He shook the memory from his mind, lost as he was in this woman's eyes. She was terrified, he could hear her heartbeat thudding quickly in her chest. She was looking daringly into his eyes, eyes that normally were so unearthly in their hue that simply glancing at him managed to drive people away instantly. Most mortals would have run in terror by now, screaming as they went, but although her pulse had quickened, she stood her ground.
It was bizarre, and although a racing heart was normally a sound he relished in, for some reason, coming from her it just made his heart ache. He wasn't used to being forced into feeling, but there he was, giving in to his sentiments all the same. A worthy foe was always hard for him to kill, and like it or not, this woman was showing more courage than any mortal man or woman he had ever faced. He knew what his brethren would have said if they could see him there, standing in front of this human woman, a mere child in the grand scheme of things, as if under her thrall and not the other way around. This was why it was better to travel alone, he was sure of it. Any one of his kind would have looked down on and teased him mercilessly for displaying such human-like emotions.
Still, it wasn't his fault that she was so captivating. He finally forced himself to move forward, even though she seemed to be exuding a repelling magnet to drive him away from herself. It was time for him to end this once and for all. Once a human caught you mid-attack, it was always best do do away with them right away. She would go straight to the authorities or the scientists, who would without a doubt tell her how crazy she was, but still, the people who knew what to listen for would become dangerous and drive him out of his home just as soon as he had gotten settled.
He had been in this town for the past hundred years, posing as the young grandson of the man (himself) who had originally bought the mansion. Old money and a strong genepool, that was his cover story. In truth there was nobody with older money than his: most of his artifacts had been personally collected by himself over the years through his travels of the world. He always made sure to explore all the nuances of every country. With a lifetime of immortality on his side, he could find nothing more pleasurable than the ability to learn as much as he could. That way not a moment of his life would ever be wasted. He found himself spending a lot of his money to keep as many of these old traditional ways of life alive, whether through educational programs or with an anonymous donation to organizations doing work for people he held close to his heart.
It was better to be on his own than be mocked by other creatures of his kind, as he surely would be, just as they would have torn him apart for letting this woman escape his sights. She looked harmless, beautiful, and fierce. Exactly the kind of woman he would hope to keep around to teach the other humans a thing or two about bravery, not the kind who expected to be a victim and shut down as soon as the possibility became a reality. He had to get away from her before this became even more compromising.
Fortunately, a raccoon was rummaging in the garbage cans not far off, and the lid clamored to the ground. Realizing that they were at a standstill, unable to get her under his thrall or get close enough to attack her, he took this as his opportunity to escape and disappeared the instant she took her eyes off of him to register the noise.
He was careful to stay out of sight as he followed her along her journey back to her home. He had no choice but to kill her. Who knew how much she had seen, or what she would do about it? He had tried to tuck his fangs away before she saw too much, but now she was a liability. She knew what he looked like, he could be reported to the authorities. The last thing he needed was to live out a life-sentence in an overcrowded prison where people would quickly realize he didn't age the way other people did. She had to die. Why hadn't he been able to attack? What about her caused him to act like a deer in the headlights? He would figure it out and fix it, sure to make her suffer. Then he could rest well, knowing that she would be eliminated.
Micheil chose to follow her home, watching her car drive along the road slowly, warily. His heart was heavy as he stalked her. She was a lethally beautiful woman, her golden hair was radiant even in the moonlight. But there was something else about her too, something he couldn't pinpoint. It made her different. She didn't seem to think she was any different from other people, but there she was, staring him down, avoiding his hypnosis all the same. Whether she would admit it to herself or not, she had the will to survive an encounter with a monster. That made her special by most standards, and special things intrigued him. He was something of a collector, as there wasn't much else to do with immortality. This woman would make a nice trophy.
Even though he couldn't figure out why he had locked up earlier, there was nothing he could do now but kill her. That's what he would devote himself to from then on out, no matter what the cost.
Chapter 2
Dawn was shaken up the entire way home. She couldn't shake the feeling that somebody was watching her, but whenever she glanced in her mirror she saw nothing there. She was relieved once she reached her house. Its familiar silhouette was comforting, reminding her of the safety of childhood, the open arms of her mother, safe and protective, warm. That was before she died, leaving her only with material mementos. In her will she had left Dawn a locket, asking her to wear it at all times. There was no key to the locket, but she knew that inside was a treasure more precious than she could imagine. Sometimes she had tried to pry it open, even asking if her neighbor and best friend Brandon would look at it for her. Neither of them were able to open it though. It was a mystery that puzzled her to no end, but she followed her mother's instructions diligently, clinging to the heirloom sentimentally as a way to try and keep her mother's memory close by.
When she got out of her car, the familiar sound of a basketball slapping the pavement reached her ears. She looked into Brandon's yard, they had grown up together and were still living side by side after all these years, and sure enough he was absently dribbling, waiting for her to notice him. He had probably been waiting around out there all day, she thought with a bemused smile flitting across her lips.
