by Gloria Watts
She resisted the night with its shifting shadows and silvery moonlight, growing pale and listless as she lay in the darkness beside him. Desire intensified, burnt deep, a slithering snake within her that gave no peace.
Her body grew weaker. She wondered why she resisted, unable to understand why his faded blue eyes and the curve of his smile brought a sensation she couldn’t name, a sensation she clung to despite her wasted body.
She hunted, scouring the dank alleys and derelict buildings until the rising sun turned the sky a milky-pink and drove her home. He lay asleep, the curvature of his cheek soft against the down pillow. The soft hiss of his breathing filled the room.
She lay down close to him, wrapped herself in his warmth and placed her hand flat against his chest. She felt the beat of his heart beneath her fingers. Uncontrollable desire ripped through her, searing her flesh and wiping her mind of all but her need. With a strangled cry, she took him.
She sat with him throughout the days. Only at night did she leave him, to hunt with a newborn strength that grew with each night’s taking. A half remembered feeling, one that she could barely grasp, slowly faded, until, when she looked at him, all that remained was the hot, sweet taste of his blood and the wild beating of his heart as she’d torn it from his chest.
Copyright © 2006 by Gloria Watts