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“Good catch, William,” Melinda said, winking playfully.

The vampire threw Melinda a stern look before drinking the contents of the vial.

“Like you’d miss,” she added, rolling her eyes at him. She averted her gaze, unable to linger in his for long.

“I never miss,” William replied matter-of-factly. The vampire straightened his black pullover, the dark color only further accentuating the paleness of his neck and face.

“Did it work?” Melinda asked, venturing another look in his direction.

“It tastes correct.” He paused, savoring the warm sensation the potion gave him as it forced its way through his veins like the blood that no longer willingly pumped its way through his body. “I do believe you did perfect, Melinda. Well done.”

She curtsied, nodding in appreciation to her one vampire audience, hurriedly turning away again, to avoid making eye contact.

His eyes narrowed in a questioning manner. “Are you okay this morning?”

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. He noticed… I so suck at acting… “Um, yes,” she answered too hesitantly. She cleared her throat. “I’m fine. Why do you ask?”

“You seem on edge.”

On edge? Really? You have no idea, her thoughts exclaimed loudly. She wished she could tell him the truth- that her edginess was completely his fault.

Melinda had dreamt about William just hours before. A dream that left an unsatisfied ache etching into every part of her body as she recalled all the things he had done to her in said dream. She still felt the coolness of his fingers tracing the curves of her back, as if he were doing it to her right in the kitchen, this very minute.

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