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He glared at me. “Don’t be rude.”

I sighed. “Sorry. Go ahead.”

“My name is Wan the Dark Hunter,” he said, squaring his shoulders.

I waited.

He looked at me, clearly expecting a reaction.

I waited some more.

“So,” he said, “that name should have inspired fear in you. You don’t look very fearful.”

I shrugged. “I don’t know who you are.” And I didn’t. I’d never seen him before or heard his name. I thought he was probably a few years older than me. He was handsome, in a devilish way, his dark goatee trimmed perfectly, nary a hair out of place. He had tattoos on his arms and I recognized Dark marks, signifying he was at a higher level than the other Darks I’d faced. That was okay with me.

“Seriously?” he said. “Never heard of me?”

“Nope.”

“That sucks,” he said. “I thought I was really making a name for myself.”

“Eh. What can you do?”

Wan rolled his eyes. “Of course you say it like that. Everyone knows who you are.”

“That’s not my fault,” I said. “My mom says it’s my face.”

“What does that mean?”

“I guess I just have one of those faces.”

“So you’re saying that my face isn’t good enough?”

“No,” I said. “You’re really cute.” And he was. Too bad he was evil.

He flushed. “Shut up. No, I’m not.”

“Yeah, you are. I like your goatee. It’s very… trimmed.”

“Thanks,” he said, preening a bit. “I grew it myself.” Then he winced. “Wow, that sounded awkward.”

“It was pretty awkward,” I agreed. “Adorable, though.”

“Well. This has been just lovely. Maybe we could….” He closed his eyes. Took a breath. Opened his eyes again. “How in the fuck do you do that?”

“Yeah. I don’t really know. Weird, right?”

“People fear me,” he said.

“I don’t.”

“Most do.”

“Oh,” I said. “That’s cool. So, like, are you going to monologue?”

His eyes narrowed. “Monologue.”

“Villains tend to broadcast their plans and reasons when they capture me.”


Tags: T.J. Klune Tales From Verania Fantasy