Feeding on souls, ripping out hearts, sipping a little blood wine. Just a few pastimes to slip back into my daily routine.
Two days slid by in a beautiful blur of alcohol, sex dens, and a pair of boys looking for the ride of their lives. After the last fiasco involving the police, I figured it best to indulge in my cravings outside of the walls of my home. Which had proved to be well worth it. It turned out one of the boys was a bisexual little beast, and they both enjoyed a little binding routine to up the anticipation. They had fussed for what felt like forever on who was allowed to take me first, but in the end I gave them a little of each of me, and finished the job at the same time.
Pushing over the chilled body beside me, I stirred from another night of sleeplessness and sexual provocation. The stiffening body had been entertaining a few hours ago. Nothing but all muscles and a sex drive to rival pissed off bulls in Spain. But like all the others, he did nothing for me once his soul was drained from his pretty little frame. Now all he was to me was an annoyance, another thing that started to smell in my fresh silken sheets.
Flipping over onto my stomach, I reached for my phone on the nightstand and hit the speed dial. I reached the voicemail for the body dumping company run by the paranormal underground, left the standard message, and hung up. I slipped out of bed and grabbed the bottle of champagne out of the ice bucket near the door, swallowing back the richness and hitting up the showers.
The water ran over my body in hot rivulets. If I had been a mortal, it would have done wonders for the muscles tensed under my skin. Yet another downside of being perpetually frozen at the ripe age of 22; nothing changed. A plus in the looks department.
I heard the downstairs door open as if I were standing in the living room. Setting the loofah back in its holder, I listened patiently for each step, smirking when the bathroom doors opened and the scent of sandalwood and salt water reached me.
The soft sound of clothes hit the floor, followed by a thin little inhale of breath before the glass doors slid open, exposing me to an all-american man in naked glory. He was very much like the guy in my bed was before he died; tan, strong, and sporting a cocky smile that knocked most feeble women out of their five-inch heels.
"They said to look for the gorgeous girl," he spoke in a husky tone, all rough and rugged like his looks. "They didn't say anything about catering to an angel."
Oh, he was cute. Not the smoothest, but I didn't pay to have him serenade me with his voice. Chris Hemsworth could do that for free on the phone.
Coaxing him inside, the glass doors slid shut behind us just as I slid my slippery wet hands on his hips, pulling him closer to my drenched body. My nails pressed against his skin, slowly raking over the tender flesh until they met in the middle, and dipped a little lower.
"That accent," I said, batting my eyelashes. "Southern?"
"Yes ma'am." He beamed with a lustful gaze. "Mississippi born and raised."
Moving my hands a little lower, I leaned up enough to nip the bottom of an earlobe as I grabbed his hard-on. I made sure to suck gently on his ear, pulling back only when I heard a faint moan of approval slip between his lips. “Don’t speak,” I whispered breathlessly, pressing my breasts against his chest. “Unless you want to wake the neighbors by screaming my name.”
He said nothing as I dipped between his legs, gripped hard on his thighs, and let my lips and tongue to the rest of the talking.
What a shame he didn’t last much longer than that. I couldn't fault him for it, though. Again, the lack of a soul seemed to always be the problem when I finished harvesting it from a mortal. At least his final moments were pure bliss.
A couple hours later, and I had sunk back into my routine as if the night before hadn’t happened at all.
Which of course meant I was ready to hunt for a new plaything to keep me entertained for a few short minutes.
Sunny, cloudless skies and the promise of heat played on the weather channel. It didn’t take much to convince myself that some sandy shores and salt-tossed waves would be the prefect hunting grounds for the day. The beach was always perfect, at least during waking hours, for the mortal market. Everyone flocked to the warmth sand and lightly chilled ocean like they needed it to survive, which was hilarious given how it could kill their frail bodies from the inside out if they were stuck in the middle of it, lost at sea.
Moving on.
