Free Something Witchy (Mystics & Mayhem) by AJ Myers Page B

me with a wooden stake, all you would do is give me splinters and piss me off,” he said as one corner of his mouth turned up in a smile.  “I’m sure I’ll probably regret telling you this, but if you want to kill me, Ember, cut off my head, set me on fire, or drive something made of silver through my heart so it won’t heal and you’re good to go.  Other than that, good luck.”
    “What about the whole invitation only thing?” I asked, not even pausing.
    “Well, for the most part, that one’s actually true,” he said, leaning back again and giving me a look that had me wanting to melt like butter.  But I stayed strong.  Yeah, I know.  I’m proud of me, too. 
    “What do you mean, for the most part?” I asked, trying to sound stern and becoming disgusted when my voice came out all breathy instead.
    “Let’s just say there are loopholes to every rule,” he answered quietly, his eyes flickering to the cross he had given me before returning to my face.
    Scowling at that vague answer, I went back to racking my brain for vampire arguments.  Proving that he was a complete nut job was harder than I’d thought it would be.  I had gone over every last thing I could remember from every vampire story I had ever read and he had shot down all of them one by one.  But there was one thing he couldn’t get around.  If he was really a vampire, shouldn’t he have…?
    “Fangs!” I cried out triumphantly, sure I had finally found a point he couldn’t get around.  “You don’t have fangs so you can’t be a vampire.”
    “Wanna bet?”
    He smiled at me then— really smiled, not one of those half-assed jobs.  His teeth were sparkling white…right down to the two very sharp, curved canine teeth.  I stared at him with my jaw falling nearly to the ground.  He arched an eyebrow at my reaction and let his lips cover the evidence that I was either delusional or talking to a walking myth. 
    Personally, I voted for delusional. 
    “You could have had those done by some demented dentist,” I said, wincing when I heard how high my voice had gotten.
    “That definitely would have been an easier way to get them,” he said, nodding and smiling.  “Afraid I got mine the old-fashioned way, though.”
    “Yeah?  Prove it?” I told him, hating how scared I suddenly felt.  “ Can you prove it?  And biting me doesn’t count, in case you had that idea.  Even a geriatric could bite me with teeth a T-Rex would be proud of.”
    “Are you really going to make me do this?” he asked on a groan.  “Can’t you just take my word for it?”
    “That you’re the walking, talking undead?” I asked with a shaky laugh.  “Uh, let’s see… no !”
    With a deep sigh, he got to his feet and walked over to the counter next to the stove.  My whole body went rigid when he pulled the big Psycho-style butcher knife out of the wooden block.  His fist tightened around the handle and I saw my life flash before my eyes—and to be honest, it wasn’t all that interesting—as I tried to figure out what he was going to do.  I consoled myself with the thought that my mother was going to be really pissed when she had to clean up the blood left over after he cut out my heart and ate it in front of me.
    Ignoring the panic-stricken look on my face, Nathan took his seat again.
    “Do you have a towel?” he asked, arching an eyebrow at me.  “This is going to be a little messy.”
    “What are you planning on doing with that?” I demanded, my eyes still fastened on the gleaming blade of the knife.
    “What you asked me to do. I’m going to prove that I’m telling you the truth.”
    When I still didn’t move to get him the towel he’d asked for, he shrugged and raised the knife up high.  I screamed for him to stop, but it was too late.  He brought the knife down into the meaty part of his forearm and hissed with pain as it went all the way through—and buried itself in the granite countertop.  Then, just as quickly as