Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
It will take time for him to get over the woman and the offspring, but get over them he will.
I’m here to make sure he does.
I bide my time. I spend the afternoon wandering the tiny Ohio downtown. I browse the five-and-dime. I get a milkshake and look out the window of the diner. I wander over to the car lot across the street and sweep my hand down the side of the brand new 1957 Ford Thunderbird. It is a beauty in Inca Gold.
It’s like… gazing at a sunny day.
I meet up with Ryet after dark. He’s already at the corner bar, drinking his sorrows away.
Drunk, actually. He is quite drunk.
His friends are all there. Johnny, or Tony, or Billy—whatever the hell men are calling each other these days. There are women too. Shameless sluts who think they might have a chance. If they wait for him, and pretend to be his friend through these terrible times, they might be the one invited into the empty bedroom that he no longer shares with his wife.
Sorry, ladies. He’s taken. I didn’t go to all this trouble just to give him over to the likes of you, now did I?
I chuckle to myself in my booth on the far end of the bar. I’m dressed like these people. Jeans, white t-shirt, cigarettes in my sleeve, and slicked-back hair. It’s quite a fun look, actually. The jukebox is pumping out a song called ‘All Shook Up’ and the kids are dancing in a corner.
It’s a jovial atmosphere. Too fun for a man in mourning. But this is the only bar in town.
Johnny, or Tony, or Billy tries to get Ryet to go home around ten. But the bar won’t close for another hour, so he stays.
The boys want to stay with him. That’s what your boys do. But they work tomorrow and Ryet has been given the week off to get over the loss of his family.
Isn’t that terrible? A week. To get over the utter destruction of your entire existence? It’s pathetic.
But he won’t be going back to work next week. He won’t even be going home tonight. Hell, this will be his last look at Ohio for decades.
Because Ryet is mine. Now and forever.
I leave before he does and go out to the alley. Then I strip off my clothes, take a deep breath, and shed the human form.
It’s not fair to approach him in my beautiful state. That would be cheating.
I need him to choose me. The real me. Wings, and fangs, and hideous face.
He needs to crave the monster.
If I just wanted another mindless minion, I’d hang out with Josep or Lucia, wouldn’t I? Or with the endless number of halfbreeds Lucia has started collecting. They will all be dead soon, so I don’t even try to stop that process.
I want Ryet, the real Ryet. And I want him to want me, the real me.
That’s the only way this will work.
So I become the demon bloodsucker that I am. And when he stumbles into the alley, drunk for nearly half a day now, I stand right in front of him with black wings outstretched.
He sees me, but he’s not frightened.
I never thought he would be. He must be my equal. Not an easy feat—I am quite spectacular. But the moment I saw Zecharyet Wagner ten years ago, fighting outside a bar two towns over, I knew he was the one.
And he’s so beautiful.
Have I mentioned that he’s beautiful?
Gorgeous. Much prettier than his late wife. I can’t take my eyes off him.
He pushes me out of the way, slurring an obscenity. But I catch his eyes and, well, it’s over.
That’s all it takes. Just a glance and he’s entranced.
The alcohol makes it a little bit more difficult. But he has no chance of getting away.
But I can’t enchant him into being my scion. That is a choice he must make. So I must sell him on the idea. Show him how good it could be. Never mentioning the downside, or the future, or the consequences.
He is agreeable—so drunk—and the particulars are ironed out with haste.
Then he’s in my arms. I embrace him. Holding him close. Our chests pressed up against each other as I lean down into his neck and push my teeth into his skin until the tips enter the jugular.
Ohhhh, he is sweet. And young. I love the young blood. It’s so intoxicating. He is nearly still as I hold him there, his heartbeat pounding through my head as I suck the life out of him.
When I pull back, he looks startled. Like he forgot, momentarily, that he was being eaten by a demon.
“What the fuck?” He barely manages these words.
But I put a finger on his lips to hush him up. “Be good now, Ryet. We’re almost there. Just one last step.”