Vampire King’s Little Killer

9. To Care



Caring: to have an interest or concern for

Synonyms for caring:

looking out (for), minding, watching

Nero

I did not intend to greet her, I was content with watching her from afar. But when the little killer leaned on to the filthy wall I realized something was not right with her.

Driving her car was also not my intention, but seeing young vampires creeping closer and smelling the blood scent carried by the wind I know I need to get her out of there. Not that I didn’t believe she couldn’t handle herself, but I assumed she was not feeling like herself at that very moment. Also, I didn’t have time to deal with the younglings not when she told me that someone wanted her dead.

I get that she killed people, humans have this fascination with money. They even killed for money while they preach about saving human lives, equality in war, and all that shit. What I’ve come to learn was that death had succumbed to currency, it was my little killer’s job. Yes, she’s mine. She didn’t know it yet, but she will.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Why does someone wants you dead?”

“Okay, Mr. Wrist-sucking-stalker, you really need to answer a question before asking another. That’s the polite thing to do.”

“So, you’re into being polite?” I smirked watching her look pissed off.

“Argh, I don’t give a fuck, I just need you to tell me where are you taking me.”

“Why?”

“I’m never going to win this argument am I?”

“You’re a fast learner, tell me, why does someone want you dead?”

“I don’t know, Chad just told me hours earlier.” She shrugged like she didn’t even care about her life. It was not very human-like.

“You don’t care about living?”

“Duh, of course, I do, but in the meantime, I need to do my job don’t I? I was going to do some digging tomorrow. It’s my day off.” She rest her head back, now lacking the interest in finding where I was taking her. It was like she trusted me. Strange. Very strange. It was like she didn’t even fear me.

“You’re not afraid of me?”C0ntent © 2024 (N/ô)velDrama.Org.

“You’d kill me already if you want me dead, not that I wouldn’t put on a fight, but, meh…”

“Meh?” I chuckled, she was the first human that said ‘meh’ in front of me. I’m the king of vampires and no one said ‘meh’ to my face.

She surely intrigued me, my little killer got me so entranced that I decided to bring her to my apartment. I wasn’t foolish enough to take her to my den, not where my children might take an interest in her. No, for now, I’d like to keep her to myself.

“My apartment, I figured we can do more about your situation.”

“Why do you want to help me?” She arched her brow, curiosity plastered in her expression.

“Why not?”

“Ugh, why do you do this? You know what… forget I asked, just take me to your place, I might as well shower. And food, yes, I need food.”

“You’re bossy aren’t you?”

“Am I? You can let me go back to my place if I’m too much. I won’t mind.” She gave me the sweetest smile, I swear I almost crack a smile and mirrored her lips. But I didn’t, I’m a four hundred years old vampire, I have self-control. Or do I?

The said self-control was tested when she entered my place and started opening doors then went straight to the floor-to-ceiling windows. She took my place as her own quickly by ordering herself a pizza and giving the restaurant my address and unit number. Of course, she paid attention to her surroundings, she knew my address and read the unit number on my door.

She was looking at the view, her eyes roaming across the street, she scanned her right side then left, then continue to study the road below. She had the mind of a hunter, my little killer was too fucking perfect.

I decided to get a blood bag while she busied herself checking out my apartment, this was not my main penthouse, this was my smaller ones, but it was the closest and I need her off the streets in a hurry. I poured the blood into a mug, throw the package in the bin, and put the cup into the microwave. I like my blood warm, straight from the vein is always preferred but we don’t always get what we wanted. And for now, I don’t have time to hunt, maybe later I can have her. We will see.

“So aren’t you going to offer me a drink?”

She looked at my cup, and probably think I was a bad host for not offering her a drink and letting her order her food.

“Beer, wine, water?”

“Hmm… I’ll take a cold beer.”

She walked to the kitchen when I finished my cup and rinsed it before putting it in the sink.

“What’s your name?” She asked, receiving a can of beer, opening it, and taking a few gulps as she waited for my reply.

“Nero. You?”

“Tessa.”

Hmm… beautiful.

“Tell me, Nero, why am I here?”

“You intrigued me,”

“Alright, do you make a habit of taking people who intrigued you back home? Aren’t you afraid that some of these people could kill you and take your valuables?”

I shrugged telling her that any valuable stuff can always be replaced.

“Said the rich-self-entitled-ass.” She muttered before she continued. “This is not your main residence.” She guessed correctly, she was very observant.

“It’s not.”

“Why does someone like you stalks me?” It was a question more to herself than to me. Smart, she’d know I don’t like answering questions. I could see the lightbulb moment in her eyes when she gave me the look and stepped closer to my front.

“You are one of those rich-strange-fellow with nothing else better to do than have a freakish fascination. And at the moment,” she stepped closer and pressed herself to me. “At the moment, it’s me.” Her words were raspy and seductive, at the same time she puts her hand on my chest and spread her palm feeling my pecs.

She pushed me to the nearest wall and cupped the back of my neck, pulling me closer for a kiss. Damn, my little killer tastes so good. I let out a groan and she moans in my mouth pressing herself flat to my body. I was feeling her guns and knives printed on me, rubbing slightly as she grind herself to me.

The buzz of the door pulled her back and she patted my cheek before walking to the door to get her pizza.

“I’m always hungry after a kill, and horny,” she winked and took a slice of the pizza, and sit down on one of the kitchen stools. Her eyes stayed on me, watching me while she eats her food.

I was still amazed at how she domesticated herself in my apartment without a care in the world. My little killer ate her pizza and shoved the rest in the fridge after I said I was not hungry. She finishes her beer before asking. “I’m going to take a shower if that’s okay with you?”

“Go ahead, there are towels under the sink.”

“Thanks.” My little killer smiled, she didn’t close the bathroom door completely, I could see her putting her knives and guns by the sink within her reach. She probably showers with her ears listening in on what’s going on outside the bathroom door.

Ten minutes later she was back with a towel wrapped around her body, looking fresh. Her hair was damp and it drapped her shoulder sexily.

“I assumed you don’t mind me using your washer and dryer too?” I shook my head and watched her walk to the other room to start her laundry wearing nothing but a towel. I was getting hard just watching her doing human mundane stuff.

“T-shirt?” she asked as if knowing I’d borrowed her one.

“In the walk-in closet.”

She nodded and gathered her weapons, placing them on the empty bedside table before she enter the walk-in closet and took off the towel. I was like a moth to a flame when I followed her and grabbed the towel before it reached the floor. My other hand was on her naked waist and my lips were on hers in seconds.

Moth to a fucking flame.


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