Page 5 of Blood Lovers

Because the spell is over.

The protection my grandma gave me with her magic, and the stolen magic of my mother, will die with her.

He must come for me.

He will hunt me to the ends of the earth.

He will hunt me, and find me, and capture me, and drink me.

Over, and over, and over again.

Until I am nothing but a frail woman, in a dirty nightgown, lying alone on a disgusting bed, in a room that smells like death.

Because if the old witch is dying, then he needs a new one.

This is my curse.

I am the vampire’s power.

I am the vampire’s strength.

I am the vampire’s food.

And he is very, very hungry.

CHAPTER TWO - PAUL

Die, witch. Just die already.

It is her.

The lavender ghost.

She is here as I push my way up from the ground, soil clinging to my naked body, mud caked between the claws on my toes and in the crevices of the webbing on my wings as I leave the cold, comforting earth and once again join the world above.

Two years I’ve been here in the dirt waiting for this moment. Trying my best to bide my time. And now, finally, all my waiting is over.

The little witch has dreamwalked right into my forest. I sense, rather than see, the lavender fog that comes with her dreamwalking. I sense her, as well. Can’t see her, of course. The old witch is strong with the Black magic that comes with her Black blood. Even now, as weak and frail as her body is, I can feel her power. From this long distance, even as the veil of death creeps over her, that power is persistent.

But it doesn’t matter anymore. The old witch is dying and that means I will see the little witch soon enough because when the old witch dies, so does her magic. Once that happens, things will quickly get interesting.

I am days—perhaps hours—away from seeing the face of my lavender ghost for the very first time. The one I have been waiting for.

I bet she is lovely. Her grandmother, wretched as she is in the present, was very, very nice to look at when she was a child.

I do so, so, so love beautiful things.

The sense of my lavender ghost fades before I’m even standing upright, but she was here. Looking for me, perhaps?

Oh, you eager thing, you. Little tease, aren’t you?

But oh, if I could only smell her. That sweet, sweet smell of untainted blood that rushes through her veins.

My mouth waters. It’s been two years since I last fed.

I stand in the forest and breathe like it’s my first breath ever. The air is misty and refreshing here in the Rocky Mountains. Even a monster such as myself can appreciate that.

It’s why I stay.