Hot for Slayer

by Ali Hazelwood

“Look at you,” he murmured in his faded Eastern European accent, those yellow animal eyes raking down my skin. “Flushed and plump and beautiful. You just fed, didn’t you?”

Gods .. I have problems bc damnn

and they couldn’t be trusted with finding out that vampires and slayers walked among them. Their reaction would have likely involved running to the grocery store, buying all the canned goods and toilet paper, and then never leaving the house again—they’d

I can see this happening

“As long as you don’t let anyone get to you before I do, Aethelthryth.” “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll always save myself for you.”

When he noticed my eyes on him, he lifted the blade up to his face. And with a smile that did not feel like a smile, he began to lick it clean of my blood. It was . . . Well. It just was.

Damn

My motto is: If I have to suck someone dry every few weeks, why not make it a Goldman Sachs executive?

Eat the rich

“Okay. Since you can’t take me to my home or to my workplace—” “A hotel is the only—” “I accept your offer.” 32 I blink. “What offer?” “To help me out.” His eyes gleam. “Lead the way, Ethel. I’ll follow you to your home.”

SKSKSKSKKSKS

I run back to my apartment, and step inside just as he walks out of the bathroom. Naked.

Hehehe

“Spider!” I scream, running to duck behind Lazlo. It’s big and streaked in yellow and gross, and God, I’ve always hated arthropods. “Interesting,” Lazlo muses. I whimper, “What?” “An entomologist who is afraid of spiders.” He turns to face me. “How unusual.”

SKSKSKSKSKSKS

Always has been. Every time we fought, every blade I sank into his flesh, every breakneck chase, the allure of his blood was there, calling. I’ve injured and killed plenty of slayers before him, and they all repulsed me, but Lazlo . . . I have no idea why his specific blood feels so overpoweringly, mouthwateringly delicious, but now that the glass splint is out, I should probably take a step back.

I have an idea why

Immortality can mean deep thoughts and philosophical pondering and the relentless pursuit of knowledge, sure, but for me it was always the opposite. I found it so easy, falling into the day-to-day. The humdrum. Staring out of the window with an empty mind. A crossword, a walk in the rain, a well-written book. Flowers blooming.

I halt, momentarily speechless. “No?” “We both sleep on the couch,” he declares. “Together.” “We can’t sleep together.” “Are there laws against it?” “No.” “Then we sleep together.”

Yes one couch trope hehehehehe

His chest heaves. “I might not remember my name, or anything about who I am. But I could never be near you and not know exactly what you are to me.”

AEGH

“Thank you,” the girl says solemnly. “I’m going to be a vampire when I grow up.” “And I’m going to be a vampire hunter,” says the boy. “And we’re going to get married.”

Omg sksksk

I assume you are eager to return to your own home, so—” “No,” he says, final, happy. At ease.

This is so funnY

“No. No, we haven’t. How do you even . . . ?” “I know your smell. I know your skin. Your hair. It’s all familiar. I have it all memorized. And I dream of you—of this. So many dreams, all so different, we must have done it a million times, in a million different ways. Tell me what you’re hiding from me, let’s get this over with, and then let’s do it a million more times.”

“Aethelthryth, nothing would make me happier than having you with me here, or in any other place that I will call home, for as long as I live. Please, come in.”

“And you impaled me in Colombia. Aethelthryth, for people like us, that’s the equivalent of pinching. And after a while, hunting you became the only way to be close to you. I wanted to spend time with you, but I could only do it as the slayer tasked with bringing an end to your bloodline.”