Lucene releases my skull, and I fall forward, face-first into the muddy grass of the graveyard. I stay prone, waiting for another blow to land, but nothing happens so I tentatively crawl up to all fours.

Through my aching ribs, I manage to half-mumble, “I don’t know who I’m supposed to be any more.” I lift my gaze but can't look at her. Shame swirls. “What’s wrong with me?”

She circles to crouch in front of me and sighs. “You really let that human get in your head didn't you?”

I dry swallow. “Something in his blood. A… serum, he said.”

Fuck, I’m in pain. Still not healing.

She doesn’t touch me again. Stands and walks away.

“Don’t go.” But she’s already gone, leaving me alone with my conflicting thoughts.

Adam’s voice echoes:

I’m freeing you.

Well, freedom sucks right now. Lucene’s left me, I'm bruised, my dress is muddy, and my head’s overflowing. All I know for sure is the separation as he walked away tore me in two. What is that? Love? Or need?

Is it him or his Voodoo blood I crave?

Woozily, I glance up and focus, pulse ratcheting at a new terror. The moon’s fading and the pink hue of dawn licks at the horizon. I’m not healing and can’t transform. Can't flee.

Fuck. FUCK.

I can only crouch here in the weeds, watching the blackness gradually lighten. If I don't crawl to safety soon, I’ll smolder, then burn into the ground with the rotting dead around me, graves demarcated by haphazard stone stacks.

Flitting my eyes left and right, hunting for shelter, there's a commotion in the middle-distance. A curvy silhouette appears and my heart thumps. It’s Lucene, dragging a body, his head hanging limp.

When she reaches me, she dumps the man alongside.

“You came back.”

She huffs, “Don’t make a thing of it. Drink.”

I roll over to face him. Eww. “Luce, he’s pissed himself. I’m not—“

“Yeah, well, a passed-out drunk is all there is around here.”

She squats, grabs his wrist, bites, and shoves his dripping flesh against my lips. ”Drink or die.”

My stinky meal moans. Instinct returns, and I open my mouth to swallow the blood dripping down my tongue. Metallic. Normal-ish. I swallow again, then grab his wrist and latch on. As I gulp, the pain in my body lessens. Begins to heal. I make eye contact with Lucene, her expression unreadable.

She tilts her head up, then yanks his wrist away. “That’ll have to do. The sun’s coming.”

I hold out my hand, and she accepts it, tugging me up.

“Can you transform?”

“Probably.”

I concentrate and my body tremors. Resists. I grit my teeth. Try again, and clumsily double over, dissolving into bat form while Lucene effortlessly transforms beside me. She nudges my wings, and we lift.

I’m too weak, low and slow. But she flies alongside anyway, continually nudging, encouraging, the inexorable sunrise chasing us. I don’t know if we’ll make it home before daybreak.

Up here, I'd always felt free. Now I'm less sure. I glance at her. She should leave me; save herself, but doesn’t. Instead, she flies close enough that our wings touch. If bats could cry, I probably would.

The towering rows of cypress finally rise into view. They give me the strength to fly faster. The tips of our wings begin smoking as the bayou appears beneath us and we descend. Just a little farther.

With a final dive, we swoop into the shack moments before the sun breaches the horizon, skittering to a halt on the dusty floor.

It's several seconds before we unfurl and stand. I'm still shaky and lean against her as we descend to our home below. I collapse back against the cool wall, slithering down the rough stone to sit, knees bent.

She regards me. “I won’t let him have you.”

I’m not sure if that’s a threat or a promise.

Others from the surrounding hives pay us little regard, wandering through the interconnecting chambers below ground. The place will soon be quiet as they rest, but right now there's a low-level buzz that's palpable. An energy. Tonight is The Big Feed.

Carnival season in the French Quarter is always a blast. Vampire Thanksgiving. Most humans, overhyped on the party atmosphere, will blame the cocktails, Voodoo, magic, whatever, for the bite marks.

When they stumble back to the carnival from the shadows, drained and delirious from a frantic fuck, they'll pick a story and dine out on it. Even back in their humdrum lives and drab offices, they'll exacerbate the myth and wonder of New Orleans Mardi Gras. The tourist board ought to thank us.

Tonight is the culmination. Fat Tuesday, where our usual masks become de rigeur and we can thread among the partygoers unencumbered by law that's lifted for the day.

