Page 1 of Haunting the Hunter
PROLOGUE
ALABASTER
Well, well, well, what do we have here?
Mmm, my pretty girl… Hair as black as the charred edge of that grimoire she keeps too close. I want to thread my fingers through it and see if it leaves ash on my hands like the pages do. How poetic.
The golden rays of the sun seep through the sheer curtains of the library window, and she looks as if she is glowing. Reminds me of an angel.
Innocent.
Pure.
Powerful.
Makes me want to corrupt her all the more.
There is something about a creature so perfect that makes me want to taint it. Even if it’s just for the fun of it. I’ve watched this one. And haunted her dreams long enough. I’m getting bored, and I want more.
I watch as Callisto picks up a strange pendulum from behind the grimoire—funny, that wasn’t there before. Curious. She holds it in her hand, looking it over, and speaks under her breath.
“Where did you come from?” She holds it up in front of herself, smiling. “I suppose you’ll do for what I need.” Moving over to her little makeshift altar, she kneels and speaks, holding the item close to her chest.
“Spirits, hear me.” Her voice is soft but steady. “I call to you across the veil: Find Cade. Bind yourself to him. Watch him. Protect him.”
I chuckle to myself. She’s so cute when she’s desperate. The thought of her desperation pleases me. I picture how pretty she would be pleading like that tome.
She continues—rambling on about how her brother doesn’t know what he’s getting into, and how much she wants to help.
As if the universe cares about her little wish. Yet, as she speaks, a ripple in the air prickles against my senses. It’s faint, but it’s there.
How interesting…
A new player in my little game.
I can feel you, human, yes.
You.
The girl is mine to haunt. Mine to possess. Mine to do with as I please…
My thoughts snap back to her as a tear slips down her cheek. Her hands tremble as she pleads—
“Gods I hope that worked.”
An iridescent haze fills the space and she appears to breathe it in, head leaning back ever so slightly. I watch as her long hair falls off her shoulders—unable to pull my eyes away.
I hesitate. That feeling again—something heavy and unfamiliar twists inside me. Curiosity, maybe? No. Something else. Against my better judgment, I step closer, reaching out a hand.
Just a little closer—
Her breath catches, eyes snapping up… directly atme.
Impossible.
I freeze. She can’t see me, not if I don’t allow it. And yet, here she is—staring, mouth open in a silent gasp. Pretty rose pink lips parted.
For a moment, neither of us moves. She tries to speak, but the only sound she manages is a small, broken squeak.
