Stakes & Stilettos - Michelle Rowen [107]
Despite the waves of panic I was feeling, I gave him a withering look. “Are you kidding me?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
“What are you telling me this for? Because you expect me to feel sorry that vampires aren’t more of a challenge for you? Do you know how sickening and completely disgusting it is that you take pleasure in murdering living breathing people who have lives and hopes and dreams?”
He cocked his head to the side. “How can I possibly take pleasure from something that is as easy as shooting fish in a barrel?”
“Then why the hell do you do it?”
“Because it is what I was born to do. I am the last in a very long line of hunters, Sarah. I went to Harvard and was first in my class. I could have become anything I wanted, but I chose to stay with the family business. Does that make me a bad person?”
“No, it makes you a sick, evil bastard.”
He laughed. “A tongue as sharp as her reputation. And you feel no fear of me right now? I’m very impressed.”
A line of perspiration slid down my spine. “No, you’re wrong. I’m scared completely shitless. But if I’m going to die, I want you to know exactly what I think of you.”
He sighed. “Sarah, how many times must I tell you? I don’t plan to kill you.”
“You don’t?”
He shook his head slowly. “No.”
“Then what do you want from me?”
He drew a sharp, silver-bladed knife out from the back of his pants. My eyes widened as the metal caught the light. He took a step closer to me and I took an immediate step backward. Then he smiled and leaned over to place it on the ground between us.
“Pick up the knife, Sarah,” he said.
I stared at it, then at him, but I didn’t make any moves.
His smile widened. “Your heart must be beating very quickly right now, isn’t it?”
I frowned. My heart. It… it wasn’t beating at all. I placed my palm on my chest, but felt nothing. My gaze snapped back up to his. He had his hand out, and dangling from his index finger was the gold chain.
“Took this back when you were snoozing,” he said. “Hope you don’t mind me borrowing it for a minute.”
“Give that back to me.”
“Here’s the scenario, Sarah. And this should be interesting.” He twirled the chain around his finger. “Pick up the knife. And then come over here and kill me. Then you can take the chain back. I even promise not to fight back at all.”
I blinked. “What are you talking about?”
“You are the Slayer of Slayers. And look at me. I’m the biggest slayer of them all. I’m a very bad man who has done very bad things. You have every right to kill me, so go ahead and do it. Then you can have your chain back and return to your happy little life with your master-vampire boyfriend.”
I bent over and snatched up the knife. My hands were sweating.
“Good,” Gideon said. He slipped the gold chain into the pocket of his black pants, then sat down in the chair again and began to unbutton his shirt. “Let me make it easier for you.”
He bared his chest. One side was smooth and perfectly chiseled muscle. The other resembled melted wax from being burned.
His throat worked as he swallowed. “Many women have gazed at me as you do now, only they did so with desire, not pity in their eyes.”
My attention returned to his face. “Wow. Brag much?”
“It’s not bragging if it’s the truth.”
“Just for the record, I already know about your rep as a ladies’ man. Hooray for you. Second, the last thing I’m feeling at the moment is pity. More like disgust and hatred.”
He stroked his chest. “Right here. Plunge the knife exactly here and you will get my heart.”
I took a step closer to him. “Is this a trick or do you really want me to kill you?”
“It’s not a trick. Kill me, Sarah, and then you can have your chain back.”
I clutched the knife and drew closer until I was only a foot away from him.
Kill a man who had killed so many. Whose very existence helped fuel the hunter organization. Whose money went to pay for weapons and travel so hunters could come and get us where we lived.