Blood Lover

I breathed deep and stretched my neck back, catching sight of a barn owl perched among the branches above. The darkness was no barrier as large eyes peered at me from a flat face. I was gorged and reborn with the sanguine liquid flowing through me. I grinned and wiped the blood from my chin with the back of a hand.

“Hello my feathered friend.”

My image flashed in his yellow eyes. A stranger peered back at me. The blues of my eyes appeared animated and unnatural against my dark hair. Incubus. The thought stole my grin and everything around me dissolved along with the occasional whimper and shriek offered by the surviving humans.

The owl knew acts of bestiality and cold murder. I looked away. It almost felt like God was peering at me through those eyes. Another helping of guilt was the last thing I needed right now. Not that I was feeling ashamed. My father used to say that life was too short to live with guilt and regret. Now, life spread before me like an endless black tarmac. I had plenty of time to wallow in guilt and regret if I so wished. Tonight, I would do away with such notions and be who I was reborn to be – a killer.

Feathered friends be damned.

I gave a half laugh. Euphoria was seduction. Blood my victory. I felt more alive than I had in months, and I couldn’t help but respect the unbridled beast within me. Supernatural energy. It was disturbingly empowering, and I was fast becoming hooked.

Speaking of beasts, it was Athan’s colossal figure that caught my vision as he released a dead male human and stood up. His face gleamed the color of red wine and his eyes were inky torpedoes. Blood-drunk. He was as delirious as I. He grinned.

“Jett the owl whisperer.”

“Ha! Screw the owl. He’s too uptight up there on his squeaky clean, high-horse branch.”

He laughed and picked up a stone.

“Frickin owl, like he doesn’t kill to survive.”

I had hardly registered that he had pitched the stone when I heard a dull thump as the owl landed at my feet. I looked down at it and grimaced. It was as dead as the human Athan had just drained and dumped.

Goodbye feathered friend.

Athan laughed as Blade’s throaty cackle broke out ahead of him as he strode toward us. He stopped short of me and slapped me on the shoulder.

“Looks like the soft-cock just got himself a hard-on!”

Athan laughed.

“Yeah, he’s evolving alright. I’m not sure which Master will be more pleased.”

Blade licked blood from his lips. Lemon eyes were ablaze.

“Hmm … let me see … the one with the vision, or the one with the vision?”

They broke into laughter, but I ignored them as I looked around. Mortality and oblivion hung heavy in the balmy night air. The scene appeared as if straight out of a Dracula movie. Corpses and torn flesh were strewn all around while evidence of blood was splattered across the earth and the tents.

Hmm …

Apparently, some vampires relished the kill more than others and took pleasure in shredding their victims before draining them. My daughter Avila would be affronted. Oddly enough, I looked forward to filling her in when I returned to the city.

My gaze settled on the small cluster of humans huddled against a flimsy tent canvas. I counted two men, one woman and a child. They dared not move as they sniveled beneath wild stares. My attention settled on the boy who looked to be about ten years old. I could smell his tender blood from here. Thoughts vanished as I fixed my stare on him.

Desire. My heart thumped as my senses spiked. Dark velvety eyes brimmed and peered back at me as he curled into his mother’s chest. A lock of brown hair fell over one brow while rosebud lips pouted, and his pulse became my rhythm.

Remarkably, I felt famished again. My nostrils fired up and I began to move forward, led by the promise of young blood. It was thrilling. Impelling even. Resistance was unattainable until Blade grabbed my arm and shattered my trance. His voice boomed.

“Taking children is forbidden, greenhorn. It’s against clan code.”

My eyes flashed as I fought to contain vigorous impulses. Including the dumbest response ever.

“Why?”

“Because we have to conserve our future blood supply, that’s why.” He laughed. “Hell, even the Masters adhere to this code despite that the blood of the young is the most difficult to resist.”

Athan smirked.

“Yeah, children’s blood is what caviar and white truffle used to be to the rich folk. It’s a delicacy denied to us, so learn to control yourself, slayer, or you’ll find yourself burning to a crisp come dawn.”

