i.

The next night, I wake up in a great mood, because tonight is Amita night, and I really like her. So I get out of my bed, throwing the blankets to the side, and I start getting ready for her to come and visit. My only regret is that I can't spend too much time with her tonight, seeing as I still got a meeting with Riley later tonight to go watch Elisabeth's house (riveting, I know.) Urg. But I want to.

I want to fuck Amita and have her sleep in my arms a bit. That would do wonders for my mood.

It's while I'm brushing my hair that I realise that someone else but me would feel... different, that night. Because it's the first night where I'm officially taking my next step on my way to becoming a true vampire. Not that I wasn't one before, but, you know. You're not really a vampire if you're not part of a community or something. Or so I've been told, which probably means that it's a load of crap as big as my house.

I just feel slightly more annoyed than usual about having to deal with that team of monkey poops again. And again. And again. I mean, even if they think that I am an idiot, which I am not but I want them to believe, they are still a headache. Except for Sarah. But I'll deal with her in my own time.

But I mean. It could probably be worse. And, hey, I don't know them as much as I could know them. Maybe yesterday was just a bad day for them, who knows. Arthur did tell me that they are promising.

Or maybe he just said that because that's what everyone says, and everyone says that for some bullshit political reason. What do I know?

Urg. And here I go, overthinking everything again. Bad habits, bad habits. Focus on the moment. It's Amita night, tonight. She'll ring the bell at any moment, it's soon time for her to drop by.

Oh, I can't wait. I pet Elenor a bit, but I also check the driveway to my house a few times, rushing to the window every time like a child waiting for Santa Claus to arrive.

___

ii.

It's not a well-known fact, but vampire bite is enjoyable. I mean, it surprised me too when I first learned about it but it's normal to be surprised. After all, giving your blood to the sick is not really enjoyable, why would feeding a vampire be?

Ah, but we're not machines with pumps and needles. We're supernatural creatures, and we niftily evolved to... be like that, I suppose. If I bit you, you'd feel a euphoric pleasure, like an orgasm. But it's powerful. And its effect stays with you for three to four hours, like a drug - a drug you never quite get used to. I get something similar, as a vampire, but from what I understood it's not quite as powerful.

Of course, we, vampires, found a way to weaponise that. Because humans can and will grow addicted to the sensation if they get bit too many times.

Can you see where this is going? Sounds like a pretty convenient trade, right? Not that the human is getting anything but a temporary pleasure but that's still better than destroying your health with some other drug... the only risk is that you might die on the spot if the vampire loses control, which doesn't happen often. Not unless the vampire is either very young or not quite themselves due to intense hunger.

It doesn't happen as often as you might think, I promise.

For the sake of feeding, a vampire is allowed to reveal a bit of their true nature to some humans that they can trust with being loyal to their drug dealer. But not too much. If a human goes around knowing way too much about the Secret, threatening to reveal it to the world, there will be consequences for their vampire. And that's all I'm going to say.

Oh, by the way, those sort of humans (the ones that are attached to the vampire in this way) are considered donors. And it's considered common sense among vampires not to mess with each other's donors, so they are given a wide berth by other vampires.

Of course, it's a bit more complicated than just my simple explanation makes it seem. I, for example, got a different relationship with each of my donors, as well as some favourites. Like Amita. But can you blame me? she's got everything I like in a donor.

Firstly, my favourite blood taste... well, it's hard to describe it, but I sure know it when I taste it. And I often find it among Latinos and Latinas, when they allow me to take a bite. Amita has that taste and she smells like it too - the moment I got a whiff of her, she reeled me in like a shark to a wounded fish.

Secondly, she's smart and pretty. She's studying to become a doctor and she has good grades. She doesn't get in trouble too, so her taste is always free of alcohol or drugs.

Thirdly, she's willing and attracted to me. She was one of those ladies that slipped in my DMs on Instagram. We even dated a bit, or, like, I took her out and we talked. She thinks I'm hot and doesn't mind the low body temperature. And, let me tell you, I might be used to compliments on Instagram, but it trickles a whole other bone in me when the girl knows you're a fucking bloodsucker and is still fanning herself.

