Night Slayer
The weight of his stare shifting off of her face was welcome.
“A Hybrid is a half-Vampire, half-Vampire Hunter.” She contemplated telling him more, but since he hadn’t asked--yet--she stopped.
He took another drink, found another peanut. Jo glanced into the bowl, the stench of mildew invading her lungs. It looked as if those peanuts had been there since before her dad was born--before the Great Irish Potato Famine. “How did that happen?” he asked, the angst from earlier seeming to dry up.
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