19
The vampyre known as Lukar swung his arm over his chest and bowed to us. “Good evening, Hunter Gwyn. It has been a long time.”
Gwyn drew out his gun and grinned. “You have been a worthy prey, I will give you that, but-”
“This must be the famous dierth of whom I have heard,” Lukar mused as he trained his red eyes on Tristan.
Gwyn frowned and pointed the barrel of his gun at Lukar. “I said this is where you meet-”
“I had expected you to be taller,” Lukar interrupted as he cupped his chin in his hand. “And how strange that you give off such little aura. Has that come with practice, or is it a skill you have acquired over your long years?” He paused and chuckled. “I imagine those years are even longer than my own.”
Gwyn ground his teeth together. “We have unfinished business,
