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Even as the beast within me rises, and the smell of her blood draws me to act - even as I watch from afar, unable to remove my eyes from the flesh of her neck - I will never abandon my chase.
I need only be strong enough to resist the call of my kind. As long as I can contain my wild urges with promises and eventualities… reassuring myself that the taste of her blood will come in time… I know that I needn’t pull away.
That night, I wait beside the bar, as I always do, for Quinn to come out. I’ve learned her name, and a great deal more about her, through my endless curiosity and through the skills I’ve acquired as a PEACE officer.
I’ve heard about her failed education, and her brother who left for the army. I’ve heard about her mother who never noticed her, and how she hates to knit, sew, and crochet because her mother had a passion for it. We may have never spoken, but I feel a close kinship with her.
But you must never get too close, I remind myself. She can never know who I am. Every moment I spend in her company, I risk her safety and my livelihood.
When I tell myself I can have a taste, I know that I’m lying.
She leaves the bar late into the night, locking the door behind her. The door sticks, so she struggles against it as she forces it closed.
She’s been told by her coworkers that it’s dangerous to walk alone at night. She’s been told that she could never know what strange beings walk the streets after dark, be they muggers, gang members, or werewolves.
They’ve never heard about me.
She has a stubborn fire that fuels her every action, and her reactions to their concern is always indignant.
She thinks she can look after herself, but I disagree. I’m not the only vampire that walks these streets, and my brothers and sisters are far less kind.
Quinn wheels around, and I run into a nearby alleyway, a bit too preoccupied with my own thoughts to blend properly into the dark of night.
“Okay!” She shouts. “We’ve done this dance long enough. Now show yourself!”
Perhaps her work friend Rory said something to set her off - she’s not usually this hostile.
I clench my fists at the thought. Rory will not get in the way of my conquest. Quinn is mine to claim, and nobody can interfere with that, lest they face the full extent of my wrath.
But as far as I’m concerned, I’m her imaginary friend.
I tell myself that as I stand in the alleyway, now fully concealed by the night.
The reality may be more complicated.
She stands expectantly alone, resolute in spite of the passing trucks kicking water up from the streets. Everything in me compels me forward - to greet her, to taste her, to lose myself in the splendor of her blood.
Stop being wretched, I tell myself. Come closer to her… a little greeting cannot hurt.
But I wait in the darkness of the night. To me, ignoring this call is like refusing to eat or drink as a human in spite of starvation. I know myself well enough to know that approaching is never a good idea.
To succumb to that temptation is to kill. A mere taste of blood cannot be enough for me.
“Well?” She calls out. “I’m waiting.”
I watch her from the alleyway, still obscured by the night, fighting my body’s urge to move forward with every ounce of my willpower.
After enough time, she looks down at her phone and decides to continue walking.
“Good,” I whisper. “Keep walking. You don’t want to be late for work tomorrow.”
I need to be more careful. When I follow, I shadow her every movement, and never let the distracting cacophony in my mind take hold. I am a rush of foul thoughts and urges, and the beasts inside me wish to perform every foul thought and urge on Quinn.
She will be yours, I say to myself. She’s yours to claim alone.
But now is not the time or the place. For now, this chase must continue.
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