Chapter 4

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Hi!

Alexander's back - and, really, what more can I say? I hope you like this one :-)  And, what are your theories on the last sentence of this chapter?

Lara

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Chapter 4

I blinked. A shallow breath inflated my lungs. The room was drenched and soaked in shadows. The sight of him, impossible and all-consuming; his figure, stranded in the soft glow of the single floor lamp in the corner. The head vampire was standing behind the couch with his back turned to the entrance, apparently deeply engrossed in reading some sort of document. His short black hair was smoothed back and tamed. It seemed to shimmer in the eerie blueness of the room.

Alexander was wearing a white shirt that most certainly was only buttoned up half way, and black slacks. He didn't need to turn around. I knew that all the blue in the room combined couldn't compete with the intensity of his eye color. I'd seen it. Multiple times.

Another detail. Another illusion.

Like a devil in disguise, his looks belied who and what he was. He had the kind of face that made you stop and stare in the middle of a goddamned street. It was the kind of beauty that reminded me of snow and blood. A sculpture carved of concrete and ice come to life. An intricate piece of art behind an impenetrable sheet of glass. You may look at it, but you can never even think of touching it. It's just not made to be touched.

I sucked in a breath. Where did that come from?

I glared at his back. Like I didn't know. I knew it from the moment I left Boyd Park – that one fateful night. I went after Raphael Medici, blinded by rage and something else, that one dangerous emotion I was not going to give a name. I would have set the world afire just to save a vampire that only saw and used me as a tool.

And that was exactly where the danger lay. How long could I walk this road without being sucked under? How much longer before I started to lose bits and pieces of myself?

Then, before I knew it, the corpse turned around, was in fact facing me before the motion fully registered. That I hadn't seen him move bothered me more than I liked to admit.

I was right. Alexander hadn't taken the trouble to fully button his shirt.

For a moment the vampire simply looked at me. Then he directed his eyes back to the sheets of paper in front of him again.

"You are punctual, little witch. How unusual," he stated it in a flat tone of voice. Like my presence meant nothing to him. It didn't.

I forced my limbs into motion, shrugged, and made my way to the couch.

"Don't get used to it," I said and let myself flop down, acting like his two-thousand yard stare hadn't affected me at all.

The vampire, meanwhile, made no sign of finishing his reading exercise. Seconds of awkward silence ticked by.

"Start with your report, little witch. I have a meeting with one of the coven leaders in about half an hour," he finally said without looking up.

The situation clearly called for a distraction. The high art of stalling was something I had perfected during my years as aspiring young witch student. Back then I did it because I didn't want to study. At this point in time I did it because I didn't want to face the head vampire's wrath. How quickly paradigms could shift.

I crossed my arms, assuming a playful attitude. "Who is it this time? Thyler?"

The vampire looked up, probably hearing the slightly derogative tang in my voice. "Yes, it is indeed Thyler, little witch."

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