Page 38 of The Slayer Seduction

I wake up to clanking going on in the kitchen.

“No! Do not eat the mix!” Scarlett shouts in my head and I jump up.

There stands the Slayer, with Scarlett on the stool, his fingers coated in what looks to be pancake mix as they both turn over to glance at me.

“Sorry. I was trying to be quiet,” he says.

“What are you doing?”

“He’s making you breakfast in bed. Isn’t that romantic?” Scarlett says dreamily.

“Um…yeah,” I say, groggily getting out of bed and looking at the damage they’re doing in the kitchen.

It’s a mess, but it’s the thought that counts, plus magic makes messes so much easier. I flick my wand, clearing away all the flour, egg, and oil that’s splattered on the counter.

“Perhaps using the stove is further along in our modern day lessons,” I say, grabbing the bowl and taking over the pancake making operation.

“Then what shall we do today?” the Slayer says excitedly.

He seems almost fully healed, only his energy may still not be completely all there. The blood replenishing potions don’t work on him, so his body has been working hard to create new blood cells. With whatever ancient magic that healed his skin, I’d imagine he’s nearly there.

“I have some potions I need to make,” I tell him.

Though I leave out the part that it’s a sleeping potion for him so I can escape in the night, break into his family’s home, and steal the spell book that will send him back to where he came from.

“Can I help?”

“Sure,” I agree, though I’d much rather he didn’t. But I agreed to keep him busy. The more I keep him focused on menial tasks, the less damage he can do in the outside world.

The pancakes sizzle, and I wrap up breakfast. Scarlett eats a pancake before announcing she’s going on a hunt. When she leaves us alone, I can tell it’s a mistake.

Not only is the Slayer looking at me like he wants to eat me next, but I can tell the mention of a hunt on Scarlett’s behalf has him experiencing some sort of blood lust.

He grips the table, seemingly talking to himself.

“Uh. Are you okay?” I ask, his gaze meeting mine.

The table cracks as his grip tightens, and he makes a vibrating growling noise—that has no effect on me whatsoever.

“I have only ever been one thing. My mission is always clear, removing vampires from existence. The mention of the hu—no, I won’t say it. The word is a reminder of what I need to do, what every fiber of my being is begging me to do. I will not break our vow, I will be strong. For you, I’ll be anything.”

For a long moment, I stare at him, more guilt and doubt seeping in. He’s trying so hard to please me and he’s been respectful and patient while inside of my home.

“Would working on potions help distract you?”

“Yes,” he says quickly, and I lead him downstairs to my brewing space. I’m leaving the shop sign set as closed for the day. It would be too dangerous to let him around customers.

He looks around at my space with wonder, bending down and looking at ingredients, bottles, and supplies.

“Is all of this for magical purposes?” he asks, as he grabs a flimsy soap mold and holds it between two fingers and wiggles it in the air as if it has some sort of magical purpose.

“No. Half of it is for the things I make in the shop, the other half is for the coven.”

He goes to open a lid and I use my wand to promptly shut it. “Do not touch that. In fact, don’t touch any of the potions.”

The Slayer raises his arms in surrender, continuing his perusal of my space as I gather everything I need for the potion.

I’m grinding up the lavender as he comes behind me, his arms bracketing me as he grips the table, his body so close that I go shock still.