Page 61 of Bleed

What the hell was that?

If he wasn’t interested, he could’ve just said so. Instead, he looked at me like…

I squeeze my eyes shut.

No.

I know what I saw.

The worst part isn’t even that he took off– it’s that for one stupid second, I really thought he was going to finally do it. That he actually wanted to bite me half as badly as I wanted him to.

And now I can’t stop wondering what would’ve happened if he’d stayed.

Chapter

Fourteen

ELLIOTT

The tips of my fangs press into my lower lip as I retreat upstairs, my vision tinting red around the edges. The bloodlust has always announced itself in the same way. A narrowing of focus, heightened aggression… difficulty distinguishing between impulse and reason.

Most vampires experience it.

Most vampires learn to live with it.

Unfortunately, I’ve never had the luxury of being most vampires.

Possessing the rare gift of Sapientia comes with certain advantages– enhanced cognition, accelerated learning, and a memory capable of retaining information with infuriating precision. Those traits have served me well enough over the years. They’ve helped me build a career, earn accolades, and convince the world I’m something more than a predator wearing a tailored suit.

None of those are the problem.

It’s the hunger.

Even now, more than a century after I was turned, it’s always lurking beneath the surface, waiting patiently for a moment of weakness. Most nights, I maintain control without issue. Tonight, however, I made the mistake of lingering in temptation longer than I should have.

My sire recognized the symptoms of Sapientia before I did. The fast learning, the memory retention, the fixation. At first, I considered it a blessing; a gift, even. Knowledge became its own form of intoxication– I devoured books with the same voracity other vampires reserved for blood, consuming information faster than I could meaningfully apply it.

Languages. History. Medicine. Mathematics.

I absorbed it all, retaining details with an accuracy that bordered on absurd. The intellectual gifts were easy enough to appreciate. The accompanying hunger was not.

My initial assumption was that the bloodlust would eventually diminish. That over time, experience and discipline would blunt the worst of it. Instead, it only grew sharper, more insistent, and less forgiving.

I then came to understand that the reputation of Sapientia hadn’t been built on enhanced cognition alone. Cases are exceedingly rare, but I’ve spent decades searching for evidence of others, combing through archived records and historical accounts in hopes of finding some insight into the phenomenon.

The results have been discouraging.

Every documented case ends the same way eventually: the hunger escalates, impulse control deteriorates, and rational thought gives way to obsession.

Then comes the violence.

Whether the condition is wholly supernatural, neurological, or some combination of the two remains unclear. The outcome, however, is remarkably consistent. The bloodlust always wins.

I have no intention of allowing it to win here.

Control is paramount– immediately removing myself from situations that could end in disaster and remaining in solitude until I regain a firm grip on my impulses.

I retreat to my bedroom, the outer lock engaging automatically as the door seals behind me. A second command activates the interior locks of my rooms, securing every exit. Then I pull out my phone and restrict my own access privileges, setting the locks to release in an hour. Long enough.