King of Night – Thorne Hill Read Online Emily Goodwin

Categories Genre: Alpha Male Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 80563 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
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“Go back to hell!” one of them shouts, and the others murmur in agreeance, thinking they’re all tough shit.

“I would,” I start and step forward. The little group tenses. “But I wouldn’t want to miss out on all the fun here.”

“I want that one.” Eliza says, extending her hand and pointing a finger at the ringleader of the group. “He looks tasty.”

“Ladies first,” I tell her. She speeds forward, stopping not even a foot from the man. Another holds up a cross, as if that will do anything to stop us. Another pulls a wooden stake from his backpack.

I have it out of his hand and broken in pieces on the ground in two seconds flat.

“I thought murder goes against your religion.” I drop the broken pieces of the stake to the ground. “Or do you just pick and choose which teachings of the Bible you decide to follow?”

“You can’t kill what’s already dead!” another shouts and flicks his eyes to someone across the street.

“No, you can’t,” I say and follow his gaze. A woman is crouched down by a bench, holding her phone up. “We’re being filmed,” I tell Eliza, speaking in French again. “They want us to attack.”

“So fucking lame,” she huffs and steps back, and the man she was in front of makes the mistake of looking right into my eyes. In a split second, I have him held spellbound.

“You love vampires,” I tell him, and he nods, eyes glossing over. “You love vampires so much you want to be one.”

“Don’t look in his eyes!” The man who tried to stake Eliza warns and goes to cover his friend’s eyes. I hold out my hand, and the man freezes, afraid of me.

“You love vampires so much you’re going to find a costume store and buy plastic fangs to wear so you can pretend to be a vampire,” I keep going and Eliza lets out a snort of laugher. Fucking with the minds of hate-filled humans has always been a favorite pastime of mine.

“Don’t listen to him!” another one protests and the two others who stayed in the back like cowards are pulling more weapons out of their bags. One holds up a garlic-infused pepper spray, which does nothing more than irritate our eyes like a normal pepper spray would.

When vampires came out about ten years ago, scam-savvy humans made a killing selling bogus vampire-hunting kits. Garlic, holy water, and crosses do nothing to us.

We can be killed with a wooden stake to the heart, but one tipped with silver does the job faster. Most humans grossly underestimate how hard it is to shove a wooden stake through the sternum as well, resulting in a lot of failed murder attempts with a pissed off as fuck vampire on the other end of it.

“Let’s go,” I tell Eliza and we step away.

“Turn me into one of you!” the ringleader of the protesters begs. “Please! I want to be like you!”

Laughing, Eliza and I dart across the street. She hooks her arm through mine and rests her head on my shoulder.

“That was fun,” she says.

“It was.” I kiss the top of her head. “Are you still in the mood for virgin blood?”

She turns her head up, smiling “Always.”

Chapter

Seven

I gather a handful of brunette hair in my hand and pull it to the side. The woman I’m fucking from behind—who’s name I didn’t care to learn—grips the headboard and moans loudly. I drive my cock deep inside of her and bring my mouth to her neck, fangs sinking into her skin.

She tenses for a moment, shocked from the pain. It subsides quickly and I put my mouth around the wounds, sucking in a mouthful of blood. I bring a hand down between her thighs, pleasuring her with my fingers while I feed.

I come right after she does, but I don’t feel satisfied. Licking up the blood that drips from her neck, I take her hand and put her fingers over the two little punctures on her neck.

“Keep the pressure,” I tell her and pull away. We’re in my bedroom, and dawn is quickly approaching. My automatic blinds will come down at any second, keeping my house light-tight during the day. Light from the outdoor lamps filter through the room, and when the woman turns, hair falling over her face, I get hit with a vision of Callie.

Dammit. I should have brought a blonde home with me instead.

I want to forget about her. I don’t want to think about her again. She’s annoying. Probably more than a little fucked up in the head.

And she’s a witch.

I shouldn’t want to see her again, but as soon as the vision of her enters my mind, there’s a fluttering inside me like my dead heart is trying to beat again. She unnerves me in the best way possible, and it’s been a good seven centuries since anyone—dead or alive—has been able to do that.


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