Page 7 of Bewitched (Hexes and Fangs: Holiday Editions #1)

"E very single detail!"

He smiles. His white teeth showing off those annoying fangs.

Sitting on the table, his elbow brushes against my arm.

I press my finger to the blood on the end of my blade.

His blood. I could preserve and add something to it, to kill him more easily.

I could sew a doll, coat it with his blood, and torture him by stabbing the doll with heated needles.

"Well…" The vampire pulls out the lace from his pocket and twirls it between his fingers.

I launch the knife, a precision strike to his thigh.

The blade bites through his black pants, connecting with flesh.

"Ouch!" he raises an eyebrow at me. No discomfort, no daring jumps. Looking disappointed. Bored by my action. I grab the thong from his hand and loop it around the weapon’s handle.

"Start talking!"

"Hot."

"Start talking, bat boy!" I apply pressure with my hand on the grip, penetrating deeper into his leg. Do I need to toss in some salt to make him speak?

"Bat boy…" his hand envelops mine, pressing down. "That’s what this tattoo signifies." He hoists my blood-stained hand and places it on his neck. Smearing his own blood on the wings of the bat inked into his skin. "The last words someone said to me before I killed him."

Is he out for my blood?

Coexisting under a fragile truce, the magic kept the two worlds separate.

Their craving for witches grew. Using them for pleasure and their strong blood.

With each drop their strength multiplied.

The balance shattered, igniting an unstoppable cycle of vengeance.

Witches cursed their own blood, twisting it into poison, weakening the immortal bodies.

Hatred festered, growing deep between the two species.

The vampires hunted down every witch they could find, draining their blood, feeding it to the ground.

Vampires hunting witches. The witches becoming hunters of vampires.

The young were raised on tales of slaughter, forbidden to speak of peace.

Until one night, under the red eclipse, a witch and a vampire met by chance.

Their destinies entangled into love. Generations passed, and the hatred turned to legend.

However, we train with precision to bring them down.

Their quest for blood remains relentless.

A fragile red thread binds us to this unyielding war.

Murder isn’t strictly off-limits, as souls lingered like shadows between us.

"I killed him because he aimed to hunt you.

To use you like prey, draining your blood for his own dark pleasure.

" His voice is more of a whisper. Set to prowl, stalking your dreams. "He acted possessed.

His conversations swirled around you. He dreamed about you.

Cravings consumed him, hungry for your presence.

Neither of us bothered with any of it. But… "

"Again… I can stand up for myself against idiots!" I move two paces away from him, but he grabs my wrist.

"You can show appreciation with actions if words are too difficult for you to use." A smile spreads across his face, revealing fangs as sharp as spikes.

I grab the knife’s handle and twist the blade in his leg. "I just did!" I haul it up and wipe the blood on his jeans.

I keep moving toward the front of the store.

As the sun begins its playful dance between the wooden blinds, light streams in, casting striped shadows across the walls.

Illuminating the jars filled with different candies.

I kneel on the floor and begin to gather the shards that previously made up one of my favorite jars.

"You’ll..."

The glass slides over my finger. Cutting a straight line into the skin. Caught in my tissue, I feel a sting and blood already collects around the tiny piece. Cold sweat drapes my brow, and I look up at him. Shit! Blood and a vampire… Shit! Shit!

He takes out a cigarette, placing it between his lips.

With a flick of his thumb, he ignites it using a metal lighter.

He lowers himself in front of me and clutches my hands in his.

The smoke escapes from his lungs, gradually flowing from the edge of his lips.

And I remember him saying: "It halts my craving. "

His, maybe… but the front door swings open with a bang, and the other one storms back into the shop. One of the carved pumpkins rolls over the ground.

First, my jar, now my Jack-O'-Lantern too. Seriously?!

The ghost smiles. His pale gray shade allows you to see right through him.

Towering in front of us, his hands are clenched into fists.

Two darkened sockets are where his eyes once were, dried blood smudged under them.

His neck skin bears chain marks on it, and I see Nox arching an eyebrow at his form.

So… that is how he killed him. I stand up, Nox following my movements.

"I think you two have unfinished business to discuss," I tell them.