I’m Not A Warrior Or A Goddess,”

A Gun I Had Been Brought Down By A Gun. It Was Practically Comical. Cheaters, I Thought. I’d Spent My Life Focusing On Hand To Hand Combat, Learning To Dodge Fangs And Powerful Hands That Could Snap My Neck. A Gun? It Was So… Well, Easy. Should I Be Insulted? I Didn’t Know. Did It Matter? I Didn’t Know That Either. All I Knew In That Moment Was That I Was Going To Die, Regardless.

I Still Couldn’t Stop The Sick Feeling Rising In My Stomach. “this Could Be A Disaster.” “how? If Anyone Even Finds It—and It’s Not Just Sitting Under A Table Right Now—they’ll Just Have A Good Laugh At Our Sappy Talk. No One’s Going To Be Like, ‘aha! Proof Of An Illicit Human-and-vampire Affair.

He Was Hiding From His Problems In A Bottle, Something That Went Against Every Piece Of My Nature. Me? I Couldnʹt Let My Problems Win Without A Fight.

Most Fathers Don't Threaten To Disembowel Their Daughter's Boyfriends." "that's Not True. And Anyway, That's Not What I Actually Said. It Was Much Worse.

I Felt A Strange Fluttering Sensation In My Chest. Butterflies, Cardiac Arrest . . . It Was Hard To Say What Exactly.