17
DAWN
Era thrusts his hips again, seeking me, wanting me, but I pause — I need to think.
“I’m not a witch,” I say.
“You don’t have to be practicing to be a witch. Witch blood runs in your veins.”
Draynor shakes his head, his hand still gripping my ass, though with less intensity. Just holding me. Worried. “How is that possible? Witches … hate vampires.”
“So do hunters,” Era says. “But Dawn’s a hunter, too. Her mother was half hunter, half witch. And Dawn’s mother knew how far vampires would go to destroy both witches and hunters. Being both, it was only a matter of time before Dawn became a target.”
What the f**k? The walls feel too close, the air too thin. I was just getting used to the idea that my mother knew about our hunter blood — she had the knife, always tried to shield me
