2.

A single thought drove me outside ... feeding off that precious musician ... that baglama player ... desire is a tempting thing. Her warm blood called me like a siren song. I needed that warmth; my palate craved the thick pulsing drink that would quiet the hunger that now ripped my accursed soul.

An empty stage stood before me. Where could she have gone? No traces of her remained on the small stage, nothing except the crooked stool at the center. The establishment itself was empty. Faint noises echoed in the back of the room, but the perfume of jasmines no longer dwelled in the air.

The second my accursed instinct registered her absence; a sudden craving rose from the depths of my polluted soul ... the hunter in me was pleased.

I followed the trail through deserted alleys, followed that faint scent that lured me like a wolf to its prey. Finding her had been truly easy. Within minutes I had caught up with her a few miles away from the coffee shop as she walked home. I kept track of her movements for a while until my ravenous nature forced me to reveal my presence.

A twig cracked beneath my foot.

The woman stopped. She held onto the bag she carried as if somehow that could have protected her from my imminent attack.

'Do not be frightened,' I whispered, moving closer.

She slowly turned. When her gaze landed on me, I knew she recognized me as the man who had admired her talent from afar. It was the strangest thing ... no matter how much I tried, my preternatural skills failed to read her thoughts.

'Shouldn't I be afraid ... vampire?' she asked in flawless English. The blood quickened in her veins; every heartbeat echoed in my ears. And in that moment, I wanted her even more.

'I would never hurt you.' I lied ... lied through my sharp and lethal teeth. 'I admire your voice, your musical skill ... you are safe with me.'

Drawing each second closer, I encircled her, ready to attack. These minutes were what I most cherished of the hunt, the moment before the fight and the struggle began. Would she scream when my sharp fangs pierced her skin? Would the bite to her carotid artery be as obscene an act as I imagined?

Only one way to find out.

I made the leap and landed behind her, pulled her hair aside and jabbed my fangs into her precious neck. And as I took that first dark drink, she moaned. The bag fell from her hands, her knees buckled and both of us landed on the floor, locked in an unnatural embrace that turned me into a killer and her into the perfect victim.

A blaze of images poured before my mind's eye as I swallowed that first dark drink: winter in the mountains, a steep road through a snow-covered field that led to a castle. I knew that place quite well, it had haunted every waking hour of my life as a vampire.

Calista's castle.

But why would she know a thing about that place? Not unless ... 'Witch!' I moan, parting from her as if she were a roaring flame in the midst of my beloved darkness. Still clouded by the sensual touch of her magical blood as it slipped down my throat, I leaned against the wall. 'You tricked me!'

Her flaming green eyes lit with an incandescent gleam, and her tanned skin glowed in slow waves too mesmerizing a sight to avoid.

'What do you want from me?' I growled, vexed to have been foolish enough to fall in her game.

By drinking the blood of a witch, I had submitted myself to her thrall ... a mistake that could cost me my life. The witch got on her feet, and stealthy as a wildcat, she moved towards me. With the same sensual cadence, she leaned before me until our eyes met. The witch slipped her hand into her bag and pulled out a small dagger. If not by the strange symbols carved into its silver handle, it would have passed as an ordinary weapon.

'Take this dagger, Henry Byron ...' she whispered in my ear as I remained petrified under her spell. 'Calista is in danger. Do not hesitate to use it when the time comes.'

Her delicate figure disappeared amidst the shadows as I lay there on a heap of Turkish soil, holding a witch's dagger in my hand.

* * *

I MET CALISTA CENTURIES AGO ON the road to Catalonia. It had been the first time I had ventured to the continent after my awakening. Inexperience and excitement entwined in the depths of my voracious soul. My hunger for the world knew no boundaries. I longed to see new lands ... I never thought my travels would lead me to another vampire's territory.

The castle's old towers loomed in the distance.

'Easy boy ...' I whispered, smoothing my hand on my stallion's neck. The sight of that place unsettled him too.

Perhaps this was a mistake. Perhaps I should have traveled to Germany, straight into the dragon's lair where Prince Lucio resides or had been known to reside at certain times, times he needed not to be in Italy or Spain. But the most pressing feeling led me towards her, towards Calista. Was this part of the witch's spell? Or was this an act of my own volition? Whatever the reason, I was here. And my mind whirred incessantly with the six words I would speak the minute I lay eyes on her again:

I'm sorry. Please, don't kill me.