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By: Linette Morgan

GRETCHEN GRINNED, HER teeth gleaming bright white in the florescent lighting of the bathroom.  She toweled off her hair and laughed as she watched the black smears of makeup starting to dry on her cheeks.  She had planned this perfectly.  Even her sister Laura would be none the wiser.  It was amazing to her that he hadn’t even screamed as she killed him, even in his drunken and drugged stupor, she had anticipated a feeble cry for help.

She had gone to him naked this time.  Determination glittered in her icy eyes when he summoned her to his bed, as he had done for so many horrible years.  Not that he minded her nudity.  Of course, he had thought it a sign of surrender after all the years of forced sex.

Gretchen had been careful as she tied her hair tightly atop her head, braiding it and winding it into a tight bun, from which no DNA evidence would escape.  She had worn no perfumes, not even the talc of Laura’s that she sometimes sprinkled into her panties before she went to bed.  Oh how he hated that talc!

She made sure not a drop of blood had dripped from the bed as she deftly sliced through the major blood vessels in his neck, arms and legs.  It simply pooled around and beneath him as she bled his alcohol-thinned blood from his fat, disgusting body.  She had carefully avoided the pulsing arteries.  Splattering fountains of blood would defeat the careful planning of his death.  Yes, she had planned it perfectly.

The single thing she hadn’t planned was the wetness seeping between her thighs. She did not anticipate the wracking waves from the pleasure that shook her very core. How could she have foreseen the intense erotic effects as she watched him exhale his last living breath?  She had smelled blood, tasted power and she wanted more!

 

JOCELYN PUSHED THE red button on the remote and the TV blinked into darkness.  What disgusting crap they showed on television lately!  Did people actually find these things entertaining? It was no wonder she never watched TV any more.

She threw the remote control down beside her and rose from the warmth of her sofa.  The muted squeaks of the midnight blue leather made her smile as she looked around her flat and moved with bare feet across the cool floor.  She had fought for years for this property, had given blood sweat and tears, quite literally, and had finally gotten the loft furnished as she wanted it.  The blue leather sofa and matching reclining chair, the chrome and glass end tables and coordinating shelves were her favorite furnishings.  Pristine white marble tiles, shot through with veins of cobalt blue were polished to a perfect shine before they were installed for the floors throughout.  Yes, her apartment was perfect, and it should be for the price she paid for it.

Her friends said she was wasting the spacious apartment living by her self.  Her family said she had enough money now to support them as well… She had made her fortune with no help from them, and she intended to keep it.  She had no intention of supporting her drunken mother and the tramp of a sister.  Now that she had finally gotten away from them, she intended to stay that way… Far, far away!  She had changed her phone number, yet kept the post office box where they sent their begging letters.  This was a safe distance to keep them.

Jocelyn made no secret of her roots.  In fact, she had exploited them perfectly to her advantage.  And the press loved her heart-wrenching, typical rags to riches, rural Minnesota farm girl story.  They fed on it like the crows do with road kill on the shoulder of the highway.  It gave her the publicity she needed to launch her notoriety in the circles of the rich and powerful.  No one could touch her now, though, at first, they all tried to bring her down.  Now, this vicious business woman was well beyond reproach.

Stopping at the mahogany bar she poured herself a brandy before moving into the teak and granite bathroom.  She bent to turn the water on, smiling as she watched the steam roll up from the rose colored, carved granite bath tub.  She added some gardenia oil and

the heavy scent filled the small room.  The wall the tub was against was a solid sheet of glass, but that didn’t matter when you were up on the twenty-second floor of a Twin Cities high-rise.   The view however, was incredible.  The twinkling lights of the city reminded her that she was on top.  She was the head of her class and no one could bring her back down to where she had started.  Not now, not ever.

Jocelyn let her clothes fall to the granite floor and stepped into the steaming tub, sinking in with a quiet hiss.  It was so hot, yet so wonderfully relaxing.  She lifted the glass of brandy to her lips and drank deeply.  Who said brandy was meant only to be sipped?  Whoever it was had lied!

Jocelyn pulled her dark, almost crimson colored hair up away from the water and wrapped it into a knot at the top of her head.  People had often commented on her hair, asking her what brand of color she used.  Jocelyn simply smiled and told them it was natural.  She didn’t care of they believed her, it was the truth.  Alabaster skin, soft, yet deep green eyes and the color of her hair suited her well, considering her birthday was Christmas Eve.

She thought of the past weekend, Saturday night, through to the tiny hours of Sunday morning.  He had been remarkable.  Of course, she knew he would be.  The way he had moved among the others in the art gallery was graceful yet powerful.  Alexander.  Just the name brought the warmth back to her very core.  She closed her eyes as she lay back and remembered.  Alexander…. Even the sound of his name in her mid was enough to send ripples of pleasure through her body as her hands slid over her breasts beneath the water.

Alexander was the opposite of her in appearance.  He was tall and powerfully built.  His skin, though softly pale, had the olive tones of a Mediterranean heritage.  His eyes were a deep, bitter chocolate brown and his hair was black as the night sky.

She felt his touch on her hair, like he was in the bathroom with her, lifting the long, almost crimson tresses from her pale skin.  She could feel his breath on her skin as those searing lips met with the pounding pulse beneath the creamy flesh.  Jocelyn was enjoying her little fantasy until searing pain lanced through her body as sharp teeth pierced her skin.  She tried to cry out, but his lips drew the life out of her protests.

Alexander lifted her nearly lifeless body from the cooling water and carried her to the bed they had shared on that single night.  She stared up at him, unable to move as he lay her down on the velvet and silk spread, glassy eyes pleading to him for mercy.  A single tear slipped down to caress her temple before disappearing into her loosely bound hair.  Jocelyn watched as he sank his deadly fangs into his own wrist and then offered it to her now pale lips.  She resisted but for a moment before she tasted him, then drank hungrily of his blood.  Alexander smiled gently and, after a minute or two took his wrist away, careful that he not curse himself by giving her too much.  At that very moment, a ripping pain lanced through her body.  She arched and howled with pain as she changed forever into her new self.   She was his now… Jocelyn was now his “offspring”, his lover, his very own demon!

With his guilt weighing heavily on his still heart, it was hard for him not to remember how he was transformed.  It was the summer between his junior and senior year in college.  He was going to be a CPA; Such an ironic course for the geek that he was.  He had been captain of the chess team, the math club, and the Future Businessmen of America.  Yes, he was a nerd, through and through.

He had met her that summer as he solicited his lawn mowing services around the neighborhood surrounding his college campus.  It had taken Marianne the better part of

the summer to seduce him, to gain his trust and his love.  For several years following that first summer together they had seen some of their vampire children leave their safety and love to ravage their prey, developing a hatred of humans as cattle and fueling their own self-loathing.  Marianne had succeeded in teaching him to love and adore humans, to bring them into this immortal circle with love and gentleness.  To him, it had been the most pleasurable way… It had been the right way.  But sometimes, the right way wasn’t enough.

Slowly, Jocelyn’s convulsions subsided and finally, Alexander watched her sleep.  She had much to learn, but not on this night.  This night was only for feeding the hunger she would have when she awoke.  Tonight they would move around the city feeding upon the helpless mortals.  Then they would sleep.  Tomorrow he would teach her of what she now was.  He would teach her how to stay alive, how to use the night to her advantage.  And when the sun sank again below the horizon, he would show her passion like she had never known.

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