But I'll need strength if I'm to join them.

I raise my head. Eye the pristine dress that hugs her frame. Her power. “Thank you.”

Lucene doesn't acknowledge. Probably still pissed off. “Come on. Bed.”

I stagger to my feet and follow her as she sashays to our chambers at the far end of the labyrinth. Sometimes we sleep alone. Now is not one of those times. 

Despite there being no doors, I peel my ruined dress down, panties with it, and unhook my bra, letting everything pool at my feet. Lucene copies as I clamber onto the bed and slip beneath the sheet. She follows. Curls around me and strokes my leg.

“How much have you had?”

“Of Adam? Not much. There's no need. One hit is intense, like you wouldn't believe. A rush. A waterfall inside. Light and heat and instant satisfaction. And raging desire. Raging.”

She roams a fingertip up my side. “You sound like a billboard ad.”

My voice is distant. “It's incredible, Luce.”

Her fingertips trail to the swell of my chest. She cups one breast. “Lots of things are incredible.”

“Yeah, but what if… what if that's what we're missing?”

“Missing?” She squeezes, and I take a breath.

“Yeah. Purpose. Empathy. Love.”

Her grip tightens, and she flicks the nipple. “Is that what this is? Love?”

“I don't know. Yeah, maybe.” I gasp as she pinches the cap. “Do you remember what love felt like before?”

“Of course.”

“And is it the same now?”

She doesn't answer. Just toys with my breasts, making me shiver despite her warmth against my back.

“Don't you tire of it all? The feeding. The eternal… pointlessness? What if there's more? What if we could become… more? Do good in the world. Change things.”

“And he's the key?”

“Well… yeah. I guess. He's opened my eyes. Made me feel again.”

Lucene lets go of my stiff nipple. “He's made you dependent.”

“I've been dependent for over 400 years. What's changed?”

“This has. You have. He's fucked you up.”

We lie there, the room lit only by a single fat candle that flickers and fizzes in the occasional draft. She dusts my skin.

“Is it reversible?”

I shrug. “He said I'd never be the same again. But it's temporary unless I'm exposed over time. He didn't say how long. Might already be too late.”

Silence.

She shifts. The next thing I know, the scent of blood hits me, and her wrist is in my face.

I twist away from it and stare back into her eyes. “No. We all know the risks.”

Her wrist drips, unwavering, onto my chest. “Do we?” She lets out an exasperated sigh. “Nobody knows for sure. Myth and hearsay. But… what if?”

Pushing her arm down, I shake my head. “I can't do that to you. I love you too much.”

“There's that L word again. Don't be so pigheaded, Eva. You're an elder. You have a hundred years on me. It's worth the risk. A one-time offer. For you.”

She raises her wrist again, the crimson puncture wounds still leaking, splashing my nipple.

I shake my head. “There has to be another way. Maybe research notes at his lab?”

Lucene lowers her wrist. Says nothing.

“Anyway, what if I want it? What if I can be better?”

She looks away. “You can't fuck with evolution. It's unnatural.”

“And yet, you were about to offer me your blood?”

A heavy sigh leaves her body. “That's different.”

“No it isn't. And you know it.” I stroke her cheek. “This is who I am now.”

She grabs my wrist, tighter than strictly necessary. “Fuck, Eva. Where's your spirit? Your anger? Your fight?”

I shrug again.

In an instant, she shoves me onto my front and rolls on top. Sits, pinning me to the bed, then slithers down until she's straddling my knees.

I'm not expecting the spank, let alone the relentless volley of cracks that follow it. I cry out as my cheeks blush, warmth spreading beyond each stinging slap.

I squirm when she pauses and massages. If anything, the heat is amplified and I groan into the pillow.

Her rhythmic squeezing slows. “Come on, Eva. Get mad.”

Both hands leave my butt and crash down simultaneously. I bite the pillow and hiss as the pain rockets through me. She doesn't stop there. Slows to a measured rhythm, alternating the spanks to each glowing orb, letting the impact seep in fully before issuing the next.

Every strike releases dizzying sparks that lick at the inside of my skin. I rock my hips and moan, trying to twist away from the onslaught but she pins me. Slithers a hand up to bunch my hair in her fist and tugs my head free of the pillow.

“Don't be shy, my love. Let me hear you. Let them hear you.”

