Fangs and Fur- Beta Read Along
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Dili jerked her face away from his icy touch. “Put some clothes on.”
“Why? Does this—” he gestured down his naked form “—distract you from your righteous anger?”
“It distracts me from taking you seriously,” she snapped, keeping her eyes fixed on his face.
Toad meowed loudly and pawed at the vampire’s ankle. The vampire glanced down, then sighed dramatically.
“Fine. Your familiar insists I behave.” He strode over to where his clothes lay folded on a flat rock, giving Dili a prolonged view of his sculpted backside.
She turned away from the unnecessary display, arms crossed. She was relieved to hear the vampire call Toad “her familiar,” but that meant little compared to the blood magic contract between the two.
“So you can understand him?” Dili began.
“Yes, though not by traditional means. It’s magic.”
She grunted. At least the vampire could translate for Toad, but she’d be suspicious of every word that came out of his mouth.
“While you’re dressing, you can start by telling me your name,” she said.
“Hadrian,” he replied, the rustling of fabric in the background.
“That’s it? Just Hadrian?” she asked.
“For now,” the vampire said. “And you’re Dili, the mountain witch. Your reputation precedes you.”
“My reputation?”
“All done,” Hadrian said, ignoring her last question.
Dili turned back to face him, to insist he explain what he’d heard about her, only to find him almost as naked as he had been. The cloak he’d been wearing was nowhere to be seen. A plain linen shirt with a drawstring at the neckline hung in tatters off his frame, the creamy edges of the fabric charred black. The worn leather pants had survived a bit better, but not enough to cover him up.
Dili rolled her eyes and turned back around. If anything, the gaping holes and shredded fabric emphasized the vampire’s corded muscles. He’d probably be as thick as a professional athlete when properly fed. She silently chastised herself for noticing.
“Don’t you have anything decent to wear?” she huffed.
“I did, then you blasted it clean off my body.”
The witch resisted dropping her head into her hands and instead sorted through her right pocket. It took a couple of moments to find it, but eventually she pulled out a grey wool cloak. She threw it behind her.
“Here. You can have it,” she said.
“Mmm. Thank you kindly, fair witch. I wonder how I might repay you.”
“Free of charge,” she said in a rush.
“If you insist,” Hadrian said, in a tone that suggested he would not drop it.
Dili kept quiet as the cloak swished behind her.
“You don’t have any boots I could have, do you?” he asked.
She did, a few in fact, but her generosity only extended so far to the vampire who’d tricked her into invading her home, no matter what his connection to Toad was.
“No,” she said in a clipped tone.
“Sure you don’t,” Hadrian said, in a tone that implied he knew she was lying.
Heat crept up Dili’s cheeks, but she didn’t want to let on any more. Either the vampire was just guessing, or he was quite skilled in reading people. Probably both.
Hadrian strode into her view, the cloak wrapped around his body so all she could see was his head and neck, not even his bare feet.
“That was some attack, by the way,” he drawled. “I don’t think I’ve felt that warm since before I turned. Though I shouldn’t have been surprised, since they say you’re as powerful as you are beautiful. So far, I find the rumors accurate on both counts.”
Toad hissed before Dili could snap at him.
“What? I’m being polite,” Hadrian protested to the cat before looking back at Dili. “Your familiar has quite the protective streak.”
“Toad wouldn’t need to be protective if you hadn’t used him to sneak into my home,” Dili said coldly.
Hadrian’s expression shifted, growing more serious. “Actually, that’s where you’re mistaken.” He crouched down beside Toad. “Tell her.”
Toad meowed, a series of sounds meaningless to Dili’s ears.
“He says he sought me out deliberately,” Hadrian translated, watching Dili’s face. “He’d been planning this for months.”
“That’s convenient for you to claim,” Dili said, though doubt filled her voice.
Toad meowed a lot more, pawing at the ground.
“He says he wanted immortality to match yours,” Hadrian continued. “He knew you’d never agree, so he didn’t tell you.”
Dili stared down in shock at her familiar. Her heart twisted as he blinked up at her with those green eyes. She opened her mouth, but no words came out.
“He says he loves you too much to watch you live on without him,” Hadrian continued.
Tears pricked at Dili’s eyes, but she held her quiet. She didn’t dare reveal more of herself—her pain—to the vampire.
Hadrian leaned against a tree. “It’s a standard blood magic contract. He’s my disciple for the next two hundred and fifty years.”
“Two hundred and fifty years?” Dili’s voice rose. “That’s—”
“The standard term,” Hadrian cut in smoothly. “I teach him blood magic, he serves me. After that, he’s free to go his own way.”
Toad meowed insistently.
“Which he says is worth it,” Hadrian translated, then his voice softened. “For eternity with you afterward.”
Dili looked between them, eyes melting when she gazed on her familiar, heart hardening as she turned to the vampire.
“And what do you get out of this arrangement?” she finally asked.
Hadrian’s lips curved into a smile that made her stomach flip. “A loyal disciple. And perhaps…” his eyes raked over her, “… the pleasure of your acquaintance.”
Toad growled low in his throat.
“Relax,” Hadrian told the cat. “I’m just being friendly.” He winked at Dili. “Very friendly.”
“I’m not interested in your friendship,” Dili said firmly.
“Not yet,” Hadrian replied, confidence radiating from him. “But it seems I have a couple centuries to change your mind.”
Next chapter coming Friday, September 12.