He’d kept up a growling rumble, punctuated by yelps and groans, as he frantically worked to clear his eyes and wipe his face.
Struggling for air, she made gasping noises, all the fight gone out of her limbs.
The tips of his pointed fangs broke through the skin of her neck, sending a wave of pain radiating down her body. This is it! As she braced for the expected horror, suddenly the monster was gone. His weight no longer pressed on her chest so she could breathe. Shocked, she blinked her eyes, realizing she must have closed them in her panic.
For a moment she felt certain she’d died - that the thing had torn out her throat or crushed her heart. She hadn’t seen a white light or a tunnel. There were no idyllic scenes, no relatives coming to guide her to greener pastures. And it was strange that her body still hurt, but she had to be dead - there was simply no other possible explanation.
She’d looked up and seen the perfect face of an angel.
And then nothing.
“Shit!” Ethan yelled. He grabbed the back of the undead troublemaker’s filthy shirt, jerked him off the woman and dangled him in the air. “Nelson! Come and take this disgusting specimen, would you?”
He turned his gaze to the frightened eyes of the beautiful woman sprawled on the path, gave her the command to “sleep”, and watched her eyelids close.
Of all the rotten luck. He’d lost sight of the brainless newbie for one minute and look what happened? Of course there had to be a mortal walking around. Why didn’t these humans stay in their houses at night, like they were supposed to?
Nelson crashed through the trees and retrieved the snarling bloodsucker from Ethan’s grip. He locked eyes with the flailing fiend, gave him a suggestion to be still, then tossed the now quiet perpetrator across his shoulder. “Sneaky bastard almost got away, didn’t he? I think we both need a vacation from this job.”
Ethan snorted. “Yeah. That’ll happen. Since Mordecai came to town and started turning out these mindless fools at an alarming rate, we’re in greater demand than ever. There seems to be no end to the number of these bloodsucking idiots we have to track down and capture. Why does he only turn humans who can’t find their asses with a flashlight? Is stupidity the only requirement for his recruits? If Alexander hadn’t pissed off Mordecai, and caused him to bring his grudge match to our quiet little mountain town, we’d be dozing in our coffins and watching reality TV right now.”
“Yeah,” Nelson laughed. “Fine way to talk about your lord and master. Alexander’s OK. He’s just got a little bit of an anger-control problem. And Mordecai knows exactly how to push his buttons. But you know how it is with us vampires: one drama after another. Angst is our middle name. If we weren’t focused on Mordecai’s mindless minions, it would be something equally ridiculous. How else would we fill eternity? Speaking of dramas - what are you going to do with the delicious morsel our impolite friend intruded upon? You probably shouldn’t leave her here. We aren’t the only predators prowling the area.”
Ethan sighed and studied the woman. He had to admit she was quite delectable. In the forty years he’d been undead, he’d rarely paid more than passing attention to a mortal female. It was simply too dangerous to be around most humans. The bloodlust burned powerfully strong, and their fragile bodies were no match for his hunger. He didn’t have the age or ability to ignore the urge to suck them dry. Every time he’d been around humans he’d almost lost control of himself. Since he was still sensitive enough to be bothered by useless slaughter, he avoided temptation all together.
Of course, he had no problem drinking from the low-life drug dealers, criminals and paedophiles who unknowingly volunteered to become his nightly entrees. Their blood tasted just as sweet as any other, and he considered their executions to be acts of public service. He’d even become remarkably talented at disposing of the drained corpses, so he never broke the cardinal rule of vampirism: remain hidden at all costs. In his world, it was a true death sentence to betray the existence of the undead.
A slow smile spread his lips as he explored her body with his gaze. This one was lovely. When she’d stared up at him with her dark eyes, he’d had the odd notion that she was much older than she appeared. But, strange ideas aside, Nelson was right. He couldn’t just leave her as bait for the normal part of the animal kingdom.
“I’ll carry her up to her house, wipe her memory of having crossed paths with our repulsive friend, and give her the suggestion that she’d merely arrived home and gone to bed. Go ahead and take your package back to Alexander’s and dispose of him. I’ll join you shortly.”
Nelson smirked. “Why do you always get the good jobs?”
“Because I’m me and it sucks to be you,” Ethan laughed. Sucks to be all of us.
Ethan heard Nelson tromp off through the bushes with his passenger, and he squatted down next to the woman. The scent of her blood enticed him - the pulsing vein in her exposed neck caused his fangs to descend. As his usual feeding trance threatened to enthral him, he argued with himself about whether or not to act on his immediate needs or take her home. His primal brain insisted he could simply drain her and dispose of the body -nobody would be the wiser. He was so hungry. But something about her gave him pause. An intriguing element he didn’t want to destroy. In fact, the more he stared at her, the greater his curiosity about the pretty human. A faint voice in his head, a remnant of what he used to be, piped in to insist he wasn’t an animal. He made the decision, willing himself to lock the bloodlust away.
He scooped her into his arms, scanned the area to make sure there weren’t any other humans lurking about, and - satisfied they were alon
e - strode up the narrow path to the group of houses tucked away on the side of the mountain. It was pure luck, he thought, that nobody had heard the woman’s screams. But he moved quickly, just in case rescuers were on their way.
Her scent loomed strong around her house. He decided she must walk the path often in order for the aroma to be so pervasive. The house smelled of herbs, coffee, flowers — and her.
She lived in a two-storey Victorian, the sleeping area upstairs. He carried her up to her bedroom, used one hand to pull the covers back on the bed, and settled her onto the soft mattress. Then he straightened, surveyed the area with his preternatural vision, and smiled.
Her room was colourful and feminine. He strolled around the perimeter, studying the artwork, noting the musical instruments and appreciating the soft smells hovering around the unlit scented candles. On a table in the corner, covered with a vibrantly coloured cloth, lay a deck of tarot cards. He selected a card and laughed: the devil. How appropriate. The walls were adorned with photographs of the woman playing instruments in various settings, along with diplomas from well-known universities. He read one of the diplomas. Grace Blackburn. Her name is Grace. He paused in front of a framed newspaper article about the opening of her sound studio on the Pearl Street Mall a few years earlier. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out she must be a musician.
I used to love music — a long time ago. In fact, I once hoped . . .
He immediately stomped on the useless thought, mentally crushing it like a nasty bug. Nothing would be gained by dwelling on the past. His existence had changed in the blink of an eye and he had to face reality. Anything else was too painful.
After exploring the human female’s room, he found himself strangely reluctant to leave. He tugged a wicker rocking chair from the corner to the side of her bed and sat, watching her sleep.
If she knew what was in her room, she’d run screaming.
Something about this mortal woman made him feel oddly peaceful. It was as if a relaxing energy emanated from her person - like her actual physical body gave off a pleasant hum. He imagined his skin warming from an invisible heat source. He leaned in closer. Here he was, sitting beside a sleeping human without drinking from her. What was wrong with him? Why didn’t he leave?
The expression on her face was sweet and innocent, like a child’s. He gazed down her curvy body and was reminded that she definitely qualified as a grown-up woman. Her beautiful blonde hair fanned out on the pillow, giving her an ethereal, other-worldly appearance. Ivory skin shone translucent and perfect. Full, soft-looking lips aroused his body. He wondered how they’d taste.