I'm unsure what she means, but don't have time to dwell on it before her bare hand cracks my flesh. The stroke ricochets off the stone walls and my moan follows, fading to nothing before the next blow to the same cheek rings out. My cry merges with it. Again. Again.

She switches hands, pulls my mane and spanks the opposite cheek, over and over as I scream. And drip.

At a break, she slips her hand between my legs. Rubs and tuts. “This is therapy, bitch. You're not meant to be enjoying it.”

She trails her hand over my sensitive, reddened flesh, and I wince before she traces up my back to cover my mouth and nose with her sticky palm. Smearing my arousal, I nuzzle into her touch, lovingly at first until I realize she's suffocating me. Panic rises at being barely able to breathe. Immortality has limits, and oxygen is one of them. I struggle against her, then freeze as, beyond my tear-stained vision, shapes form. A gathering by the entrance to our chamber.

They're watching. Crowded, some on tiptoes peeking between heads. A silent vigil at their high priestess being gradually undone.

Shame twists my gut but something else, too. A flicker that I can't latch onto at first. Deep. Resonating. Joining the thrum that seeps from my blushed skin into my belly against the sheets.

Before I can determine the source, Lucene lets go. I gasp, hauling in air, lungs burning as she points at an onlooker, then at the shelf where the candle flickers.

Dread surfaces. I know what's stored there. My voice is ashen. “No…”

She climbs off me to stand at the foot of the bed. Cool air prickles my ass while she steps into the harness held by her assistant and secures the straps.

I know I could stop what's coming, but part of me knows she's right. I need this. Need to feel again. Properly. And if it's at the blunt end of the fattest strap-on dildo we own, so be it.

We've only used it once, and I took about half before submitting. When she spits and smears saliva up and down the silicon, I whimper. This time will be different.

She leans over, trails two digits up my spread thighs, and plunges them in me.

“Filthy bitch, look how wet you are. Come here.”

It's not even a request. She crooks her fingers and starts to drag me by the cunt towards her as I scrabble to assist. Eventually, my legs dangle from the edge, toes dusting the floor, she slips her fingers free and replaces them with the head of the dildo. Swipes it through my juices, toying with my entrance, worming maybe an inch in. I'm already moaning at being split.

She pulls out and tugs me fully off the bed to my knees that scrape the cold floor. The silicon dangles, tip wet. It's fucking colossal.

“Open wide.”

Nudging my lips, she jams it in. Fuck, my jaw aches, and only the head has disappeared. I drool over it. Moan as strings loop and sway to dangle and drip to my knees, but she doesn't stop until I'm a gagging mess, making deplorable, obscene gurps that echo off the uneven walls.

All I can do is groan and choke around the stuffed toy as the heat rips through me, and my treacherous pussy leaks to the floor.

There's still a good three or four inches of the toy unclaimed when she backs out, leans down to kiss my reddened lips, and grips my hair in her fist. Hauls me up, spins me and tosses me over the bed edge like I don't matter, red ass presented. Submitted.

There's silence, like the onlookers can't believe what's unfolding. I can't either and the fire inside me tingles. Moreso when Lucene directs her assistant to strip, crawl onto the bed and spread her legs, so this bitch has something to cry into.

I don't know her, but as she slides the delicate fuzz of her pussy towards me on the sheets, I crave to lose myself in her divine wetness.

That's when Lucene reintroduces the toy. And doesn't hold back.

I’m driven forward, propelled face first into the girl and wail into her pretty cunt as the toy sinks deeper. Deeper. It widens me. Burrows inside then vacates, only to be slammed back in, a few millimetres further each time.

“Ohhh fuck fuuuck yess.” My pleas are muffled but spill into the room between thrusts.

Lucene seems amused. “Think you can take it all now, do you, love?”

“Mmhmmm.”

Dragging the mammoth toy out with deliberate slowness, it exits fully and my lips begin to close in its wake. Without warning, she slams in deep and I scream, my pussy on fire. She leans over me. Nips my ear. “Angry yet?”

I shake my head. Speech eludes me.

“Oh, like that is it?”

Before I can even make sense of what's going on, she scoops my hair in both fists and tugs my tongue away from the girl's sodden snatch. Uses the leverage to pull me towards her, burying another inch of the monster inside me. I snarl and pant. No coherent words form.

“Come on. You can take it all.” She grits her teeth and hisses through them, “Yess. Get mad. I'm gonna fuck that pathetic human out of you.”

