Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 80563 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80563 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
“You can choose where we go. Obviously,” I say.
“If we stay in Thorne Hill, we have exactly two choices: Taco Bell or Steak and Shake. A burger and fries sounds good right now. And a milkshake.” She pulls at the strings of her cloak. “Are you, uh, hungry?”
“I already ate,” I say, not going into detail. She nods and looks at me curiously before turning and putting one foot on the porch step.
“You can come in.” She picks up the large, leather bound book and goes inside, leaving the door open for me to follow behind. “I’m going to change,” she says and goes through the kitchen to the stairs. She runs up them, and I can hear her walking around above me.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. It’s Eliza, and I’m sure she’s wondering where I am.
“Finally,” she says when I answer.
“This is the first time you’ve called.”
“I’ve been wondering this whole time if you were dead.”
“You’d feel it if I were,” I remind her. “Just as I’d feel it if you died.”
“Don’t talk like that,” she spits. “Are you with her?”
“The witch?” I ask, speaking in French and not English anymore. I’m going to go out on a limb and assume Callie doesn’t speak French.
“Yes, the witch,” Eliza answers, speaking French now too. She spent time in the French countryside growing up, but wasn’t fluent in the language when I turned her. Having not been allowed to learn how to read or write as a human, I made it a point to learn as many languages I could in my afterlife, and pushed Eliza to do the same.
“I’m taking her out to dinner.” I walk through the kitchen and into the living room.
“Like on a date?”
“Yes, a date.”
“Be careful,” Eliza pleads. “I don’t want to lose you and we both know how much witches hate us.”
“Callie is different,” I tell her, though I’m not able to put my finger on exactly how she’s different. She just is.
“Just…be careful. Think with your head and not your dick for once.”
The stairs creak as Callie comes down. She’s wearing another black dress, but it’s much different than the other one. This one is low cut, showing off her perfect tits. I watch with hunger in my eyes, as her breasts bounce as she comes down the stairs. Her hair is swept away from her face in soft curls, and her eyes light up the whole damn room.
“Wait out the sun at my house, if you’d like,” I tell Eliza. “And I’ll see you in the morning.”
“I better fucking see you,” she snaps. “I’m going to be so pissed if you die.”
“I’d hope for nothing less.”
I end the call and pocket my phone, checking Callie out once again. “Black is your color, Callie.”
“It goes with everything,” she says, brushing off the compliment. “Ready?”
“Always.” I speed over to her. She grabs her purse and we head out the door. The black cat comes with us, jumping off the porch and shifting into what looks like a black shadow. Huh. So that’s what he really looks like when he’s not posing as a cat.
“You got a new car?” Callie asks, looking at the black Range Rover in her driveway.
“I’ve had that one for about a year now.” I unlock it and open the door for Callie. “I almost forgot I had it. I’ve acquired a great deal of material items over the years.”
“Makes sense. Sixteen hundred years is a long time to have to, uh, collect and save.”
I passed by the restaurant on my way here and don’t need directions to get there. This town is small, and easy to navigate. It’s late—for humans that is—and we’re seated right away. Callie puts in her order and the waitress is too busy eyeing me to realize it’s odd for a human to decline food. She’s walking away from the table when she pauses, looking back at me and wondering if I’m a vampire.
“And now she’s wondering if you’re a vampire,” Callie says with a half smile. I reach across the table and take her hand in mine. She’s so warm and her skin is so soft. I gently turn her wrist over and trace the blue veins with my finger.
“Do I smell different?” she asks. “Because I’m a witch?”
Witch blood smells like human blood. It’s the magic we can sense, and there’s something more than witchcraft coming from Callie. “No. You smell different for another reason.”
“Well, as long as it’s not bad, I’m fine with it.”
Slowly, I run my fingers from her wrist to the palm of her hand. A shiver works its way through her. “Why were you at my bar last night?” I let go of her hand and look back into her eyes.
“I was in the area.”
“But why?”
She looks down at the table, and I can see the conflicting emotions playing out on her face. “I wanted to see what it would feel like to go back. I told you, I hadn’t been there in years.”