Chapter 2: Love, Blood, and Fangs

Julia Locke POV:

I woke up, and I just left like … blah. My mouth was dry, I was thirsty, as I sat up it felt like my head was in a fog, and all I wanted was to go back to sleep. I raised my hands to rub the sleep out of my eyes. My pale, withered hands. I could see some of my hair to; grey, brittle stands. If I had deteriorated this much, then I was glad that I all could see in my bedroom mirror was my black dressing gown sitting up in bed.

I needed blood.

Fortunately for me, blood was something in plentiful supply. I could hear the strong heartbeats of five of my people spread throughout the house.

“Blood,” I called quietly.

The word had barely left my mouth when one of my people, a pretty young blonde appeared in the doorway.

“Time to feed, mistress?” she asked me.

I nodded and beckoned her to join me on the bed. She knelt in front of me and tilted her head to the side to expose her throat. I grabbed her shoulders and pulled her to me, sinking my fangs into her neck.

A sharp intake of air came from the girl, but it quickly turned into a moan.

I moaned too, but for a different reason.

The girl’s rich blood filled my mouth and ran smoothly down my throat, one mouthful instantly quenching my thirst. As I drank, I could feel a pleasant warmth spreading through my body, as well as strength as my vitality returned. Though it would be more accurate to say I was stealing both from her.

Humans might call this disgusting, but they can’t enjoy the addictive taste of blood the way my kind can, and they certainly cannot enjoy this warmth and vitality, or the euphoria caused by drinking it.

I took ten mouthfuls of blood from the girl before I let go of her, though I stayed to lap up the remaining blood until the wounds I had made stopped bleeding.

Once I was finished, I drew back to find a dreamy smile on the girl’s face, and a faraway look in her eyes.

Reaching out, I stroked her cheek, rousing her from the state she had slipped into.

As she came back to herself, the girl did not need to be reminded of what I needed her from next. Pulling out her phone she took a picture of me before she handed me the device.

Even though I have been alive, or at least existed through so much of it, it still amazes me how far humans and their technology have come. The photograph was one of my favorites since it allowed my kind to see ourselves without needing to commission a portrait. It was unfortunate that photographs had moved out of the mainstream, but I couldn’t argue with the convenience offered by smartphones.

Accepting the phone, I had to smile at the image on the screen. There I sat, young and beautiful. My luxurious, raven-black hair fell around my head in waves, my lips were full and red, and my skin glowed with the healthy pink complexion of a living human.

I returned the girl’s phone and excused her so I could get ready for the night.

The immortality and eternal youth that vampires enjoy can be fickle things. Both are tied to the amount of blood we consume, and the frequency at which we consume it.

Several good mouthfuls of blood had restored me to the appearance I had when I was first turned, but I would degenerate back into a crone if I didn’t feed again within the next few hours.

There were still others in the house I could feed from, but the issue was I had been feeding off them all for the last week, and it was time for me to give them a chance to recover.

If I wanted to drink enough to maintain my youth for longer periods, I would either need to rotate in another group to feed off or go out in search of new prey.

I smiled to myself. I hadn’t had a good hunt in weeks. It was time to change that.

Going to my wardrobe I shed my dressing gown and slipped on suitable hunting attire, a figure-hugging little black dress, and matching stilettos.

It really is a wonderful time when women can go out wearing so little. If I had tried to go out like this when I was still human, I would have been chastised for walking around naked. I called another of my people to help me weave my hair into a French braid.

Once that was finished, I allowed all my people to return to their homes.

With them gone, I made my way through the empty house to the garage. My vehicle of choice was a black, vintage Lincoln. I had acquired the car while it was the pinnacle of automobile fashion, and while its status had been diminished over the years, it still suited my needs.

Turning on the ignition, I drove out into an evening twilight, eager to see what kind of prey would be available tonight.