I made sure to pick out one of my favorite tiny outfits, a pretty sequined dark blue bikini that played on every curve and twist of my frame. It was a gift, one of the countless kinds tossed my way by designers around the world. I wasn't the type to accept bribes, but I never turned down a gift made of the finest fabric known to the fashion industry. Not to mention the designer touches that came with my prized gifts. I could imagine the A list celebrities eating their hearts out over the things a no-namer like myself got long before they did.
Under the warmth of the sun, I set out on the soft white chair, perfectly fine away from the waves. All around me, girls and boys of varying builds wandered about, dressed in as little as they could get away with to minimize tan lines. Girls kept perfectly still on the ground, shadeless and tanning oil handy. Boys lumbered about in tight shorts, surfboards handy and beers in the cooler. It was all available at my fingertips, all ripe for the picking.
I took my time to find my target, feeling out the waves of emotions that came at me like a hailstorm of heat. Every person that passed by me was tempted one way or another, but it wasn't just enough to think about wanting me. No, I wanted that person that would crave me desperately right down to their soaked panties and stuttered breath.
I didn't have to wait long. By the time I had sipped a second martini, I found my pick. She was young, a fresh and fierce girl no older than a college grad. Every inch of her was tight and toned, signs that she cared about her physical appearance and health. Which meant she probably didn't smell like backwater burger joints and work in a grease trap or desk job. It didn't get much better than that.
I watched her for a while, smiling slightly when she played with the book on her lap by high noon. She had already applied sunscreen twice, flipped over enough times to show she wasn't interested in tanning her sun-kissed skin any darker, and guzzled two water bottles that smelled more like vodka than water. Her phone continued to buzz relentlessly in the cup holder of her beach chair, but she ignored it aside from the occasional glance and bitter frown. Instinct told me it was probably something deliciously mortal and trivial. Perhaps a boyfriend on the out, or a girlfriend with a case of the Drama Days.
She started to pack up when I made the move to follow after her. There were cute old circus-tent styled changing spots just a walk down the beach. It was where most girls swapped the damp and sand crunched bikinis for some short-shorts and cropped tops before walking down the boardwalk and window-shopping with salt water taffy in hand. She made for the tents. I followed after her, keeping just enough distance in case she was approached by someone in her immediate circle.
Fun little note; hunting in the daylight was risky at best, and utterly damning at worst. Mortals nowadays were constantly on the edge, believing every little thing was out to get them. They'd jump when someone inhaled too sharply, or heaven forbid someone accidentally drop something in a silent room. So it was always a hit or miss when I hunted in open and exposed areas. I may be perfect, but my technique was always changing, adapting to the times and areas I frequented.
I gave it twenty seconds inside the room before I followed in, shimmying into the small space just as the girl had slipped off her top, exposing her breasts.
The second she saw me, she gasped and pressed against a corner of the tent, covering herself. "Holy shit." She squeaked out the words, eyes wide. "Sorry, this is taken."
"So is the other one," I said, pouting. "You don't mind, do you? I just got a call, they need me back at work, and I'm sort of... terrified to change in the car." I jerked my head towards the parking lot, feigning a case of nerves as I deliver
ed the next flawless line. "Last time I did, some perv tried to get in my car with me."
The girl hesitated, her dark brown eyes uncertain. "I don't know..." she trailed off, taking me in. "I mean, I don't know you. Do I?"
"Oh, but you do. Remember?" I asked, smiling softly. Reaching out, I took one of her hands, locking eyes with her. I watched with inner delight as her gaze unfocused, glazing over. "We met on the beach, and you couldn't stop staring at me in this tiny little thing."
Slowly the tension drained from her shoulders, and her guarded arm slid away from her chest, exposing herself once more. She nodded, lips half-parted as if she wanted to speak, but never did.
Rubbing a comforting thumb over her palm, I stepped closer, never breaking the contact. "I forget your name, though. You told me it this morning, what was it again?"
"Kelsey," the girl spoke softer than a whisper in the wind. "My boyfriend used to call me Kel-bel."
What a horrid nickname. It sounded like a poor joke to comment on her hips or thighs. Were boys so unoriginal these days?
