Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 115432 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115432 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
“Do the spell,” he replied, returning the book to me.
“Didn’t you hear me? It won’t work right—”
“If I have the honor of being the very first and the only one you’ve ever written a spell for, then I wish to hear it from your lips, even if it goes awry,” he said, now smiling fully at me, and it was not fear. He looked effortlessly beautiful. How the hell was I to think, let alone not do what he said.
“Fine.” I took the book back from him. Taking a short inhale of breath before I read, “Monster, monster, stay longer, stay longer, shine bright all night, like the moonlight at midnight for a witch’s sight.”
I tensed, worried for a moment, then slowly, like increasing the light’s setting in a room, he began to glow, his skin getting brighter and brighter, to the point where it was almost too much to look at him.
“Ugh.” He grimaced.
“Are you all right?” I said quickly, panicked I had done something.
He laughed and rubbed the side of his head. “Yes, the spell is definitely not straightforward.”
“What? What else did I do?”
“Your memories,” he whispered, glancing over to me lazily. “I saw…I saw myself in your mind when you were a child. The one glimpse you got of me that day.”
“Really? Why?” I glanced down at the spell. There was nothing about memories added to it. Maybe I was overthinking when I wrote it? “Sorry.”
“Why would you apologize?” he asked, and I was relieved as the glowing started to fade. “I got to see myself as a hero through a child’s eyes. Such a thing is a rarity for me.”
“You are a hero, though.”
“No, I am merely selfish,” he said, rising from the ground. “Do not make the mistake of thinking me a hero, for you shall be very disappointed. I am a vampire, as I was then, until eternity. I saved you because your life was of special interest to me. Had it been any other child that day, I would not have blinked an eye.”
The mood between us shifted, the smile on his face from earlier now long gone, replaced with a cold mask, void of any emotion. Rising from the ground, I didn’t back away. “Then the only question I should ask is why? Why is my life of special interest to you? Why have you been with me all these years?”
“Fate and foolishness,” he said and disappeared.
My mouth dropped open. “That is not a real answer!” I yelled into the winds, knowing he would hear me. “I’ll be back here tomorrow, and I’ll ask again!”
* * *
I really did arrive the next day.
But he did not come.
So, I came again the next day, and still, he wasn’t there.
Nor was he there on the third day, either.
I tried not to think about it. He didn’t owe me anything. I had already said thank you to him for saving me as a child. I didn’t owe him anything, either. In fact, it was good we didn’t see each other again. What good would seeing each other do? I was a witch, and he was a vampire. I killed vampires. What were we supposed to become? Best friends? That was impossible. I’d already betrayed my coven enough by not killing him when he came onto our lands, and to make matters worse, I was actively shielding him.
Yep.
I wasn’t going to think about him. I was going to focus on what I always focused on—my work and my coven.
“This is the last one that is going to be displayed, right?” I asked Dr. Lovell as I applied the oil-based semi-matte finish over the portrait to minimize the glare.
“Brilliant job. I love the care you’ve taken with the necklace. You’ve brought out the multidimensional use of white,” he said, coming over to observe as I finished. “It takes a good eye for that.”
“Thank you.” I exhaled, a little bit proud of myself as I stepped back. “It was a little touch and go, but I’m pleased with it. I’ll get started on the other one tonight if you’d like.”
“We can start tomorrow. After all, someone owes me some research on Vermeer, and you should be getting started,” he all but sang.
“Yes. Yes. I know.” I rolled my eyes and moved to store the painting, stretching out my back after I did. I hadn’t realized how late it had gotten. I was so used to staying overtime to catch up on all my work.
Grabbing my keys and badge, I looked over to Dr. Lovell, who was still hunched over his desk, writing his notes, his glasses nearly off his nose.
“Good night, Dr. Lovell. Please try to get some food and sleep. You can’t beat Dr. Andreeva if you collapse.”
“Hmm!” He waved me off.
He did not hear a word I said.