CHANNILLO

The Hybrid King (4)
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She turned slowly to find herself face to face with a tall, pale man with dark hair and a red mouth. He grabbed her arms and held them tightly to her side before she could make a move. She had not sensed him because he had no heartbeat. She had not heard him because he moved like a ghost. She had not smelled him because she could not distinguish his scent from the rot and decay of the dungeon. She swallowed hard.  She had never seen a vampire before.

 

             “Well, well, well, Nathaniel, his Majesty was right. She did get the best of you,” the vampire drawled in the dialect of the Southern regions, sounding dreadfully bored.

            The werewolf, Nathaniel, growled dee...

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