I was growling, regaining consciousness in the fervor of a ravenous thirst. I blinked at the light from the north facing windows. The veil of slumber was thrown back and I was fully alert and eyeing my surroundings. I found myself in one of the lounges on the ground floor, the one that opened up to the garden terraces of the expansive greenhouse. I remember wandering into the room and being overwhelmed by fatigue. I rose from the plush chair and glanced at the large French doors that were ajar, and the floral perfume flowing into the room. Exotic lilies, rare flowering fruits, and one of a kind roses were selected and groomed in order to create a completely harmonious blend of breathtaking fragrances.  

Standing at the doors I pushed them wider and peered into the oasis when my fingers brushed against something sticky. I saw a dark smudge on the edge of the door just above the lock mechanism. I brought the residue to my lips and tasted it lightly. A primal snarl rose up in my throat.  

“Young Richard fancied a walk in the garden." Terrence informed me. The manservant hadn't startled me; I had just detected traces of his delicate and mellow odour before he spoke. I turned to see him enter the room with serious face.

“Regrettably, the boy pricked himself on one of the rose bushes. He's been tended to.”  

“That boy! Where is he now?” My thirst was affecting my temper.  

“I left him with a hot bath and fresh clothes. He had expressed great interest in his personal hygiene. I facilitated, as best I could, such a remedy.”  

“The main bath then?” The man nodded and stepped aside as I dashed forward into the hallway behind him.  

In moments I had travelled through a mile of carpeted corridors and hallways and rounded the corner at the entrance of the small indoor pool. It was dimly lit by a few candled wall sconces. I quickly spotted movement in the corner. 

Richard's slender back was towards me and his hands were working along his shoulders with a bar of almond butter soap. The fragrant lather sluiced over and down his bony spine and dotted the surface of the water around his waist. The boy then moved his focus to the back of his neck, scrubbing his hairline and behind his ears. I watched him as he proceeded to his under arms and his abdomen. He was nearly covered in soap suds when I had shed my clothing and deftly slid into the water soundlessly.  

I watched from beneath the surface as he lowered his body and rinsed off the soap. After he resurfaced he was now facing me. The light retracting from the disturbances of the water's surface created shimmering ribbons and lace across his submerged skin. I noted how the light hairs dusting his body swayed with the motion of the liquid, shifting as he moved. He waded over to a set of steps and proceeded halfway up before he began to wash his legs. I slowly drifted closer and I rose up just enough to see along the surface of the pool to where he bathed. He was pensive and focused on the activity. I was nearly within reach of him when he began to thoroughly attend to his groin and buttocks.  

When he froze, I sensed his alarm. So, I pounced like a crocodile attacking an unsuspecting prey at the watering hole. To the boy's credit he didn't flee as I had expected. Instead he turned to defend and ward off my attack; fortunately I was swiftly inside of his reach before he could retaliate. I grappled him securely and pulled him into the pool as he cried out. He thrashed about so vehemently that when I let him go it took him half a minute just to right himself and regain his footing. I watched him innocently from the other side of the pool. Once he wiped the excess water from his face and eyes he blinked at me, panting and eyeing me with such shock. I could tell he was thinking a multitude of profanities, yet he gave voice to none of them. He simply glared at me with his dark eyes and pressed himself against the wall of the pool. He slowly caught his breath.  

Then the most astounding thing happened. His frown slipped just a fraction and a lone chuckle rose from his chest. It sounded like a cough, but I knew better. It was soon followed by another, and then the chuckling blossomed into abundant giggling and near hysteria of laughter soon burst forth. The near musical sound of Richard's mirth resounded within the bath and its echoes multiplied upon itself. He doubled over with the weight of it and hugged his stomach as it continued wrack his body. He finally stopped when tears filled his eyes and he looked over at me and we both realized that I had been laughing too. He and I both marvelled at this new sound. My laughter quickly faded like a dream you wanted to relive but had begun to forget already. All that was left for us to do was to stare at each other.  

My thirst called to me. My eyes locked onto the boy's neck and I inched forward. I was amazed that I was still in such control. On most occasions I would be pacing and behaving very predatorily. Some part of me questioned the power and the lure of Richard's blood, perhaps the desire for it was strong enough to steady me as the frenzy neared. 

Lucky for Richard.

“Viktor. I didn't think you'd up so quickly. I… I was hoping to wash up and see you when you—” He gulped before he could speak another word.  

