I wrote this for all those characters who get ditched by their boyfriends for 'soul mates'. Wish ya'll luck. <3 I also want to dedicate this chapter to Pink_Tink, bluegirl09 and ilovevampires2. They are awesome fans! (And commenters) Thanks!
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Jonathan responded to her words as if they were a direct order from a superior. Which, of course, they were.
" Explain," Allyson ordered.
" Allyson-" He started.
But she interrupted, " Call me Soul Huntress or Huntress of Souls."
" When did you become such a bitch?" Jonathan asked her.
" I am your superior. You will explain, and you will not talk to me in that manner. Besides I am not the dog here," Allyson responded briskly.
" I don't actually know her. She's my soul mate," He explained.
" Soul mate?" Allyson asked in disbelief.
" Yeah, she was destined for me. We're mates," Jonathan "elaborated".
Allyson closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
" Bullshit. I know Soul Magic. There are no "soul mates", a soul is complete on its own. There are no "other halves"," Allyson argued.
" It's hellhound culture," Jonathan murmured.
Hellhound culture? Again! Werewolves and their culture orphaned Allyson and left her to die. Hellhounds "mates" are predestined. Seriously? Allyson hated dogs, she always had and she wasn't seeing an end to the hatred anything soon.
" Were you planning on telling me?" Allyson asked.
" Yes, before we, uh, started to-" He answered awkwardly.
Allyson didn't want to hear it. She just turned around to go back up to her room.
" Look Allyson-" He started.
" WHAT?" She once again interrupted.
" Hey, hey there's no need-" He started again.
" WHAT?" Allyson didn't like to repeat herself.
" She's coming here." He let out in a huff.
" Congratulations," Allyson murmured before hurrying to her room.
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Allyson paced across her room furiously. What to do? What to do? She was practically shaking. She needed to blow off steam. Lots of steam.
She looked at the alarm clock. It was two o'clock. Great.
Her fists clenched and unclenched. She needed to go hunting. Real hunting. Alone.
She opened her suitcase with one movement and moved all the clothes to the side, until she found what she was looking for. Her knife.
It was a soul knife, it could kill vampires, easily. No wooden stakes or holy water.
She put on a tight leather vest over her tank top and dark skinny jeans. They were flexible enough. She also put black boots on, she needed to look decent. Why? Class was important, and intimidating.
Before she put on her gloves, she cut her finger with the knife. Her blood revealed symbols on the knife. Allyson had enchanted it so often that sometimes she didn't need blood.
Crossbow? No. Allyson wanted blood.
Who would be her victims?
Vampires seemed most logical. No political disaster, simply warfare.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a sharp rapping on the door.
" Allyson Stark. Open up," Jasmines voice demanded through the door.
That shocked her. What was Jasmine doing here.
" Jasmine?" Allyson asked through the door.
" Yes, it's me, now open up. I know someone who wants to see you," Jasmine sighed through the door.
" Who is it?" Allyson asked, exasperated.
" Your father," Jasmine murmured.
" My father is dead," Allyson protested.
" No, he's not, we already tested," Jasmine argued.
Just rip my heart out and tear it to pieces.
