Dangerous Diabolical: Book 1 (Iridescent) ✔️

7.2 | Edited

Trekking back to the ruins of what was trying to be a house, a smell I recognised drifted on the wind. Instinctively, my eyes rolled. Of course, Grahame would choose this moment to make an appearance. Leaves scattered as he seemingly materialised at the opening where there should have been a front door.

Immediately, his attention burned through the shambles as I approached. Clad head to toe in dark colours and a hood pulled low over his face to conceal a brimmed hat and heavy sunglasses, his oversized hoody seemed at odds with his front-pressed work trousers.

"Where is Stan?" He demanded before I'd even entered my back door.

"Nice to see you again, too."

He growled, showing sharpened fangs. "What have you done to him?"

Glass crunched underfoot as I headed into the kitchen, pointedly not glancing in his direction. "I can assure you, anything that happens to Leofstan is because of his choices." I'd tried to warn the guy after all.

He bristled angrily. "Let me in."

Well, at least one of the two councilmen could respect territorial boundaries. Pointing to the shattered wood, "There's no door." I gestured for him to let himself in.

He bared the front of his teeth. "If you haven't noticed, I am a vampire." His blood-red eyes narrowed, face in a scowl.

"Good for you." I encouraged.

If possible, a vein bulged on his forehead.

"Vampires may not pass a threshold without an invitation." He hissed.

The vampirism perks were quickly becoming less appealing. However, if I invited him in, I could continue finding breakfast instead of trying to listen to the conversation.

With a shrug, "Oh, Grahame, master vampire, mighty warrior. Hero of the undead, will you please, oh please, enter the remaining rubble of what I call home?"

Before my next blink, I was being slammed against the wall, hand around my neck. The aroma of dried blood oozed into the room, and two very sharp fangs were bared in front of my face. So fast! Awesome. My feet were dangling, and I made a show of placing my hands on his arm to keep my neck up. I'd rather not have a crushed windpipe.

"I am in no mood for games, little girl." He snarled. "Your next sentence better tell me what you have done with him, or I will snap your neck."

He could try. "Kinky." I taunted.

His grip tightened.

As did mine on his arm.

Blood-red eyes swivelled to the clenched fingertips, troubling his skin as my hands were ever so slowly applying pressure. I, for one, did not mind playing along. If we got to arm wrestle after this, even better. Grahame tightened his grip, and my breath constricted. In return, his bone began to crack. Snarling, he opened his mouth to bite.

This was it. My journey into becoming a vampire-dragon, or a vamp-agon, would become real! I couldn't hide a small giggle as I prepared for the bite.

Grahame dropped me, and I landed on my feet with a soft plod.

Aww. So close!

His face was distorted in what I could only describe as disgust as he held the bent remains of his arm. With a snap, the arm realigned before my eyes, the bruise fading. With his eyebrows drawn and eyes slanted, he turned his attention to me.

"Why'd you stop?" I asked. "I was looking forward to being all vamped up." A pout crept into my voice.

"No human can break bones!" He spat, taking a deep inhale, nostrils flaring. "I don't believe you are as innocent about your affliction as you claim to be. Only two-natured beings are this strong." He realigned his hood over his hat.