“I awoke early and with such immense thirst.” I caught the flicker of nervousness from Richard. I reassured him. “It's nothing I can't handle.”  

“How do you know?” When I stopped to consider his question I realized that I had been slowly closing in. There were only a few inches of water separating the two of us now. “How can you tell when it's too much to handle?”  

“I just know.” My eyes released his and my gaze lowered focusing on the shifting image of his lower extremities. The water was calming so the movement was more languid.  

“Viktor?” Richard's tone was serious yet tentative.  

“Ask.” I prompted simply.  

“Well, I…” His voice quivered, and standing there half submerged he shivered for a moment.  

“Come, have a seat here on the step.” I ushered him to lower himself onto the step where the water rose to his earlobes. I knelt in front of him and the water rose to just under my chin. I suddenly wondered vainly how my hair looked soaking wet plastered to my scalp as I'm sure it was. Richard's dark hair was already drying. From beneath the surface my hand rose up and gently combed through the short and thick hair. He leaned into the contact and his eyes shut slowly. I continued to massage his scalp, now with both hands. My fingers caressed and probed the relief of his face and skull. His mouth was slack and his breath was rhythmic and throaty. I saw that his mind was working, his eyes darting beneath his lowered lids. Every couple of breaths would be deeper than the others, or quicker.  

“I think I love you.” The words slipped through his lips in one long sigh.  

“No you don't.” I told him sternly, and quickly enough that our ‘you’s were nearly overlapped. His brows furrowed and his lips frowned. The rest of his face shifted as well when he groaned.  

“I want to be with you!” He cried out. His eyes blinked open wetly and he focused on my face. My fingers ceased and simply cradled his face.  

“You don't know what you're saying, Richard.”  

“I do so.” He pouted. 

The expression made me question his age in that very moment. He grabbed my wrists with his hands and his grip was pleading just as his voice was. 

“I don't want to be anywhere else. I really like how you make me feel. I don't understand it but I know that I like it.”  

“Richard, I'm dangerous.” 

 “So.”

“I'm a natural killer. The fact that I'm not ripping body parts off you and gorging on your blood is simply because of decades of practiced restraint. Your blood is the perfect drug.”

“It's yours to have."  

“You don't understand, Richard.”  

“It's mine to give.”  

“You are foolish and ignorant, boy! I'm trying to save you from a death I’m almost certain to give you.”  

“I am afraid of you, of what you could do to me. I trust you, though. I know you don't want to hurt me. I'll give myself to you.”  

“I do want to hurt you. Every part of my being is designed to do as much or as little damage as I want in order to get what I need from you. I am a vampire. What I need is blood. What I want is your blood.” I dove into his eyes and saw the briefest unbelievable flicker of understanding. He didn't get it, at least not all of it. He was frozen in my gaze. My jaw flexed as my canine teeth lengthened. Richard's eyes locked onto them as I spoke my next words.  

“I'm built to kill, to drink the blood of living humans. I'm built to seduce and to draw you closer, nearer to your end. What do you enjoy about me? Is it my smooth unblemished skin? My strength? Agility? Is it my perfect unbroken beauty? My superior physical presence?” 

At this I pulled the boy's body against mine and held him against my nakedness. I grinded against him as I continued with “or my penetrating, gaze? My liquid, silky voice? How about my smell? Take a sniff of my hair Richard! Even that is exactly right in order for you to want me, to submit to me; to love me.”  

He struggled against being manhandled, but he wasn't committed with any great effort. I let him go and he floundered and splashed loudly. I turned and walked away. “Don't you realize how easily I could have you?”  

“Then why don't you?”  

I turned to face him from the opposite edge of the pool, simply staring at the boy—I should say young man. Even though we look to be the same age, due to my decades of experience I kept seeing him as a boy. ‘Almost nineteen’ seemed incredibly young to me now. 

In the most level tone I uttered the words, “Your father.”  

Shock flashed across his young face and he looked away sharply. I pivoted and pushed myself up on the ledge, and with Richard behind me I ignored my clothing and marched through the exit. I had planned on simply drying off as I walked and finding a decent outfit to wear. Not five feet down the hall I had slowed to halt. I cocked my head to listen. I heard the faintest of whimpers. Then, it was a fist slapping the water. Weeping soon followed, and I stepped back against the wall.  

“Are you still there?” He called out feebly. “Don't leave me alone, please. Not after what you did!” 

