22

'You can try all night, sweetcheeks, and you will always get the same results. I’m immune to all your hokery pokery and voodoo shit. So whatever this was, maybe you should just get it off your chest and explain. Oh, and nice accent by the way. I like a sexy foreigner. What is it? Irish? Scottish?' He walks casually to the wall and leans back against it slowly, stopping to unravel the bandages still wrapped around his hands that had kept his gloves on tightly. Seemingly unphased by any of this. Riling my inner bitch to extreme levels.

'You're a hunter... I’m your prey... What is there to explain? I should be asking you what this is?' I stomp to my feet and brush myself down with spiky motions, anger simmering insanely and my confusion making me worse. Staring at him as though he has two heads and not sure if I ever met a hunter who was completely immune while powers still caused mayhem around him. It’s not how it used to work. They were dampeners who weakened