I'm aching to touch my clit and slither a hand in front of it, fingertips zeroing in. My jaw drops, and a strangled squawk bounces off the girl ahead of me when Lucene withdraws and pounds in. I mash my jewel as she sets up a ferocious rhythm, using my hair like reins to impale me on the colossal toy.

I've no idea if I'm taking every inch. It certainly feels like it. My pussy squelches and drips, impossible heat and juices forced from me, trickling over my knuckles as I draw tight circles on my sensitive nub.

Someone—I think it's me—starts begging. “Yeah. Fuck me. Ruin me. Make it fucking hurt.”

Transferring her hold to one fist, she shoves me into the girl's pussy and uses the palm of the free hand to rain more slaps on my already hot ass. Unfiltered pain rockets through me, swirling the fat toy. Fresh juices lubricate its passage, and the next thrust bottoms out.

“Yeah. That's it, my pretty fucking slut. Feed off it. Take it. Show them you're mine.”

I'm not sure if it's embarrassment, pain, anger or pleasure that dominates, but something in me snaps, and I mash fingertips into my clit, circling roughly. Lucene batters my stretched cunt with the meaty strap-on, and I fall apart, greedily lapping and slathering the clit of the snarling vampire who rocks her hips up to meet my tongue, cumming noisily.

My orgasm doesn't rise organically. It smashes into me like I've run into a fucking wall. My pussy flutters, and I scream with each hip lunge as I ripple around the invasion. She buries the toy in, keeping my face jammed against the girl’s dripping slit as my body soars and hates and loves and jerks against them both, walls gripping and releasing the silicon monster.

Once more, deep inside, something twists. Ignites. A spark of excitement, rage, humiliation, something at being treated this way in front of an audience of mostly strangers, but it's eclipsed and extinguished by the tsunami of my climax.

As the tremors lengthen and pulse, I snap my head up towards the doorway. Bare my fangs and snarl, “Go!” My voice is not my own, more a feral animalistic growl, but the watchers scatter while spasms wreck my insides.

Lucene pulls her hips back and collapses on top of me, tits pressing into my back, crushing us both to the bed. Her sticky cock rests on my ass, my gasps swallowed by the delicious pussy that still flutters against my mouth.

I gradually become aware of a tongue tracing my ear. Her whisper. “Fuck him, you’re mine.” 

Slithering my hands up the legs of our guest, both girls cover my hands with theirs. We become one body as my panting slows, taut muscles turn to jelly, and I close my eyes.

~^o^~

I wake with my hand cupping my pussy. Fuck my fast healing. I wanted to still feel where she was, but the soreness is gone. As is our bedmate.

A clean sheet covers me—an unexpected touch from Lucene. Her lingering scent hangs in the air. Turning my head, I sniff the pillow. Odd I’ve never thought much about her scent before. And right now, I can’t recall Adam’s at all.

They’re so different…

She takes what she wants without apology.

He confidently persuades.

She wants me as I've always been.

He sees I can be more.

Her fingers dig in.

His hands steady me.

But both want to tug me in different directions.

I sit up and cast the sheet aside in frustration. I’ve seen two sides of myself. Which do I prefer? The light thing is new, exciting, but like a new lover, the novelty might fade. Then there’s what happened in the graveyard. I could have burned into the soil.

Now? I’m craving blood again. A voice in the back of my head chants: Let it burn.

I listen.

The chambers are quiet. Too quiet. Slipping out of bed, I pad out into the hallway and pause. Nothing. Everyone’s gone. The night must have come while I slept.

But Lucene wouldn’t have left without me unless… Adam. She’s making the choice for me.

~^o^~

It doesn’t take long to pick up on his scent—its pull is stronger since we fucked. And I was right, Lucene is with him.

I land and stay in the shadows to watch it play out. Once I step into view, I might have to choose between them, and I’m not ready for that.

I gaze at her in awe. She’s a beautiful nightmare tonight. A spiked black corset binds her breasts. Barely. The skirt—sheer in all the best places—cut high in the front with a long, shredded mesh trailing behind. Her mask's painted as if she’s crying blood, usual sleek hair styled kinky and wild. Who will seduce whom?

She perches hands on her hips. Defiant. Adam, a wall of muscle, dwarfs her, but she’s surprised many who mistook her small frame as weak.

“You led me up here.” He gestures around the rooftop bar. “Why?”