I stepped quietly through the open doorway and circled around the pool. Richard saw me, yet tried to ignore me. I knew he saw me and was watching me. He knew I knew, yet he remained stubborn. I continued my circuit and began another lap, passing him without a word. I didn't look at him directly, yet I was fully aware of him and his frail composure. I passed him a second time before he spoke.  

“Why did you kill my dad?” The unabashed tone pinned me in place. I didn't turn to face him, though, by my peripheral vision over my shoulder I saw that he had stood and faced me.  

“I'm a monster, Richard. I rationalized that your father was a monster, and so he was simply killed by a bigger monster.”  

“No! You're not a monster. I'm glad he can't hurt me anymore, but I feel weird. I miss him, but it doesn't feel right.”  

“He was your father, your flesh and blood.”

“You don't know how it was. I was trapped some nights,” Richard began his confession in a stone cold voice. “He even locked me in that basement apartment once. That was the first time he touched me. I was being punished for talking to a stranger outside in the front yard, I think. I forget, but I was nine. I was left down there in the dark for hours, or it felt like days. He finally came back and I was so scared I had forgotten that I was being punished and I ran to him, happy to not be alone. He held me for a long time, then…” The boy blinked away some tears.  

“You don't have to tell me this, not unless you want to.” I softened my voice. I didn't have to try hard to be compassionate to the boy's turmoil.  

“The next time it happened I was eleven, and I had thrown a tantrum. That time he was simply rough with me. I was used to being hit, but when he started to do other things I was so confused, especially after my mum died. He was the only family I had and I was so dependent on him for everything.”  

“Look, I normally wouldn't have dispatched your father so coldly, especially while you were still in the house. I am selective that way, but that night I was so incensed by a strange over-protectiveness that I simply did what I had done. I apologize for putting you through that so harshly, though I hardly regret it.”  

I picked up a candle from one of the sconces and brought with me as I completed my third lap. I remembered the fireplace incident at Clem's and I subtle grin worked its way onto my face. I walked next to one of the pillars, circled around it and stood still facing the boy. My eyes were focused on the flame of the candle. My hands were quivering ever so slightly as my hunger reared its head again. The pool of melted wax surrounding the wick ran free and spilled onto my hand. The hot wax barely stung nothing more. With my other hand I played with the flame weaving my fingers through it playfully. The heat of flame tingled when I placed my thumb and forefinger at either side of the burning wick and slowly brought them together and nearly snuffed the flame. Standing in a darker spot cast by the now uneven lighting I gazed over at Richard. He was watching me intently.  

He and I simply stared at each other for a handful of moments. I've questioned my decisions regarding this boy and even now I have doubts. What gives me pause the most is that I can't seem to figure out what is it that I'm truly doubtful about. Am I questioning my motives? His are certainly in question. Is it our compatibility, or even the nature of our relationship? It could be simply that I have no idea of the future in store for this boy and me. Have I really become so disconnected with my humanity now that I can't see what is staring back at me?  

I closed my eyes. The delicate balance of the nearly extinguished flame was restored as I parted my singed fingers. My hand swayed back and forth idly above the flame. With my acute hearing I could discern that Richard had gasped when the candle relit. He was now moving through the water towards me. He reached the edge and placed his hands on the marble ledge at my  feet. Struggling with his balance he pulled himself out of the water dripping on my legs and feet. Richard grasped my arm as one of his feet slipped away from him. I remained stone still, virtually. Though, his action caused the candle in my hand to slip free. I let it fall, and the sound of it disappearing beneath the surface sounded sad.  

The boy's grip on my arm eased as he found his footing again, and I felt the heat of his body so close to mine. His hand slid up my forearm and passed my shoulder where it continued to travel across my chest. I noted that it stopped above my heart. There was no way he could detect its sluggish rate. His other hand landed softly on my hip and delicately his thumb glided over towards my belly. It caressed the edge of my inverted navel before both hands snaked behind me and I found myself in his embrace. I placed my hands on his shoulders when his lips found my neck just below my right ear.  

“What are you doing?”  

He clung to me in a desperate squeeze and mumbled into my neck, “I dunno.”  

“You're a sweet child, Richard, but…” I started to shrug him off.  

“No!” He took a deep slow breath, adjusting his arms and wrapping them around my torso underneath my arms.  

