Halfway Bitten
“He didn’t walk, he strolled toward us as if he hadn’t a care in the world, even batting aside a marauding vampire with a casual backhand that sent the lesser being whistling through the air like a toy. His eyes simmered with malevolent intelligence, and I noticed that he was clad in fine woolen breeches and a vest over his pale flesh. He looked decidedly old-fashioned in the way of a merchant, or a well-to-do settler, right down to the silver buckles on his black boots. Even his accent was vagu...ely uppercrust, leaving it easy for me to dislike him on sight.
He awarded us with a patronizing smile. “This could have all been avoided, of course, if you’d merely let us conduct our business and move on.” His tone was that of a disappointed father, and I felt myself bristle at the idea he could know anything about the McEwan witches.
“You mean kill and feed on our land? I don’t think so, buddy.” My voice was edged in steel, and Gran merely laughed.MoreLess
He awarded us with a patronizing smile. “This could have all been avoided, of course, if you’d merely let us conduct our business and move on.” His tone was that of a disappointed father, and I felt myself bristle at the idea he could know anything about the McEwan witches.
“You mean kill and feed on our land? I don’t think so, buddy.” My voice was edged in steel, and Gran merely laughed.MoreLess
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