Hunter's Soul (Yliaster Crystal Book 2) by Alex Rivers

Author:Alex Rivers [Rivers, Alex]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-05-27T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-One

Twenty minutes later, I left my bedroom, dressed in a long black V-neck dress. It was backless, and I wished my apartment was warmer as I felt the goosebumps materializing on my skin. I’d located a pair of high heels, which added a good five inches to my height. I also put on some mascara and lipstick. It felt weird, dressing up for a vampire, but I couldn’t ignore the thrum of excitement in my chest. Despite the cold, my face flushed as I stopped in the doorway, hand on hip.

It was satisfying to see Maximillian start in surprise, his eyes scanning me from top to bottom. He licked his upper lip distractedly.

“Now that’s an appetizing look,” he said.

“Let’s get this over with.” I glanced away from his piercing gaze. “Magnus, come here!”

Magnus wagged his tail and trotted over to me, casting a suspicious look at Maximillian.

“Get in,” I motioned to the bedroom.

He watched me, his ears flopping, and let out a small whine.

“I’ll be fine, get in.” I didn’t want him to try and nip Maximillian while he was drinking my blood.

Magnus’ tail curled between his legs, and he trudged into the bedroom, head low. I shut the door behind him. He scratched it once, and let out another whine.

I turned back to Maximillian and walked over, stopping inches from his chest, my breath shallow and fast. “Do it.”

“You’re forgetting one more thing.” He smiled, and gestured to the counter. I glanced over. He’d found my wineglasses, and had placed two on the counter, next to one of the potions I’d made for him. He now picked it up, and glanced at the label. “Type O-nion sauce. Ha! That’s actually funny. Because Type O is a blood type.”

“Yeah, I’m hilarious.”

He poured the potion into one of the wineglasses. It was dark red and smooth, completely opaque.

I picked up the glass. “Cheers.” I drank it all. The taste was metallic, and salty. I put down the glass, licking my lips. “It takes a few minutes to work.”

“We’ll wait then,” he said lazily. “So tell me. How did you become an alchemist?”

“My mother was an alchemist.” I was trembling a bit, and decided I was simply cold. “I guess I just ended up following her path.” I wasn’t about to get into the details. “Uh… how did you become a vampire? Is that a rude question to ask?”

“Not particularly.” He leaned on the counter, his face closer to mine. “I was a British poet—not a particularly good one. One night, I met a young woman. She was the first one to be truly fascinated with my poetry. Kept asking for me to read the same poems over and over…” His eyes shone and he smiled longingly. “She was so beautiful, and her entire focus was on me. How amazing that felt. For an aspiring poet to have a girl like that actually listen to his poems. She seemed to understand them deep down. In her very soul. I invited her to drink with me, and then, when it became really late, offered to escort her home.

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