His blood was divine. She didn’t knew what it was about him that made him taste so delectably delicious, but his blood had a sweetness to it that she didn’t find among most men, and she pulled her fangs out of his neck for an instant to take a deep, ragged breath as her entire body pulsed with pleasure.
She looked down at him. She was holding him like a baby in her arms, and on his face he wore the expression of a trusting newborn, high on the compulsion she’d used to sway him into letting her take that first bite. Now, she knew, he would let her drain him if that is what she wanted. And if she were bold enough to give him a drink of her own blood, he would do anything for her – anything at all.
She growled and bit down again into his neck, tearing flesh and sinew to get to his vein. Hot blood rushed into her mouth and she gulped and gulped, feeling him grow weaker in her embrace. She pulled away again, not wanting to drain him.
There was something about this man.
She’d roamed the earth for thousands of years, and never had she tasted anyone so sweet. She kept her gaze locked on his face, but her mind wandered. She thought about the others who’d she once professed were the best of the best, and had, a number of times, already thought she’d drank from the best the world had to offer – astronauts and kings, mathematicians and hearty carpenter’s wives – but this man made them all seem like secondhand snacks.
His eyes were now closed, dark lashes resting on ivory skin.
She heard footsteps coming down the stairs. They were in a room at the end of a long hallway, the stairs far off, but of course she could hear them coming. Usually she would drop her prey and run; let them live or let them die, she’d hardly ever cared.
But there was something about this man. He would live. She would make sure of that.
For the Scriptic.org prompt exchange this week, Cameron at http://camerondgarriepy.com gave me this prompt: Some are mathematicians, some are carpenters’ wives. (from Bob Dylan’s “Tangled Up in Blue,” no need to use the quote, just be inspired by it)
I gave Jester Queen at http://jesterqueen.com this prompt: Tell the story of a shark attack.
I’ve been thinking a lot about vampires lately, and it occurred to me to dig up this old Trifecta challenge I did months and months ago and see if I could expand on it. The original post had a lot of great comments – people seemed to have a genuine interest in learning more about this seductive, nameless woman who I wrote about then. Maybe this is nothing. Maybe this can be something. I suppose we’ll see.