"That's a lovely nickname.” I said pleasantly, keeping up with the act. It was like delivering lines from a script for prime-time television. “Does he not use it now?"
She shook her head, sadness dampening her mood even under the spell. "We're taking a break. But I know better. ... He's waiting to admit he slept with his best friend."
Instinct won out again. I sighed softly. This was almost too easy to do. Moving my hand up her arm, I ran my fingers in a circle in the crook of her elbow, watching her glide closer to me. Her hips brushed against mine, naked chest touching mine. Her nipples had already begun to tense, as if they knew what they would be in for.
"But he's not the only one who isn't sure what she wants... is she?" I suggested, leaning down. Gently, I pressed a kiss to one of her cheeks. "You've dreamt of girls, haven't you Kelsey?"
"My family would kill me if they found out."
"Then we'll make it our little secret." I kissed her other cheek, trailing my lips towards hers, kissing the side of her mouth. "No one has to know."
Kelsey nodded, glazed eyes brightening for a brief moment. She pressed up against me, covering my mouth with hers, fingers splaying across my back. The straps of my bikini top came undone with a simple tug. I moved my body away from hers to let it drop onto the cold, wooden ground.
She was fit, even more than I noticed from afar. Her toned body clenched under my soft, chilled fingers as I trailed them down along her chest, brushing her hipbones lovingly. Her bikini bottoms were the tied kind, and with a simple tug I knew they could come undone.
But that would make it too easy.
"You like that?" I teased, brushing my fingers and trailing my nails along the sensitive flesh near her private place. Kelsey leaned her upper half back, biting and sucking on her lower lip. Her arms hung uselessly at her sides, paralyzed by the spell of my fingers.
I dipped my hand into her bottoms, brushing the small nub of hair. She tensed again, sucking in a sharp breath. I pressed slightly, parting the folds, and slid two fingers over her clit in a sensual tease.
This time, she cried out, working the frail sound through her open mouth. It acted like a switch, and she moved her hands onto my chest, massaging my breasts. Her fingers worked at my nipples, rubbing them until they stood alert and tight.
I rubbed her sensitive spot again, working it between my finger and thumb in a slow burn. Her hips gyrated, begging for more. Or was that what she was whispering through her little cries? I didn't care. Her hands and feeble sounds had begun to take their toll on me. I could feel the rise of the twisted darkness within, calling out to her precious soul like a lost traveler to a pair of headlights. I needed to feed. I needed her soul, orgasm be damned.
Moving my other hand away from her back, I ran it up the insides of her thighs, slipping through the side of her bottoms and finding her damp, ready to go. Keeping my fingers still steady on her primed nub, I used two fingers and plunged into her.
Kelsey's hips bucked, and she moaned in esctasy. "Oh my God..."
I shushed her with my mouth, kissing her hard and biting her lips. "Good girls learn to keep quiet. "
My fingers began to work faster, thrusting in and quickly pulling out. I worked her clit with the steady twist and rub of my fingers, but used my other hand to sprint, pumping her like her favorite vibrator. I felt her hands grip harder at my chest, until they slipped around my back and clawed at my skin. She clung to me, digging in her nails and arching her back as she bit back another moan.
I could sense it, the start of her end. It warred perfectly with my need to feed. Her aura poured off of her in waves of white and red, flickering furiously. Pressing her back into the side of the tent, I kissed her neck and sucked on the skin. Her nails dug deeper. My fingers drove harder, faster, and I heard her cry out that she was near the end.
The second she climaxed, the monster within came out to play. I didn't fight the change, I hadn't in a long time. We got along, allowing each other time to enjoy the spoils of our fun. She just happened to enjoy the best part.
I hovered my mouth over the girl's, planting one more soft kiss to her lips. Then, with a steady inhale, her soul became mine.
