Hot for Slayer (Scared Sexy Collection, #1)

by Ali Hazelwood

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.

It may sound foolish, but I never get bored of watching 44the trees change, of seeing girls walk around hand in hand while giggling over a text from a crush, of finding a good poem. 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.

He bends toward me slowly enough that I could conceivably stop him, but I don’t care to conceive of it—before his lips touch mine, or after.

He sighs deeply, as though my inability to read his mind is an inconvenience, but one he will try to deal with out of the grace of his heart.