Her nails, tips sharpened like daggers, rake down his chest to his crotch, outlining his cock. “You’re the little scientist who drugged my Eva.”

He stills her hand. “Who are you to her?”

“I’m whoever she needs me to be. Right now, her protector.”

“I’m helping her.”

“You’re changing her.”

“Enlightening her.”

Lucene snaps in a blink, raging in his face. “She’s perfect as-is!” Yanks her hand free from his.

He blocks her forearm before her nails gouge his throat, clearly stronger and faster than she expects.

She steps back. “So, you shoot up ‘roids, too.”

“Nothing wrong with being the best you can.”

She smiles. Lunges again. He catches her by the wrists, and they slam into the rooftop railing.

Still held, she spits, “You made her crave you!”

Adam shakes his head. “Only to show her a different life.” His voice softens, and he tilts his head away, neck exposed. “Drink. You can feel it, too. You're curious."

I think she might, until she headbutts him, cracking his nose hard enough that blood sprays and he releases her wrists. “Never!”

“You don’t understand.”

“No, you don’t understand, serpent. There is no Adam and Eva.”

“That’s Evangeline’s choice, not yours.”

Lucene slices his face. He wasn’t fast enough this time.

Fuck, more blood, its scent drifting. Affecting me. Drawing me.

She still resists him. “Say that name again. I fucking dare you.”

He lifts his chin and meets her eyes, ignoring the bloody lines on his cheek and dripping nose. “Evangeline.”

My shadow stretches as I swoop between them, a stark second before Lucene explodes with fangs bared. I block her attack.

“Don’t!”

She staggers backward like I’ve stabbed her. “You’re protecting him?!”

“I… I don’t know. Just stop. Please, Lucene.”

Her mouth opens, then closes, choosing to swallow whatever venomous words she had ready.

I step back to eye them both. Here we stand, like the devil’s pitchfork as trumpets blare below. Another parade’s en route. The celebration’s ramping up, masked partiers oblivious to the dangers threading among them.

Hellfire flashes in her eyes toward Adam. Her tone’s ice. “I won’t let you have her, even if it's the last thing I do.”

He doesn’t flinch. “She can choose. I’m not afraid of you.”

“You should be.”

She turns to me. “You know where your home is,” then hops up onto the railing and steps off. Adam gasps, but I soon see the bat break the roofline and disappear into the night.

He reaches out and spins me into him. “She’ll come around.”

“She won’t.”

“Then we both can’t exist in your world.”

I let his words sink in. From Lucene’s mouth, that would have been a threat. But from his, it's more a rational conclusion.

I touch the blood running down his face. “Does it hurt? And your eyes are black. I think your nose is broken.”

He shrugs it off. “It’s just pain.” Then cups my face, eyes narrowing. “Take me to your home… to the others. They’ll see what you see.”

“And what do I see?”

“A better future… with me.”

His blood is so close. He knows what I want.

“Go on. Taste.”

My eyes flick between his and his cut. One more taste, I lie, before sweeping my tongue up his cheek.

The light, the flashes, the raging desire all hit at once. I don't know who kisses who first, but his mouth is possessive, tongue thrusting against mine. Persuasive… no, more commanding now. We lose ourselves in the heat of the kiss until he breaks away and turns me, pressing my tummy into the iron railing.

“Look at them. Their so-called freedom.”

My eyes lock on the carefree partygoers beneath, unsuspecting that they're just food for my kind that mingle uninhibited. Prowling. Preying.

“You could change everything, Eva. Give them hope.”

He bunches my skirt over my hips and rips away my thong, flinging it over the railing.

“A gift to the party.”

I bend over the side of the building, watching the wind carry the flimsy black fabric in a slow descent before releasing it to land at the feet of a stranger. He picks up my panties and sniffs, then stuffs them into his pocket. Just another Mardi Gras souvenir.

The zip against metal teeth snaps my attention, before Adam’s cockhead teases my entrance. Nudges my pussy, barely in, then withdraws, toying with me again.

“Like the taste I’ve given you,” he whispers, “you want more, right?”

Fuck, I want more!

I try to push my hips back, take all of him, fingertips whitening on the metal rail, but he holds me in place. “Living on the edge is addictive, but taking the leap with me is…” He takes a breath and thrusts deep, knocking the air from my lungs. “So much more fulfilling.”