“Hi Dawn,” he said, his lithe body sauntering up to her. She had always been driven crazy by his swimmer's body – the lean, unstoppable muscles that he rarely hid away when he was outside in his own yard. And why should he? He was gorgeous. He pushed his sandy brown hair off of his high forehead and grinned at her. “I'd ask if you were up for a game but it looks like you're exhausted.”
Brandon didn't know the half of it. She briefly considered telling him about the woman being attacked near the hospital, but he would ask too many questions. Who was he? What did he look like? Did you report him? Is the woman okay?
She had no way of answering any of those things, and worst of all, he would insist on tagging along to supervise her and make sure she was safe from the mysterious attacker. He would give her shit for not having the presence of mind to report the attack. She would just have to continue defending herself when she didn't know why she didn't want to report the man. How could she explain to Brandon that her heart just wasn't in it? That when she looked into the man's eyes, it was like seeing a long-lost friend; someone who she knew could never possibly harm her? It didn't excuse him harming other people, but...
It was all too complicated to think about. She decided to try and focus on Brandon. Sweet, sweaty Brandon, approaching her with his crooked smile and gentle brown eyes, his tanned torso peeking out tantalizingly from a barely-there tank top.
“I am pretty tired, Brandon” was all she said.
In that instant, she realized just how lonely she was feeling. How convenient would it be for the two of them to just give into the decades of sexual repression, the giggles and the jokes, the teasing and light touches, leaving a lingering heat long after they were gone? It would be so easy for her to just pull him by the tank top and taste his lips, salty with sweat. Take him into her bedroom, let him hold her and help her forget everything that had happened that night...
But she looked at him, staring at her with the an
ticipation of a puppy dog. She couldn't lead him on like that. She knew he had been head over heels for her for years, but she felt gently for him. Her passion was a low simmer more than a boil, and she wasn't sure if that would ever change. Besides, she felt put off when any man wanted her too much. She didn't know why, but she liked the feeling of the chase. Brandon would be too easy. Still, it had been a long time since she was with a man. Maybe she was just being prideful; the same stubborn child who pulled away from his touch at recess and pretended everything he did was wrong and stupid simply because it was him doing it.
“You should get some rest then,” he said, his dopey grin spreading endearingly on his face.
“I'll be working double shifts for a while,” she said, turning toward her door. “You shouldn't wait up every time.”
“Psh,” he called behind her. “Like I'm that pathetic.”
***
But he was that pathetic, Micheil noted. When Dawn disappeared into the house, Brandon dribbled his ball, staring down at the cement, his face dark and pensive. What's this? The boy was crying. Micheil stifled an unkind laugh. Mortals were such fools, with their ridiculous sentiments and buckets of fear. What were they expecting, never going after what they wanted and then being surprised when they were unable to receive their deepest desires?
That was one thing that made Micheil proud to be a vampire. He didn't hold back his desires. In fact, they were always full force, right there for all the world to see. He took what he wanted and didn't give anything back. Not unless that was his desire.
Most of the mortals would envy him. He had accumulated a vast fortune over the years, slowly learning how to spot the trends and currency, understanding human values and vices better than humans could learn them themselves. It gave him a razor-sharp advantage, and he was extremely ruthless in business ventures. He firmly believed that money had the power to corrupt a human's soul absolutely. He could see the same dark, savage, animalistic nature in businessmen that he often saw in himself, and these men had never been touched by the same hand of darkness. It came purely from their own hearts. It was something he didn't have any pity for, and would take these men for all they were worth as often as possible.
Brandon skulked inside after a few minutes of sniveling, leaving the yard clear for Micheil to make his move. If he could somehow get inside the house, trick her into giving him an invitation, he would be able to finish the job and avoid going to bed hungry. He had put off feeding for as long as he possibly could but now there was nothing left for him to do but fill his stomach. If he wanted, he could follow the trail of fear left by the victim that had escaped. He had been courteous though, and as a precaution, as he always did, he had hypnotized her so that if, by some awful twist of fate, she escaped, she would forget that it ever happened. The mark, in her mind, would have a perfectly logical reason for being there, and she would take care to cover it up with makeup and scarves until it healed. The human mind loved blocking out unpleasant things and usually did half the work for him.
Micheil floated up to the bedroom window. He could hear the shower water running and waited, gentlemanly enough not to peek, for her to climb into bed. It was when she was half asleep that he would have the most power over her from a distance. He could talk her into inviting him in, and then he could finish the job.
But when she lay down, she fell immediately asleep. The poor woman was exhausted. She had made no mention of what she had seen, nor any move to further help the woman or report the assault to the police. He thought about following her into her dreams, but that felt invasive. Instead, he stared at her, moon-eyed like a pre-adolescent, watching her body as it slept peacefully, her breasts rising and falling, supple and gentle in the moonlight. He was entranced by her, a strange phenomenon he thought he had outgrown three centuries ago.
