Page 18 of Into The Light

“Where are you from?”

The question sent my mind back to days long gone. A life I barely recognized. “The Scottish Highlands. The kingdom of Moray.”

“Wow. Scotland. I’ve always wanted to go there.”

“It’s beautiful.”

Tipping her head, she furrowed her brow. “You don’t have a Scottish accent.”

“I haven’t lived there in over six hundred years. I lost the accent centuries ago.”

She bit her lip and I wondered what it tasted like. “Oh, I suppose that makes sense.”

“And you? Where are you from?”

“Milwaukee. I only moved to Chicago eleven months ago.”

“I see.”

She pursed her lips and kicked her foot while she glanced around the room. She made me feel something I hadn’t felt in ages... longer than I could recall. Nervous.

She’s food. You don’t need to impress her. Just convince her to stay.

I did want to impress her though, at least connect with her somehow. A connection was another thing I hadn’t had in ages, nor cared much for it. Connections meant loss when you lived forever. I’d realized centuries ago the constant grief felt over burying those around you marred the joy of eternal life. Humans were no longer on my list of companions. Mark was an exception but only because I’d promised him immortality after several more years of service. He’d be around long after I grew weary of his constant insolence.

“Will it hurt?” Her voice quaked with the question.

“When I feed on you?”

She nodded.

“The first time hurts for a few moments. I’m told after that it can become quite pleasurable, euphoric even for some.”

“Just like sex,” she noted.

Her brazenness sat me back, but I appreciated it.

Biting her lip, she shifted in her chair. “Can we try it once before I decide? And if I don’t like it, I can still go?”

She didn’t know that the chance of me letting her leave was unlikely after I tasted the sweet red juice flowing through her veins. If she decided to go, I would try to respect her wishes, of course, but even now her scent stirred something deep within me, deeper than any thirst I had ever felt before.

A thirst I hoped I could control.

“Of course.” The lie rolled off my tongue with a hope that I could maintain my honor and respect her decision.

“So how do we do it? Do you like, just bite my neck? Do we use an IV? How does this work?”

“I prefer to feed from the vein. Your neck is preferable. I will be careful and quit long before you are at any risk.”

“You can control yourself?” she asked, a worried look on her face.

I liked that she thought things through. She was smart. Careful.

“Yes,” I said, hoping I wasn’t lying. It had happened to me many times in my youth, an unfortunate side effect that left casualties from time to time, but it had been decades since I had slipped. Another glance at the delicate lines of her face and I steeled my nerves. I wouldn’t allow harm to come to her. I couldn’t.

“Let’s try it. I’ll see if I can handle it,” she said.

“I think that’s a wise plan.”