Chapter 7

The scream kept rolling, almost like a wave, coming in strong one moment then receding to a whimper before surging loud again. It caught Titus's attention as he headed home from the hunt. Especially since the piercing sound wasn't heard by his ears but rather echoed within his mind.

What magic is this?

Concentrating on the origin of the scream, Titus meandered through the slums he'd just hunted, following the psychic echo until he stood outside a vile edifice. It was as if all of humanity's depravity had at one time passed through this place, leaving a stain. He wasn't one to condone wanton destruction, but he was willing to make an exception in this case.

But he couldn't set it on fire. Not yet. Not when the sound came from this very building. He had to see what made the noise.

A moue of distaste twisted his features. The stench permeating the air would ruin his clothes and necessitate a thorough cleansing of his skin.

Do I really want to go inside?

Curiosity won over aversion, and with only a whisper of sound, he made his way into the building and climbed the stairs. A cloth held over his nose filtered the worst of the fetid odors assailing him but did nothing to dispel the disturbing sight of filth coating the steps he climbed.

Arriving at a dark corridor, he halted, for the screams had ceased. For a moment, he stood there, eyes closed, his body acting as an antenna tuned for a signal. The residue of the psychic cry hung in the air, clung to the very fibers of reality. He turned to stare at a door. Unremarkable. Dented. Scratched.

Locked.

As if that would stop him.

"Nebula." The word whispered from his lips and drew power from the very air itself. It didn't take much to activate this simplest of spells. He felt himself dissolve, the cells of his body losing cohesion and turning into a mist that crept under the crack between the door and the floor. He pulled all of his atoms into one area and re-materialized inside the poor excuse for a home.

At least he didn't need his handkerchief anymore. The astringent scent of a lemon cleaner and bleach permeated the air, a vain attempt to clean a place that needed more than a scrubbing. A firebomb came to mind.

On ghostly feet, Titus walked over to the figure huddled on a mattress, a frail form that seemed too slight to have sent out such a powerful astral sound. And unconsciously at that.

Who are you? And how was it he'd not encountered her before? Titus made a point of meeting all non-humans entering his territory. A smart vampire didn't condone surprises. Or possible enemies.

A sweet scent reached him, curling around his senses, making his recently quenched thirst flare to life again. What delicious treat is this? I want a taste.

Wanted, but didn't need. Titus had learned long ago to control his bloodlust. He pushed aside the urge to feed from this sleeping beauty. Instead, he crouched down and peered at the perfectly oval face that appeared so calm in repose. A woman, out of girlhood, but he couldn't have said how old, not without looking into her eyes.

Smooth, creamy skin was offset by dark brows and hair that lay twisted around her head. Her lips were full and pink, and even as he watched, they trembled as she whimpered in her sleep, a small cry that echoed much more loudly in his mind.

Titus reached out a hand as if to soothe, but stopped himself. He had no wish to wake her. Women tended to react badly when they opened their eyes to find a strange man in their bedroom.

They always asked, "Who are you? How did you get in here?" But usually screamed before he could answer, "I am the neighborhood bogeyman, come for dinner."

Titus never claimed to be nice.

The scream died off, the whimpers calmed, and the woman's features smoothed. She was experiencing a nightmare, an intense one, with the ability to send out a call. Fascinating.

Titus sat back on his haunches, contemplating her existence. What is she? Despite appearances, she's obviously not completely human. Nor lycan. Shapeshifters had a distinct, primal - make that animal-like - scent.

Titus had run into his fair share of Otherworld creatures in his lifetime. Things of legend. None of them bore this delicious scent.

Add in her magic. I've never felt a power like hers before. Effortless. No spoken words to initiate a spell. No noticeable pulling on the forces around them. It was as if her ability came from within. Innate.

Impossible.

Then there was her aura. Why can't I see it? It's as if it's been covered in a fog, one I can't penetrate. It bothered him. He could discern much of a person's intentions via the color of their aura - a special talent of his.

He felt dumb and blind, not something Titus was used to.

Why, I'm almost like a human in this moment.

The thought did not amuse.

He could touch the woman and attempt to read her thoughts, but given the shielding on her spirit, what kind of traps might her mind hold? Self-preservation had kept him alive this long.

If he were smart, he'd kill her right now. Unknown things tended to signal danger. However, intrigue stayed his hand. How long since something had fascinated him?

Intrigued or not, though, the surroundings she found herself in would not do at all if he was to get to know her and ascertain her purpose. I refuse to slum even to satisfy my curiosity.

Titus composed a mental to-do list. One that someone else would have to handle. Dawn approached, the prickling warning honed over centuries tickled at him. He needed to leave.

With a last lingering look, Titus muttered the magical word and vaporized his corporal body, this time choosing to slip through the window she'd left cracked. He misted down to the sidewalk before reshaping himself and heading for home. He waited a few blocks before calling for his driver. He'd have to make haste to arrive before the dawn.

Ensconced in the luxurious back seat of his expensive sedan, his mind whirled with his discovery. A new type of being. And a fetching one at that. Something his body had noticed. It had been decades since he'd taken a lover. Humans tended to be such fragile creatures, obsessed with aging and dying. They always eventually begged that he turn them. Once that happened, they no longer held interest for Titus. Fledgling vamps were only consumed by one desire, and while it involved the flesh, it wasn't the type Titus preferred.

For a long time, he'd searched for a companion, someone who could handle his dark side. His passion. One that would not prove as fickle as a succubus or bloodthirsty like a newborn vamp.

But he was getting ahead of himself. Sex wasn't the important thing here. That could be bought. What he couldn't purchase was the mystery of her existence, an enigma he planned to unravel.

He couldn't wait.

Titus entered his home - a large mansion within a gated community where no one asked questions - with a lighter step than he'd left it. As he stripped for bed, he dictated to his personal electronic servant, fondly nicknamed Sasha after the programmer who'd made it, and then died with the secret. He explained his orders in succinct terms, knowing his servant, Stefan, would understand them.

Basically, Titus wanted his day servant to find out more about the girl. Armed with the information Stefan would gather, tonight, when darkness fell over town, Titus would introduce himself to the intriguing stranger.

And his courtship would begin.