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The gift to kill anything I touch.
It’s one I had to learn to control, of course. And it’s one that very few know about, or else I’d be a threat to the stability of the Houses. So I rarely use it.
And when I do, I injure the body to make it look like my victim was killed by other means.
Like the bear shifter outside… I recall cutting his throat after he was already dead.
Frowning, I look down to where I stained my suit when I’d been startled. His death had an unpredicted side effect, one where I heard his soulscream.
That was new. I neverheardthe dead.
Glancing at the hall where the witchling went, I suspect she had something to do with that.
Hmm, some memories are returning. That’s a good sign.
But not all the memories surface right away.
Darker histories of those times I couldn’t control my death touch linger somewhere under the heavy netting of the witchling’s spell. I selfishly allow them to remain there, a part of me recognizing that it’s a burden I have dealt with all my life.
I lost those important to me.
I killed them and guilt festered inside my soul—but for the first time, it’s out of reach. Grief that often consumes me is momentarily quelled.
Maybe that’s a good thing.
A little reprieve won’t hurt.
I’m a vampire of opportunity, if my broken memory serves. This is one like any other to help me refocus.
I may stay a little while and see what else this little witchling can do for me.
I know she’s dangerous, but that only excites me more.
I do love a challenge.
A click on the other end of the phone informs me that the witchling hung up the call.
So, she can dish out silence but can’t take it.
Noted.
She storms into the room a moment later, holding a knife.
My cock throbs at the sight of her in a shimmery, two-part dress that hugs her curves. It leaves her abdomen bare, enticing me to dip my tongue into her adorable belly button.
And then go lower…
She snaps her fingers, once again demanding my attention on her face, not her delicious assets.
Fine by me.
She has a striking face, one that could cause wars if word got out about her. Because I suspect she’s powerful, too, or else I wouldn’t be sitting in her chair with my dick saluting.
Because memory or no, I know I have never seen her before.
She’s a treasure kept hidden from the world, and the apprehension and fear in her silver eyes tell me all I need to know.
She was betrayed once before and she isn’t going to let it happen again.
