Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 49441 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 247(@200wpm)___ 198(@250wpm)___ 165(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49441 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 247(@200wpm)___ 198(@250wpm)___ 165(@300wpm)
Incredibly, though not unexpectedly, there was nothing to stop me from moving inside.
Sure, she had the bell above the door, a little trick to likely keep the nosy, judgmental, deceased former tenant or landlady out of her apartment.
It did nothing to keep me out, though.
I moved inside, not sure what I was expecting.
Human style was an ever-evolving thing. So much so that I didn’t even care to notice it much anymore.
But Miss Caulderone’s apartment stuck out to me precisely for the utter lack of style.
Bare white walls, bare windows, save for the blinds that had likely come with the apartment. No rugs. No art. No knickknacks.
Just a pile of unopened packages.
And a cauldron sitting on top of the stove, still smelling faintly of cinnamon and sugar from one of the spells she hadn’t bothered cleaning up after.
I moved inward, expecting the pile of blankets on the couch to pop up, to notice my presence. But she stayed cocooned in her nest, likely fixated on the program playing on the TV that featured two unnaturally attractive people speaking stilted romantic lines to each other.
“I left your tip on the app. Thanks,” she called from her blanket fort, at least having the presence to notice someone was still in her apartment.
Truly, the lack of concern for her personal safety was shocking. Even if times had evolved, and there were no longer roving clans of men stealing through villages to assault and murder them anymore, there was still danger for women of all sorts. Their one true predator. Men.
And, of course, vampires they accidentally invited into their apartment.
As if sensing my train of thought, the lumpy pile of blankets shifted as she reached for something under the couch.
Then froze.
Likely sensing that whatever she was reaching for would do no good against me.
All of a sudden, the pile of blankets shot off of the couch, then slid to the floor.
Leaving Roxanne Caulderone standing there staring at me.
She was not, as anticipated, old, gray-haired, and stooped.
In fact, she was young, blonde, and beautiful.
Her blonde hair was cut just above her shoulders, mussed from lounging, and framing a heart-shaped, feminine face. It was dominated by large green eyes and pouty cherry lips.
Her body was compact. Short and round around the chest, hips, and thighs, but she wasn’t holding evidence of the dozen or so bags of empty chip bags that were scattered all across her coffee table and floor.
She was stunning.
“You really should be more careful about who you invite into your home, Miss Caulderone.”
She shook off her shock, her sage eyes narrowing at me.
“I was expecting a delivery,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.
We will pretend I did not notice the way the movement made her chest press together under the material of her tank top.
As if sensing that train of thought, she grabbed for something on the couch, producing a comically oversized hooded sweatshirt, and wrestling it on until it completely engulfed her small frame.
“Is there something wrong with your legs?” I asked.
“I tip extra so I don’t have to go downstairs,” she said, angling her chin up. “What are you doing here? Vampires don’t like to feed off of witches.”
That was… mostly true.
Due to protection measures through many generations of wiccan ancestors, their blood typically tasted charred and inedible.
Though there were some newer witches who didn’t acquire their magic through genes, that tasted like the seasons. Sweet like the first kiss of spring. Bright and clear as a summer sky. Rich and heady like a fall storm. Crisp and refreshing like fresh-fallen snow.
Though you had no way of knowing without taking a bite.
I couldn’t help but wonder what Miss Caulderone would taste like. My best guess was something thick and sweet like July honey.
Even as my mind drifted there, though, the umami scent of the Chinese food met my nose again, making my stomach cramp with hunger.
Right.
Back to the issue at hand.
“I have an arrangement to discuss with you.”
“Oh, cool. Well, I’m not interested. So please leave my Chinese food there and see yourself out.”
“I’m afraid that is not how this is going to go,” I informed her.
Before she could react, I was across the room, wrapping an arm around her waist and sealing my hand over her mouth, then rushing back out of her apartment building.
To a human, it would have looked like a flash of movement in their peripheral vision, something that made their stomachs drop and had them turning to inspect further.
But by the time they turned their heads, I would already be long gone.
I didn’t slow until I was in the back of my town car with a squirming witch on my lap, creating a rather… bothersome friction that in no way had desire sparking through my system.
“Drive,” I demanded of the driver.
It was time for Roxanne Caulderone to fix the curse that had been eating away at my immortality for a generation.