We fuck like crazies as the carnival kicks up a notch beneath us, whistles and horns drowning my escalating cries.

~^o^~

At first, he seems surprised we live in the dark belly of the bayou, but then the answers crystalize in his blue eyes—the isolation. A perfect setting for the rebirth of my kind.

My fingertips find his and entwine. “You’ve offered me so much, Adam.”

Cicadas scream from the surrounding trees. It’s a comforting cacophony. I tilt my head, brushing the tip of my cold nose against his warm throat. He holds steady. Doesn't need to trust me. With his spunk oozing from my slit and his blood twisted with mine, he knows I'm a foregone conclusion. I brush my lips against his neck. “Salvation. Isn’t that what you called it?”

His eyes light up. “Yes, Evangeline. For you and your kind.”

I have imagined it. More than imagined it—felt the warmth, the connection in our fucks, everything the voracious hunger has kept from me.

“Must feel good. All that power. Reshaping us into what you want.”

He pulls me tighter against him. Strokes my back. “It’s not about me. It’s your evolution.”

Evolution. Is evolution orchestrated?

I ball the edges of his jacket in my fists and raise my chin, my lips almost touching his. Deference. An offering. “You convinced me…”

I inhale.

“...almost.”

Something besides thirst claws at my insides, and I recall his words: It's just pain.

I lift him off the ground. His feet dangle, kicking futilely, and it's fully etched for the first time on his face—fear. Not fleeting like in the alleyway the day we met.

I needed to see it first hand. That realization. It provides me the strength to fling him backward.

He hits the inky swamp with a splash—a splash that attracts Chewy. Adam surfaces with moss in his hair and black slime dripping down his face. When he stops coughing and spewing murky water, he notices the glowing orange eyes reflecting the crescent moon.

He makes the rookie mistake of panicking. Boots kick, and hands slap at the water, trying to propel himself toward the edge. Chewy’s grey armor breaks the surface as he begins slithering toward Adam, slow and with one purpose.

“Please!”

I reach out towards him. One hand. Then there's movement from a nearby branch, and Lucene drops behind me, slipping her arms around my waist. “Lab’s toast.”

I can’t wrap my arms around hers just yet. She rests her chin on my shoulder and watches. Her bare skin is cool. Familiar. Keeps me steady as the separation from Adam tears me up inside.

“An impressive swimmer,” she teases.

I swallow hard, telling myself I made the right choice. It’s only pain.

Chewy’s upon him. Opens his jaws and clamps down on one leg, rolls beneath the surface until he snaps the limb off. Adam’s screams transform. Become unnatural. He claws at the water. Reaches toward me. The gator drags him down, water churning. There’s thrashing. Lots of thrashing. I don’t look away. Need closure. My own salvation.

Her whisper startles me. “Pity his serum didn’t make him just a wittle bit faster.”

“Too soon, Luce.”

She licks my cheek. Her way of saying sorry, I guess.

Adam resurfaces in a circle of reddening bubbles. Chewy reappears, clamping down on what flesh is left. Both disappear beneath the water. I wait. Watch as the waves settle back into gentle ripples.

With Adam gone, a calmness descends, despite the wrenching pain. I sigh. Press back into Lucene's embrace. Tell myself it'll fade.

He showed me a beautiful light, but me and my kind belong to the darkness… for now.

~^o^~

It's late. Though the White House itself is ethereal in the full moonlight and there's movement inside, the lawns are quiet. Shadowy, just how I prefer.

Like dark mist, I cross them and steal inside, ever shifting. Bat. Me. Bat. Ducts. Corridors. Fast. Faster than perception.

I pour myself into the Oval Office. The President sits at his oversized desk, scrawling on a pad as I rise and drift silently behind him. Lean in by his second chin, fangs bared, saliva dripping. It's the sweetest way to incapacitate someone.

Inhaling first, I pause. Screw my nose up. Lift away. Ewww, fake tan.

I may be a vampire, but I have standards.

A floorboard creaks as I step back, and he whips his head up, gawping at my intrusion. The pen clatters and he reaches for the panic button on instinct. I'm faster and grip his wrist, its pulse weak.

“Who are you?”

I smile. Lick my fangs. "I'm the girl you're going to listen to, or this will be your last moment on Earth.” Placing his hand back on the desk, I indicate he should pick up the pen again. “There are gonna be some changes around here…”