His Little Hunter

Chapter 12

“Oh don’t glare at me like that. It’s been years since we last saw each other. You’re finally back home, that’s plenty of reason to be happy.” Alistair said with a smirk, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement.

He hadn’t changed even a bit despite all the time that had passed but that was to be expected. He was a vampire after all, an abomination. Once their kind reached a certain age, they froze into their appearances, never again aging no matter how much time passed. Alistair was more than 5 centuries old but didn’t look a day over 35.

The vampire’s dark hair was slicked back, without a single strand of hair out of place. It was the hairstyle I’d always known him with and on more than one occasion I’d wondered how much gel was used to get the hair that way. I imagined it would be rock solid if touched.

A black leather jacket had been thrown over his large body, a black shirt underneath with a matching pair of tight, shiny leather trews. As always, his fashion sense was questionable.

“Bastard.” I spat the word out with as much malice as I was capable of mustering. His humoured expression vanished almost instantly, the ridges of his face instantly hardening.

“A few years away and you’ve lost your manners. No worries, I’ll be happy to reteach you everything again. STEP BY STEP.”

His threat sent a wave of panic coursing through me but I masked it. Even though the traumatised little girl in me cowered at the prospect of what he could do and the pain he could inflict, the hunter in me refused to let him see that weakness. She refused to be that same weakling he once trampled all over.

I was strong now. I’d killed countless numbers of his kind. My name was feared among them. I was not the same girl from back then and even though I was bound, what were a few chains that I couldn’t escape?

This wasn’t my first rodeo with a captive situation. And even if I couldn’t get out myself, the association was bound to come looking for me.

Rather than cower at his threat, I laughed. A loud hearty sound that only grew in pitch when I noticed the look of perplexion plastered on his face.

“Sadly you haven’t changed at all. You still talk an awful lot for a mere henchman.” I mocked and his eyes flared, brown irises bleeding to a deep red. “Tell me, who are you working for this time since I killed your last master?”

I was treading on dangerous grounds. I knew that. Alistair was a male of little esteem and anyone who’d had the displeasure of meeting him knew how much the male craved power and authority. Things he knew he could never possess. He compensated for his lack by oppressing those weaker than him and at some point in time, that had been me.

The pain I’d endured in his hands was immeasurable.

“Shut your trap!” He hissed, his eyes flashing that vampiric colour. Like any other fragile, weak male, Alistair was quick to anger but at that moment I didn’t care if he was getting angry. I was enjoying his reactions too much to stop. It felt so good to be the one doing the taunting for once.

“Oh, did I hit a nerve? I imagine it must be a sore spot for you. Despite how much you crave power, you’re too weak and irrelevant to ever do anything on your own, always forced to work under someone else to have even the slightest glimmer of importance. I’d be pissy too if I had to live like that.”

I realised my taunting had gone a bit too far when he’d unlocked the cell and stormed towards me, yanking me up by the collar of my shirt.

“Say that again to my face, slave.” He hissed, almost spitting on my face in the process.

“Which part? The one where I called you weak or the part about how irrelevant you are?” I spat back with bravado that was slowly dwindling.

His jaw ticked and the veins in the side of his head looked ready to explode. For a moment I questioned my decision to taunt him but all the years of pain and torture I’d endured in his hands and his former master’s spurred me on.

What was the worst he could do anyway?

Hit me? What was a little pain compared to what he’d done to me in the past already? There was almost nothing of substance left of me thanks to him. He’d contributed greatly to carving out the empty shell that was my person now.

“To hell if I sit here and listen to a f*****g blood w***e mock me.”

I don’t know what came over me but the moment he’d uttered the words ‘blood w***e’ my vision turned red. That demeaning title that accurately described what I’d been forced to become in the hands of him and his master. The title that reminded me of everything I wished to forget. It enraged me.

I wanted to strike him, to gut him, to cause him pain somehow but there was little I could do with the resistance the shackles on my wrists and legs offered. So instead I spat in his face.

The wet spot on his cheek brought a smile to my lips but that smile quickly disappeared when I saw him draw his fist back.

Right, quick to anger meant quick to get violent. I shut my eyes in anticipation of what was to come.

A blow to my face landed shortly after, my head whipping to the side at the force of the impact. Another one landed shortly after and this time I tasted metal. I’d bitten my tongue. I struggled, wanting desperately to hit back but I couldn’t. No matter how hard I tried, the chains wouldn’t budge. He continued to pummel my face, his eyes crimson with his fury.

I was in pain, my vision danced and I sensed I was nearing the point of losing consciousness but somehow it felt worth it. Even though I now suffered for the fury I’d stoked, I couldn’t help the feeling of satisfaction I felt knowing I’d gotten under his skin this much. Though that was an easy feat with males like him and their weak egos.

To my surprise, his fists ceased their assault sooner than I’d expected and his grip on me was released. No longer held up by him, my body crumpled to the ground, pain shooting up my body as I landed.

One of my eyes was swollen shut from his assault but through the other one, I peeked Alistair’s body hovering off the ground, his throat tightly clasped in the hand of a new visitor. The moment I laid my one good eye on the visitor, recognition set in instantly and all of a sudden the events that led to me passing out came crashing down on me in a wave.

The royal. He’d knocked me out. He must’ve been the one to bring me here. And now he was currently strangling the bastard Alistair.

Were they not on the same team?

One thing was certain now though, the royal targeted me because of HIM. I had no idea what the connection was between the two royals but there was definitely one and I feared I would find out soon enough.

“I warned everyone to steer clear of this place, did I not?”