take a deep breath through my nose, and that’s the fatal mistake. The smell of lavender is stronger than ever; the fresh scent mixed with something that’s uniquely this woman is hard to ignore.
