The air seemed to bring on a chill as you stepped out of the humid summer night and into the secluded, old house that nuisance of a vampire lived in. You’d gone into many of these houses to hunt vampires down, yet there was always more. Some lived off animal blood and only took a human life a few times a year. The arrogant ones—most of them—hunted as they desired until someone like you drove a silver bullet into their chest.

The resident of this house was the most arrogant you’d ever encountered. Rhys was his name. He fed off humans weekly, carried himself with that conceited attitude, and most infuriating of all, he constantly evaded his end in each of your encounters.

You wished you could confidently say today would be the last night you stepped into his home, but as you felt the invisible presence circle around you when you entered the living room, you knew it wasn’t. It always went like this. Rhys saw you for more than a brutal hunter and he didn’t fear you. And despite your better judgment, you weren’t as wary as you should be. You stopped bringing your silver lined weapons around him, after all, and you held enough trust in him to know he wouldn’t kill you.

The antique mirror above the fireplace revealed nothing, but he was there. You felt the slender fingertips trailing over your shoulder, around the nape of your neck, tracing down your spine, and the chin leaning on your opposite shoulder, lips dangerously near where he’d feed from.

“Back so soon, hunter? I haven’t even hungered yet,” Rhys cooed with a mocking laugh, stepping away from you to trail his icy hand down your arm. You refused to turn to see his face, even closing your eyes as he circled you again. “You’re lucky I like you… so rich and sweet. That insolence of yours would’ve gotten anyone else killed.”