Taking a soul was like drinking the sweetest smoke and coldest glass of water at the same time. The rush of emotions that came with taking a mortal's soul was like a reset button to the body, rejuvenating me to the first day of my life all over again. The cold of her soul came with the ripping from her body, as it split from her spirit and left her the empty husk of a corpse I'd come to wake up to every time I slept over with a lover.
Kelsey's body shuddered under mine, and slowly I felt her slip away from me. Making sure she didn't collapse and disturb the small tent, I caught her, lowering her to the ground in a quiet heap. She did her job, now it was time to enjoy the darkness that came with death. Or whatever came with lack of life.
I was quick to tie my bikini top again and slip out of the tent, careful that no one was watching the area closely. I didn't want to be around when they found the pretty little girl dead. I walked back across the warm sand, enjoying the heat from both the sun and the ground radiate through me. Only right after a feed did I feel so alive, so close to what I could only guess would be a touch of humanity. Back behind the wheel of my pretty blue porsche, I eased out of the parking lot and took my time driving home, basking in the never-ending head-turns that came with driving my car.
I was just beginning to wonder how long that mortal girl’s corpse would lay in the changing tent on the beach, when two guys in the car alongside me started waving their hands and arms. Frantic, like buzzing flies attracted to a light. I glanced over at the pair, raising an eyebrow.
One of them pointed at the windshield, mouthing the words, “There’s something on your car.”
I stared. Something on my car? Doubtful at best. I wasn’t the type to mar such lovely handiwork with decals and shitty paint jobs using spray cans. I turned away from the flailing pair, internally willing the light to turn green faster. Any longer around the pair, and I’d probably catch their stupid. I quickly skimmed the windshield, running from left to right in a single glance.
That’s when I saw it. A tiny, little piece of paper wedged in the windshield wiper. My mood darkened. Someone touched my baby while I was out on the beach? I’d break their fucking neck. Whoever tacked it to my car made sure it wasn’t going to fly unless I turned on my wipers.
I pulled into the driveway, parked the damn car, and was out all in a heartbeat. I couldn’t wait to take that damn paper out from the wiper, burn it in the fireplace for a giggle. If I was really in the mood to be a sadistic bitch, I could trace their scent from the paper, and shove it far enough up their ass that they’d gargle intestines for a month. With a quick jerk of the wrist, the paper was between my fingertips, bent where it had been pinned under the wiper.
I only had to look at the card for a fraction of a second before I felt my face go
blank. I turned the card over, taking in the red writing and the picture on the back, this one different than the last.
It was another mini tarot card. Like the last one, it had my name. Just like the last one, it had the words nella morte viviamo written on it.
Screw with me once, shame on you. Screw with me twice…
Fuck me.
I MUST HAVE STARED at the card for hours.
The moment I realized what was in my hand I had bolted inside my home, and got rid of the damn thing. And by got rid of it, I mean I slapped it on the glass coffee table in the living room and stared at it like it was a crying toddler covered in feces.
Compared to the clean, crisp white layout of my main room of entertainment, the tiny grey card was like smear of ash in the room, infuriating me. Heels on the white, pristine marble, I paced in front of that tiny ass piece of paper until I felt something within me snap.
How long was I looking at the damn thing, trying to find some hidden mystery? It felt like hours, but the clock on my living room wall told me differently. Seven minutes, to be precise.
Someone was following me. Someone who didn’t care that I could tear out their arteries without so much as a single blink, someone who probably got off on the idea of their dark temptations blossoming to life by making me their victim. Either way, there was someone making themselves known in my life, for reasons I didn’t understand.
I sat on the white leather sofa across the room, planting both hands alongside me. Until now, the last ten years had been marvelous. Endless parties, endless bodies, all the blood and souls I could get my hands on. My fingers splayed across the cushions. The couch alone held many of my first memories, like the first time I ate out two girls before fucking them with a strap-on. When the first one had died, I had sliced her open so her blood could coat the leather like a thin layer of water on the porch. Surprisingly, the second girl had been more than willing to take it from behind, on all fours in her friend’s life blood. The thought alone brought a rush of need through me.
Dark Temptations Page 3