It was the longest statement I’d heard him utter thus far. I remained silent. What was I thinking? Self-disgust erupted as I looked back at the child, and it was a question I knew I would ask myself repeatedly over the coming days. It was also one I couldn’t answer.

I barely knew myself anymore. I felt like a modern-day Dr Jekyll, however my alter ego was more terrifying than a psychotic serial killer who liked to slice up hookers for pleasure.

The supernatural powers and urges that accompanied vampirism were overwhelming, particularly when confronted by blood and insatiable hunger. I knew that I would have to learn to be a vampire without allowing the beast within control me, at least not all the time.

That was much easier said than done. I was discovering rather quickly how easy it was to succumb to ruthlessness and apathy because it was now my second nature. My Master was right; it was those rare vampires who held onto empathy that were needed if we were to have any kind of future, and not only to preserve our blood supply. I sensed something much more profound at play here.

Philosophical thoughts took a backseat when I caught sight of a figure dashing from one of the tents. A whirring vision of scarlet fabric and long dark tresses disappeared into the woods. A woman. My pulse quickened. Blade and Athan laughed, and their banter followed me as I instantly took off after her.

“Ha, would ya look at that!”

“She’s got more balls than a juggling circus act.”

“Go on, slayer – go get your wild cat!”

I tuned out their chortles as I entered the dense vegetation. I became still, closing my eyes to focus on her. Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Her heart was a melody that merged with the forest sounds and set me in motion. My breath was shallow. The earth didn’t even feel me as I weaved through the twisted trunks like a firebolt.

She stopped running and I immediately paused. My eyes darted over wild bramble and vivid ferns as I searched her out. A twig snapped followed by a gasp. I licked my lips and whirled toward the sound as she began running again. A flash of red blinded my vision. She veered around a tree. I grinned and leapt forward. She couldn’t outrun me.

The wooded air condensed around me. Her feet crushed timberland turf, dragging over fronds and leaves just ahead of me. I slowed and rounded a trunk to see her grasping a branch and heaving. Black dewy eyes shone like a starless night sky beneath pitch hair. Her lips quivered like crushed cherries on creamy skin. She looked to be about Avila’s age, maybe a little older, and she was flawless.

I drummed my talons against a trunk.

“Are you done running?”

She squared her chin; eyes reduced to slits. My gaze fell to the rise of her full breasts straining against flimsy fabric. Her skirt swirled at her feet. She carried the faint scent of musk. I was captivated.

“I … I guess I am.” She struck out her hips and clasped them. Her eyes glimmered. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to kill you.”

She inhaled sharply, and her eyes never left mine.

“Do what you must, vampire.”

Arousal overload.

“Thank you, madam.”

She didn’t flinch when I walked closer and roughly grabbed the back of her skull. Her hair felt silky for a savage. But I didn’t dwell on that for any longer than necessary. Her blood screamed my name. I tilted her head so that the skin of her throat revealed itself to me. Glory. Blue veins stretched like wonderous candy. I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to. I didn’t want to.

Her heart raced as I gripped her hair and curled back my lips to sink my fangs into flesh that revealed sweet offerings.

Blood Lover.

It was all I could think as the moment claimed me. A whimper reverberated into my ear. Her pulse throbbed like a lilting symphony as I siphoned her blood and relished the warmth as it filled my mouth and made me whole again. Ecstasy found me.

Was this my heaven on earth now?

Then suddenly:

“No, stop!”

Hands clawed at my back and small fists pounded my arm.

What the hell?

The woman slumped against me as I turned with a fierce growl to catch a pair of wild eyes glaring at me. It was Clio, the not-so-friendly neighborhood witch. Blood dripped over my chin and my hiss deepened, but it didn’t seem to faze her. Instead, she shook her head and scowled, before she went to the woman.

“Beast! You’ve just about killed her!” Her lips pulled tight. “You can’t kill her, Jett. Do you understand?”

Understand? Now there’s an interesting word for a world where very little made sense these days. I looked at the woman who I still held in my arms. She appeared lifeless. The distant sound of a hooting owl chilled me to the bone. My voice was unrecognizable.

“It may be too late.” 

***

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