And, lastly, she relies on me for more than her fix in vampire bite. I pay for her studies. She tells her parents that she's working to take care of it so they don't worry but, really, it's all me. She owes me and she knows it. She'll never stop coming to me on her own accord, even if she stops liking me because then she'll be lost.

And for when her studies are finished and she won't need me anymore? I'll think about it then. I might have a few ideas, but they will take some time and preparation. I'm not letting go of my Amita, not until she becomes utterly and completely boring to me.

And, considering that vampires never grow bored of the taste of blood, death will probably be the only thing that can pry her of my cold, cold grip.

___

iii.

I was laying on the carpet with Elenor, petting her softly as she slept, when I hear the doorbell.

She's here.

Elenor perks up and I perk up even faster, scrambling to open the door.

Oh boy. She wore that dress. The little strapless one. The man in me really likes that, but the vampire in me likes it even more and I'm standing at the door, breathless, literally struggling not to pull out my fangs and bite her right there in plain sight (and she knows. She smiles at me knowingly when I find myself unable to say a single word.)

"Good evening?" she says. She has a lovely little accent, slightly Spanish.

"Hi," I manage to say.

I let her come in and close the door. She's all mine.

I'm so damn hungry. Feeding on a donor is my favourite way to feed. Something about knowing that they are all mine, coming to me, wanting me... No romp with a one night stand compares. No prize after a long hunt is worth it. Every time I taste them, I want them more the next time. Maybe they are not the only ones that are addicted.

She doesn't make it to the living room. I grab her from behind, catching her, wrapping my arms around her, and before either of us know I got my face buried against her neck.

"You're starving," she tells me. She pets me, and I let her do. I usually wouldn't, not with anyone else but her.

Amita. She smells... amazing. So good. So sweet. Her neck is soft and squishy. Her thigh is soft and squishy too when I grab it and heave it, so she's hiked up against my chest. She gasps, and that short skirt of hers (I didn't even notice that it was that short or that the dress was one of those contemporary stretchy dresses) slide up her body until it's at the level of her midriff.

"Oh God," she says.

I grunt. I'm just stalling it at this point, my fangs are all stretched out, they are burning me, her heartbeat is right there. She even has her head tilted to the side. But I want that small moment of control, I want to make sure that I the one that decides, I want to push the vampire side of me until it wields its control. Completely.

I know that it's pointless to try. That it will always be there. But I try anyway.

It's not my break of control that interrupts that moment, it's a sound. The sound of naked footsteps that hit the wooden floor of the hallway, running away. I freeze. And listen.

I'm only pleased when I heard the door close.

"What was that?" Amita asks me, noticing that I stopped whatever I was about to do. She turns her head to try and look at my face.

"Nothing," I say. And it really is nothing, to her. That is not something that concerns her. "Let's move to my room."
___

iv.

One of the first things I did when I had enough money for it was to buy myself a ridiculously large mattress. And then, as my career as an Instagram model really took off, I got myself a good frame to go with it. I like having a big bed. I'm a large man that likes to stretch out and I also like inviting all sorts of people to it.

There are several pillows on my bed, but only one black pillow. It stands out a bit but people don't think too hard about it, usually.

Until they know I'm a vampire about to drink their blood. Until I grab the pillow and place their head right on top of it.

Amita knows the black pillow well. Her dress matches it, as well, that silly dress that rolled so high up that I now know that her lace panties are also black. The way she looks at me, the way she spreads her legs, confuse me for a second. The man wants her pussy, the vampire her neck, and I almost compromise by biting her thigh. But I go for the neck in the end.

My fangs sink in her. She makes that little tensed gasp all against my ear and it tickles me, and that is the last thing I'm vaguely aware of before the feeling of her blood beading at the base of my fangs overtake everything.

She becomes a body.

It becomes a body that I hold tighter, a little stronger, but not too strong, just enough so that it cannot escape. It becomes a pulse, and that pulse enters my head in repeat through its bloodstream. And I become ravenous for life, the life that I do not have. My empty chest aches. I am dead. I am dead, and it so alive.

