𝙒𝙝𝙤 𝙠𝙣𝙚𝙬 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙗𝙚 𝙨𝙤 𝙙𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙨?
Newly graduated accountant Cordelia Ashling has come to terms with the fact that her life is destined to be absolutely uneventful. That is until her parents gift her wi...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The dining room remains deadly silent, everyone staring at our host's lifeless body. Unlike others here, Felix would have been an easy kill. Warlocks may have a life expectancy that is average to other paranormal creatures, but as demonstrated by Felix's sliced neck, in the end, they are as fragile as humans. Perhaps that is why none of the other dinner guests are rushing to help him. He is a lost cause.
"Ummm, is this one of those murder mystery dinner things?"
My gaze darts to the curvaceous being beside me. Her attention is focused on the head of the table where blood is now dripping over the edge. Cordelia doesn't belong here. The moment she walked through the door I could smell the alluring aroma of her human blood. My fangs ached to sink into her pink flesh and draw her lifeforce from her veins in one deep gulp after another. Thankfully, the spicy tang of warlock blood has masked the scent of hers and curbed my craving.
"No, he's definitely dead," Lorelai says, taking a sip of her wine.
The color disappears from her pink cheeks and her jaw drops. "Wait, like—like, actually dead? Dead dead?"
I look down at her, an amused smile turning up the corners of my lips. "I'd say so. That's a whole lot of blood leaking out of that neck wound."
"Fuck!" she exclaims, leaping up out of her chair and pushing it back so hard it almost falls over. I grab it before it can crash to the ground. "Why is no one helping him?"
"Well, probably because he's a lost cause at this point," Lorelai offers in a bored, monotone voice as she inspects her nails. "This is really going to put a damper on the first week."
I roll my eyes at my best friend and murmur to our new acquaintance, "Lorelai will escort you back to your room, Ms. Ashling. I have a feeling things are about to get ugly."
Cordelia's eyes are wide, and her chest is rising and falling rapidly—too rapidly. "What do you mean? How can it get uglier than a murder?"
Heads at the table turn to take in the one panicked person amongst us...the human. Whoever invited Cordelia to Evermore Manor will have hell to pay. Her presence will be more of a concern than a dead billionaire warlock. She puts our entire society at risk of discovery, something that every paranormal has worked hard to keep hidden. Humans can hardly handle new scientific discoveries; imagine what they would do if they knew a parallel dimension runs beside theirs with all the creatures they tell horror stories about.
"Get her out of here, Lore," I demand through gritted teeth.
Cordelia has slumped into a chair with her head between her legs. She takes several labored breaths before saying, "I think I should go home."
"I second that notion," I grumble, snatching my cup of blood from the table and gulping it down.
Lorelai crouches before the woman and runs a gentle hand over her silver hair. Her voice is sweet—luring even—as she says, "Come on, Cordelia. Let's get you out of here and into something more comfortable."
