“I hesitated on the doorstep.
When he realized, he said, “I won’t hurt you. I promise.”
I looked into those bright-blue eyes. Eyes that weren’t human. Was that why they were so entrancing? And could I trust him? Should I trust him?
“Please, Nike. Come in. All I want to do right now is protect you from harm. Not be the cause of it.”
He looked so sincere and I wanted to believe him. Did he truly care about me? Or was he just luring me in? “I’m a fool to go into a house with someone who admitted thirst for human blood. But I suppose I don’t stand much more chance out here either.”
“I confided in you, Nike. That’s not something I would do unless I had feelings for you.”
The cynical part inside of me said it’s easy to confess when you know you’ll silence the listener. But a much bigger part of me wanted nothing more than to be alone with him in this cottage.
He opened the door to a welcoming living room with a basket of afghans next to a sofa and another one in between two Victorian chairs.
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