Apparently this wasn't the case, and she slept deeply, the fullness of her beauty present and uninhibited by wakefulness. She suddenly sat bolt upright, her head turning toward the window, her eyes as wide as saucers. She had seen him. Well, shit.
He ducked away and fled back to his mansion with his tail between his legs. He had scared her and he felt terrible about it. He hadn't even considered trying the hypnosis on her before he fled. It was as if he had been slapped for peeking in on her. Punished like a naughty child.
Yes, there was certainly something strange about her, something that repelled him from harming her. Was it just a simple case of aesthetics? If that was all it was, he shouldn't be so worried. But he hid himself away in his study for the rest of the night, ignoring the rumbling in his stomach and contemplating his complex feelings for the beautiful mortal.
Chapter 3
Dawn's day was off to a bad start. She had fallen asleep quickly the night before, thinking to herself about whether or not Brandon was the man she was meant to be with. If there was anyone out there for her other than him, she certainly hadn't met him yet. Brandon's handsome face had followed her into the realm of dreams, and she had been afraid, even in sleep, that it was some kind of an omen.
And then those fears had been shattered by an invasive face – the man from the alleyway. His handsome, broad face, the piercing ice-blue eyes, the long black hair, tied neatly behind his head with a black string. She had never encountered somebody like him before. Was it the rawness she was attracted to? Or was it simply that she was full of adrenaline, and the mind often associated that with romantic feelings?
She was pretty sure it was the latter. And yet, when she awoke in the middle of the night with a start, she thought she had seen the man's face in her window. It had given her an intense jolt through her whole body, a longing she didn't know she was capable of. It felt almost like an awakening.
As sometimes happened when her emotions were strong, another bizarre thing happened that night. She wasn't sure if something was wrong with her or what, but it was a secret about herself she had never told anyone. Shortly after seeing the face and being filled with fear and desire, her window burst open and she walked briskly to it to see if the man was actually there – but only to be greeted by an unusual cold draft. She had to calm herself down and push the confusing emotions away before the windows would stop banging against the side of the house.
When the strange sensation was finally gone, she stared out the window toward the east, consumed by a pang of desolation and loneliness; almost as if she had just lost something precious. The idea that her mind was playing tricks on her was semi comforting. She had just been through a traumatic ordeal, and on top of that she was already sleep deprived, so it was likely that she was just making things up. It must have been just a windy night, and it wouldn't be the first time an overworked nurse hallucinated a little bit because of sleep deprivation. She shouldn't sweat it too much. Maybe she was still half asleep, coming up with weird dream fragments.
Unfortunately, she ended up staying up half the night wondering if what she had seen was real. Was he really there? If so, what was he doing outside her window, which was on the second floor? Thinking hard into the night, Dawn finally fell asleep at half past four in the morning - only to wake up three hours later to get back into the swing of things. Needless to say, she was late for work. And now she was sitting outside of her boss' office, summoned on what was, without a doubt, an opportunity to allow her to reprimand for her tardiness that morning.
Her heart leapt in her throat when the door finally opened and she was told to come inside. Dr. Johnston closed the door quietly behind her with a soft click, turning to her with a dazzling smile that made her even more nervous.
“Please sit down,” Dr.Johnston said, gesturing to a chair across from his desk.
She did as she was told and waited quietly for her verbal beating.
“I'm sure you are wondering why I called you in here today. I do know that you were late, but with the shifts you've been pulling I can't believe you're even this coherent. I'd like you to take tomorrow off and get some rest. For today though, I have a somewhat unconventi
onal task for you, presuming you're willing. After you hear what I have to say I'm sure you will be.”
Dawn watched Dr. Johnston speak, her eyebrows quirking curiously. What kind of unconventional task could he be talking about?
“I'm sure you know that every year, the hospital receives numerous contributions from generous donors so that we can keep the place a state of the art healing facility.”
He paused, waiting for her to respond. She simply nodded and said that yes, she did know.
“Well one of our most wealthy and generous contributors has suddenly taken an interest in you. He has asked that you join him for lunch to discuss something of importance to him. I can't fathom what, the man's probably seen you around and has a crush. I know it's degrading to let rich men throw their money around, thinking it can buy them whatever they want, including a woman's affection, but he said it's a matter of great importance. And if we don't do as he says, I'm afraid he'll pull the funding for the new children's ward. He's an anonymous donor but he's the most important.”
Dawn gasped. The new children's ward had been the talk of the town for the past three months. Everybody at the hospital was excited about it. They all knew how badly the children's ward needed a touch up. It was depressing there, and sick children were hardly comforted by the creepy bears with paint peeling off their faces, leaving their eyes gaunt and cracked. It seemed she had no choice but to join the creep for lunch and find out what exactly it was that interested him so much about her.
“All right, I guess I”ll do it…” she said with a heavy sigh.
Romance: Zach (A College Bad Boy Romance) Page 2
