The crunch of snow was indicative of only one man this time. Perhaps a hunter. It only took a few minutes to reach him. He didn’t have any time to react, to even see the blood remaining on her fangs. She flew to his neck, ripping out a chunk of flesh as she bit into an artery. The blood gushed into her mouth, drowning out any thoughts of Michael. Her urgency was too great to savor the kill. She took the man’s life, relishing her power. This was how vampires were meant to live. This was what she was: a monster. Tales already circulated of the monsters dwelling in the woods. Amaia simply brought the tales to life.
The man was empty, his body no more than a limp sack of flesh and bone. Amaia waited for Michael’s eyes to appear. She wondered how many more humans she would have to kill today. By Amaia’s calculations, it was about time for it to end.
Michael’s energy spiked violently. His eyes twisted with anguish when they appeared. She had been correct. Only a few more seconds. There wasn’t time to drown out the feeling with another kill. Amaia closed her eyes and simply endured. The eyes that stared at her didn’t know her, didn’t know the truth. The man lying dead at her feet knew her better than Michael did.
It was done. Amaia opened her eyes. Without Michael’s energy taunting her, her body succumbed to the high of her overabundance of blood. She dropped to the ground, letting the snow envelope her, its coldness embracing her like a familiar friend. This was how she was meant to be. Her heart accelerated just enough to keep the blood from congealing and stiffening her limbs. She stared at the sky, not really seeing it. For the first time since Michael had recognized her, her mind was blessedly blank.
Hours passed as she rested on the forest floor, simply being. Michael was gone, but she remained, as she always would, unchanging. The sun rose to its zenith and began to retreat. She needed to clean up her mess and return home. The body next to her was already blue. She deftly lifted him and carried him to the river, weighing his body down with rocks before unceremoniously dumping him into the current. She repeated this three more times until all of her kills were disposed of.
Amaia washed herself in the water and then retrieved a large satchel she had placed in a nearby tree. It contained a change of clothes. The dress she had been wearing was discarded the same way the bodies were. Once in her new attire, there was no indication of her day’s activities. She’d become adept at hiding her habit, but she wouldn’t have to worry about that anymore. The reckless killing ended today with the death of the distraction that drove her addiction. She only hoped she’d retain her grip on sobriety when he returned.
No sense ruining the present by worrying about the future. She headed home with plenty of time to ready for the night’s dinner party.
***
Cluj bored Amaia, especially when compared to everywhere else she had lived. They were originally sent to see if the residents of Transylvania were once again going to rise against the rule of the Habsburgs. Zenas had heard rumors, but there was nothing more than the standard grumbling against authority that could be heard almost anywhere. They had stayed because of the abundance of intense energies. Lawrence was ecstatic.
Amaia sat in the parlor dressed in a simple yellow silk gown, waiting for Lawrence. They had decided to live as a respectable father and daughter for their stay in Cluj. The city held no power, so there was no one really worth bedding, and it wasn’t as if she needed the money. It was more advantageous for her and Lawrence to become part of society in a more innocent manner. They had developed quite the reputation as matchmakers.
“How long have you been waiting, my dear?” Lawrence entered the room looking smart in a dark brown coat. She never could get used to him in a wig and hoped the fashion would pass. She much preferred his bald head with the gray fringe around the sides.
“Not long.”
“Good. Let’s be on our way.” Lawrence covered her with a gray wool cloak and then escorted her into their waiting carriage.
“And what were you up to today?”
“Scaring humans in the woods.” They were in the habit of mind-speaking to avoid eavesdropping servants.
“Was it satisfying?”
“They make it much too easy.”
“Really? You look quite flushed and sated. I take it you fed.”
“Of course. Nice rosy cheeks for this evening.”
Lawrence didn’t believe her. She could tell by the way his blue eyes bored into her, but she willed herself not to look away. He had been questioning her more than usual lately. He knew she was up to something. He might even know the full extent of her activities.