Night Huntress

I spent my days sleeping and my nights looking for unsuspecting victims. Not that I wanted to hurt them on purpose or that I tried to kill them, but I must follow where hunger leads. When it came to nightly filling my belly with the blood of an innocent, I had no choice. I had to do it, or die.

And like any other night, I traveled almost faster than the ability of the human eye to see me. I visited the beach, where the homeless spent their nights sleeping on the warm sand. When I stood at the edge, not in the sand but still on the paved road leading back to the city, I waited to overcome my fear.

On many nights, there was so much moisture in the air, and anyone knowledgeable about my kind knows, water is very painful. Even a drop can cause third-degree burns. So I stood having inched forward to the edge of the small patch of grass and gravel separating me from what can hurt me.

It never lasted for long, because the hunger, the thing that kept driving me, forced me to take the chance to reach my meal.

On this night, like any other, I looked around with a nocturnal creature’s excellent vision. Even when the moon was hidden, I could see them, lying still, beneath newspapers and boxes. In some ways, they were worse off than I was. None lay near another. None enjoyed the warm embrace of someone who cared.

After I finally overcame my fear and strolled forward, I scanned each figure, sniffing the air around them. My dead body resists disease, but sickly blood doesn’t taste as sweet, so I am discerning of whom I choose. In an effort to avoid waking them, my step was light, careful. They knew me on sight. Not me, but my kind. We were all pale like death, lean, with wide, lonely eyes filled with the hunger of a thousand years.

I stooped to lean over one, bracing myself against the stench of an unwashed body. I hoped that he would not fight too much. There was always guilt at what I must do, and they could understand, allow a coexistence that was amiable for us both. I did my best to protect them from harm, from those that would rob the little they had or kill them. I know, it was foolish of me to wish such a thing, but I did.

I pulled back his faded and worn shirt collar to reveal a wisp of a neck, stained with dirt. I grimaced, swallowed, and leaned in to feed, but something stopped me. A sound. To my left, a half mile down the beach, three people struggled together. That they would dare invade what I considered my domain—when I was nearly mad with hunger and jumping each time the waves crashed against the shore—angered me. How dare they?

I moved swiftly, almost gliding atop the grains of sand. When I drew closer, I saw a man, as tall and broad-shouldered as any I’d ever seen. I cried out when I saw another jab inward to his stomach while another held him. The man drew back and plunged again and again.

When I reached them, my hunger had made me mad. I ripped into them, beating them and tossing them like so much baggage. When I would attack, they stood and ran, yelling, “Vampire, vampire!”

I would have pursued except I heard the injured man groan, and I turned back to him. I was beyond thinking of his wound and of who he might be. I couldn’t take him to a hospital to be sure his injuries would be taken care of. I must feed. It is necessary.

So I latched onto his smooth white throat, sinking my sharp fangs deep. The blood ran thick and warm, soothing to my empty stomach and my chilled body. Even as I drew from his life source, the heat spread over my arms and legs, my fingers and feet.

It was so good that I couldn’t stop. I wouldn’t. If I could have every drop, I would have it. He was flat on his back, his eyes closed, so I could not see their color or see the fear that must be there. I laid myself out on top of him, pretending while I drank that he loved me, that he would want me to have all of him.

One word, in his death, is what he whispered to me, still with his eyes shut, “Why?”

I would have cried if I could, would have pleaded for his forgiveness. But my guilt didn’t allow words beyond the lump in my throat. I lifted myself from him then, fat with blood and unable to move swiftly as I did before. You may think that my sustenance makes me strong, and it does, but not when I’ve overindulged as I did tonight.

Refusing to look back at him, I moved away from the place of my greatest fear and headed back to the city, to walk among the mortals and pretend at least for a little while that I belonged among them. Just for a little while, my skin glowed with the health of my victim’s blood, and I was not so clammy, should anyone happen to come in contact with my skin.

ADULT EXCERPT

I laughed, a still, hollow sound but infused with power. “Foolish young vampire. Shall I show you my power?”

My voice grew deeper. My fangs extended. He stepped back, but I caught the purple material of his jacket with a clawed hand. With my other, I unbuttoned his pants and reached inside. He was already stiff and hard. I pulled him free and began to stroke along his long shaft, squeezing and tugging alternatively.

“Don’t,” he gasped.

I tilted my head to the side. “Why? Hmm? Turns you on?” I released him and ran a hand down along his inner thigh. “Do you know that I can make you climax with any part of my body? My mouth, my tongue, my hands, or even my words alone. You belong to me. You will not break the bond unless I will it.”

While I said the words, I knew I was losing control. It was why I stayed on the outside, away from everyone. Vampires were loners, mixing only with their kind and rarely with humans. All of us fought to control a power inside that threatened to consume not only ourselves, but also those around us. Zach had not discovered that. Maybe my loneliness, my continuous reliving of losing my family is what provoked the unleashing of my power.

My mind told me to run. My emotions were in control. I would have him right there, right then, and nothing would stop it. Not him, not anyone. But when I looked up into his eyes, I saw that he was on fire like I was. No seduction was necessary, no hypnotizing to bend him to my will. Zach wanted me.

Pushing his pants down along with his boxers, I knelt down before him and took him into my mouth. I teased him with the tip of my tongue while I watched his reaction. He tightened and tossed back his head in ecstasy. All mine.

Another trick I had, I thought with pleasure. He was long, but I swallowed all of him. I massaged with my throat and stroked him until he was ready to climax. He growled and panted, bucking against me. I raked his bare thighs with my nails, then slid my hands behind him to grasp his buttocks. After long strokes in and out, he was pleading for release, begging me not to stop. Mine!