“You should go.” The hunger was dredging up a multitude of urges within me. I pushed him away, gently yet forceful. He seemed weak at the knees and simply slid down until he was wrapped around my waist. I tried stepping back and he latched onto me so tightly that I would have just dragged him across the floor. I placed both hands at either side of his head and tilted his face up towards mine.  

“Richard,” is all I could say. 

My hunger was churning inside me, and I was quickly becoming aroused—which is a feat unto itself. For me to display such a physical response, I typically would need fresh blood flowing through my veins. Richard released me from his arms and reached up encircled his fingers around the object of his desire. I was so close to the edge of control that all I could do was to shake my head. His warm and wet hands were then replaced by a hot and moist sensation that unleashed a groan from my throat. With the last thread of strength I had I withdrew from him and I continued backwards even after the greedy slurping sound he made and he collapsed onto the floor folding his arms around his head.  

His behavior was bizarre. If it wasn't for the shock registering in my brain I might be beyond the limits of my control. I was terribly hungry. Not just thirsting for blood, but I was truly and unbelievably hungry. I wanted to bite his flesh and have my teeth puncture and penetrate his soft wet skin. I yearned to feel his blood spill into my mouth and run down my chin. I wanted it to be messy! My jaw clenched in anticipation of seizing the tissue of his throat. I was pressed against the unyielding stone wall and Richard was reaching towards me on the floor. My body was trembling with effort. I sank to my knees inches away from the boy's outstretched fingers.  

I snatched his right forearm with both hands and pulled. His body slid into my legs allowing me to raise his wrist into my mouth where my teeth cut deeply through skin and tendon into his artery. I drank generously at first then I remembered myself. I grasped his arm just above the elbow tightly with both hands creating the pressure of a tourniquet and I lapped up the blood from his wound and applied pressure on the punctures with my tongue. After a few minutes the bleeding stopped. I panted and heaved with excitement. I looked down upon Richard's face and dropped his arm. His visage was completely blank; I thought he had passed out. I bent over him and slapped his face lightly. He blinked and coughed. Perhaps it was shock, but he regained his breath and he looked up at me in awe.  

My interest hadn't abated. My eyes travelled down to his chest where his rib cage swelled with each breath and I could detect the vibration of his strong and relentless heart. He reached up and ran his fingers along my side. A deep purring sound rumbled through me like a beast.  

“Richard, do you know what an Incubus is?" The words formed and were given voice to with great effort.  

“Love them.” 

“No. not the band.” I corrected. “It's the type of Vampire that I am.”

He didn't react to that. Richard may not have heard me, or simply not have understood. I stretched and grabbed his ankle. I swung him around so that his legs were towards me. In the beginning he remained lucid, a remarkable feat considering his age and near non-existent experience with sex. I stroked his body with my fingers, my tongue, and I probed his erogenous zones and hit a variety of pressure points. I was conducting a symphony and he was the array of instruments and the body of music created. I grasped his neck with my jaws and thrusted deeper into him paralyzing his body completely as he was unable to cope with releasing the mounting pleasure. My eyes caught his when he body gave up the battle. He went limp and his wide eyes rolled back lazily as thick hot fluid struck me and coated our bodies.  

I released Richard from both my appetites and held him as I was content with my satisfaction. Tendrils of a strong musky scent filled my nose and I enjoyed it. I stared down at the exhausted youth and watched the candle light play on his glistening skin. I stroked his cheek where a droplet of thick liquid shone. I wiped it clean and then tasted my finger. It certainly wasn't my choice of bodily fluids but it was palatable. There was a translucent glob just below his left ear. I gently licked his neck clean. I proceeded to clean the rest of his body much like a cat cleaning a newborn kitten. I was thorough. I also made sure I completely drained him. He awoke while in the throes of another orgasm. 

He was weak, I could tell, but that he was awake was a very good sign. I left him in order to clean myself off. I quickly lathered and rinsed off, all the while the boy's eyes never left me. He watched me; the only motion was the turn of his head and the blinking of his eyes. My eyes only broke from his as the sound of approaching footsteps echoed from somewhere near.  

I pivoted a quarter turn to see Cassa stride into the open archway. She froze and eyed me. Then she glanced over at where Richard's naked form laid, her eyes narrowing just slightly. She addressed me while still looking at Richard.  “I guess that answers that question. You need to wrap this up. Alabaster is waiting to meet with us.” She backed away out of sight. I heard her steps quicken and fade.