Snow's Soldiers: An Epic Paranormal Fantasy Series (Fairy Tales and Nightmares Book 1) by L.C. Hibbett

Author:L.C. Hibbett [Hibbett, L.C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ellesmere Publishing
Published: 2020-02-14T22:00:00+00:00

25

Salty the Vampire

Aria

Everyone except the gargoyle bastard was gathered around the oversized wooden dining table by the time I hauled my ass downstairs. Heather gestured for me to take the only empty place at the table. She handed me a plate as I slid into a chair between Janet and Professor Windsor. “Take everything you think you might possibly want to eat and put it on your plate before the savages devour it. There are never any leftovers when there are shifters in the house.”

“Not true,” Sven countered. The shifter speared a sausage from Heather’s plate with his fork and swallowed it in what appeared to be a single bite. He gave me a wink as he stole another sausage from Heather’s plate. “There would have been a whole table of leftovers if I hadn’t stopped you from cooking breakfast.”

“Watch it, fur face, or I’ll cook dinner tonight too.”

I smiled and filled my plate with scrambled eggs, cured ham, cheese, and fresh bread rolls, and watched with interest as Heather and Sven traded good-natured insults and what I hoped were empty threats.

“Would you care for a drink?” Professor Windsor’s polite voice dragged my attention from the squabbling on the other side of the table. I glanced in his direction, noting that while he was as immaculately dressed as always in a crisp white shirt and a navy suit that complimented the ring of dark blue around his violet irises, his cheekbones were smudged with fading bruises. Interesting. He cleared his throat and extended his arm toward a sideboard. “We have coffee, tea, or orange juice.”

I could have made a jibe about not accepting food from men who had already tried to drug me, but it seemed the fire of my anger toward the professor had cooled since my conversation with Heather. “Orange juice would be lovely, thank you.”

“My pleasure.” Professor Windsor’s frame seemed to relax slightly as he reached for the pitcher of orange juice and filled a tumbler. He handed me the glass and I took a gulp of the sweet liquid, suddenly realizing how thirsty I was. He watched me drain the tumbler before refilling it. “A side-effect of the Holy Water, I’m afraid,” he said, with an apologetical grimace. “I’ve been told the salt leaves a terrible thirst.”

Ah, yes, of course. Salty the vampire, at your service. I placed the now-empty glass on the table with a clink. Despite the juice, my mouth was as dry as the Sahara Desert. The professor filled the glass again and I drained it gratefully, but my tongue still felt like a dusty old slipper. What the hell was happening to me? I made to rise from my seat. “Maybe I should try drinking some water.”

Professor Windsor got to his feet and gestured for me to stay where I was. “Please, allow me.”

A worry surfaced and niggled at my brain as I watched him make his way around the dining table and through the arch into the tiny kitchen, but I pushed the thought away.

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