The house in front of me was a grand affair, and I was only looking at the structure from the back. There were dozens of windows and doors, most of the rooms beyond dark and shuttered.
The only lights were in the kitchen and the living room, where a solitary figure walked between the couch and the refrigerator with predictable regularity. I stood leaning against a tree where even if the woman could see me, I could easily make her forget I was there.
“What are you doing?”
I looked up.
Nial was sitting on a tree branch above me, book in hand, utterly disinterested.
I narrowed my eyes. “What the hell are you doing? Reading on a stakeout?”
“I can’t help. I can only follow.”
“Sheep.”
He glanced down at me. “Rules. Nice view from here though. I’m not complaining. Did you wear the bustiest bra you could find?”
I ignored him. I had hoped he could be somewhat quiet and helpful, but clearly, his idea was to be as annoying as fuck while imitating a chimpanzee. And reading.
“Hello, vampire? My original question went unanswered.”
Rolling my eyes, I responded without looking away from the window. “I’m here because the woman in Ginter’s house is his fiancée. With any luck, I can get her under my Thrall, take a little sip and control her for the next few dozen hours, then find out what I need to know from Ginter to bring him down.”
“Not bad.” I heard him turn the page. He was clearly not impressed.
“Nial, you can’t help me. Just shut up and let me do this.”
A whisper of his magic trailed over my skin and slithered into the top of my shirt.
Down the skin of my breast…
Gathering some strength, I kicked the tree hard enough to rattle the branch, and the book tumbled out of Nial’s hands as he grabbed the branch to hold on. I looked up at him, hissing, “If you try to distract me, Niallan, I will slice your head off your body.”
His lips tilted up at the corners, pure male arrogance. “You could try.”
I ground my teeth together. “And learn to use your magic for something other than copping a feel of my tits.”
He chuckled quietly. Evilly.
“Stay here. You’re my Monitor, so monitor.”
I walked down the hill toward the home in the dark night. No bright moonlight shone down on the earth tonight, which worked out—moonlight could disrupt my Thrall, but most humans couldn’t resist even on a full moon. However, as this was a Challenge, I didn’t want to take a chance. My feet glided soundlessly over the crisp, fallen leaves, and I didn’t even feel the need to conceal myself in any way. Ginter’s house was in the middle of nowhere, and there was no one around. There were a few deer in the back and a sleepy bear, but that was all.
The woman in the house, his fiancée Haley, was my target this evening. She was an unremarkable woman, with a liberal arts degree, poor housekeeping skills, too many shoes, and a standing nail appointment every two weeks. She was a socialite darling, seeming to know exactly what to say to all of her friends in all the right places.
I could see why Ginter had picked her. She was easy to look at.
Glancing back, I eyeballed Nial. He was taking her in.
Males and their dicks.
I walked right up to the kitchen door and made sure she couldn’t see me standing there. I watched as she twirled and twerked her way through the kitchen, making what looked like a peanut butter and jelly…and pickle sandwich. I hoped to God that I was wrong because I wasn’t in the mood to vomit.
Dancing her way back to the couch, she flopped down and started munching on small pieces of the sandwich she had made. She flipped through the channels a few times, and settled on a reality television show—women bitching about their husbands, by all appearances. Popping open a beer and taking a drink, she let out a rousing belch before giggling at her show.
This woman was going to make my eyes roll into the back of my head.
I watched her a few minutes.
Haley texted while half paying attention to the show. She would be the perfect go-between as soon as I could get her Thralled to me. My lips twitched, starting to enjoy her childish silliness with the pickles and the beers. She kept waving the small gherkin pickle and snickering madly.
It took only a small push from my power to get her under the start of Thrall. A very simple mind, more occupied with her shoes and beer. I envied the simplicity to some degree.
Stand. Come open the door for me.
Without hesitation, she put the plate, the phone, and the remote on the table and headed to the back door. Flicking the lock open, she pulled it open fluidly and seemed to smile at me.
“Good girl,” I praised. “Are you ready to play my game?”
“Of course. I like games.”
I leered. “Excellent. This game is lots of fun. First, we need to have snack time, and then I’m going to explain to you exactly what we’re going to do.”
I stepped close to her curvy body and wrapped my right hand around the nape of her neck. With a sharp glance into her eyes, calling my power to the front and capturing her gaze with the burning of Thrall, she collapsed in my arms limp as a rope.
I sat her down on a white and black checkered kitchen chair.
With a gentle touch, I tipped her head back, letting my fangs drop.
As I pierced the skin above her vein, I saw Nial in the tree watching me, his attention focused on my teeth. I sank my fangs deeper into her soft flesh, sealing my lips around the openings, evaluating him. He wasn’t looking at her. His heady gaze was all for me.
After the first mouthful of her hot, sweet blood, I didn’t care if he was watching. I didn’t care if he whipped out his dick and started jerking it. Mouthful after mouthful of fresh, clean, live blood slipped down my throat and warmed my entire being, down my chest and flowing out to my tense limbs. It was magnificent, feeding on a human that hadn’t been captive, unwilling, or used a thousand times by other vampires. Her soft, honeyed taste spread through every part of my body, revitalizing me, reconnecting me to the world around me.
The soft little thing’s memories slipped through.
Fun, silly sex she and Ginter often had, the garden parties she loved, the car she drove too fast, almost with reckless abandon. The friends she had, the courses in college, the charities she helped, high school, losing her virginity, her first kiss, her grammar school sweetheart.
I pulled back, allowing the flow to slow and close down.
If I went further, I would kill her, and that was not the plan. The plan was Thrall and control for the next day or so. There was nothing offensive about this girl. She was perfect for my plan. With a lick of my tongue over each puncture wound, the magic in my saliva sealed her skin.
I took a moment to lick the last of her blood from my teeth.
Exquisite. Innocence always tasted so scandalously delightful.