I drink.

The blood of the Christ is wine, rich and red, infinitely flavourful with each sip. It is given to the living willingly, as the price of their existence. And the dead must tear it away from them. I heard that... somewhere. Those words come to me as I take her, it, as she becomes mine. Mine, for tonight, through the sharing of her very essence. Mine, o nameless body that I adore.

To tear yourself from that stream of life is delicious torture. It is a little death, it is the admittance that I am no longer one of the living, the return to brutal stillness. But I know, from the years of practice, that this will not kill me, that I am already dead. So I pull away and let go, like an acrobat launching himself in the emptiness when there is no nest.

The landing is brutal. The blood I took sears its mark on me, inside of me, and I gasp for air. The delight I feel... nothing can compare to it. It is the delight of death, and its height is equal to how much I dared taking. In that very brief second, I know if I killed or did not kill.

She's alive.

I know it before I even open my eyes to check. I don't need to. I become aware of her hands on my back, gripping the shirt I didn't even take off. She's still bleeding from her neck wound, the smell explosive and potent to my heightened senses. But I will not bite her again.

I lick the wound, closing it supernaturally. All that is left is a bruise shaped like a hickey.

___

v.

I let the blood (and the feeling of drinking) settle for a little while. It feels nice. Not for long, though, because I'm laying over a half-naked pretty woman that I know is all relaxed and willing. And she smells nice. And, well, the vampire's sated, but the man isn't, and I'm sort of getting hard in my pants.

She feels it and moves her leg to rub against me. I give her a little grunt. She giggles and rubs me some more.

"You're going to get it," I tell her, in a threateningly sexy tone (at least I hope that's how she takes it.)

She giggles again. I love it when she giggles in bed, it gives me the impression I'm a sex god. Which I'm not, mind you, but I can get away with it because I have the power of nibbles on my side.

I still reach for a condom. Hey, I might be dead! Immune to it all! But viruses and nasty shit stay on me anyway so you're never too careful. (I'm not scared of kids, though. Can't have those. Not anymore.)

"You really need that?" she asks. "I want you whole."

Oh, Amita. I know I'm not good for you. You really shouldn't tempt me like that. Unless you're just saying that to turn me on? Because you know it's working.

I growl at her. Not some lame human dude growl, some fancy vampire growl, The little lady came here for some fun and I like pretending as if I'm going to turn her into a roadkill. Match made in Heaven. Or Hell?

To long, didn't read: she stayed for the vampire sex.

I get my pants and her panties out of the way. Push her legs all up against her chest. (She looks so cute with her boobs all squished, a little flustered. I love it.) And, once I'm all ready, I ram into her. She feels amazing and yet I dare be a little surprised every time. You know it already: tight, wet pussy clenching, little gasps and pants and moans, her grasping at the sheets, the whole nine yards. She's tiny, especially when she's trapped in my shadow.

What else is there to say? It's back and forth, back and forth, and I don't know if everything I feel with my dick is your damn business. All you need to know is that we both had a splendid time, and she came, and then I came.

Of course, I don't lay on her. I'm heavy. So I lay next to her, on the bed, and she crawls up to me with a smile on her face. And I hold her tight. Mind you, if she was a vampire like me I wouldn't want this. But I'm gross. I'm sated like a bloated tick yet I still want to feel her heartbeat, like a dragon counting the coins of his hoard.

Badum. Badum.

___

vi.

Do I love Amita?

In a romantic sense, no. No, I do not love her like that. I am not sure that I can, at all, with anyone. When I listen to how others describe those feelings, I never felt anything like that.

But she is mine. That's nothing that is up for debate. I do not want her to be running around, seeing boys. Not that she wants to, she doesn't have anyone outside of me, she has not been raised like that. She got enough already, and she has her studies. If she wanted to leave, I'd threaten her with withdrawing my bite. Not that I would really do it but she's an addict, after all.

As for sharing her with another vampire... I will not let that happen. Ever. Her blood is mine.

I'm not sure she knows all that - beyond the no seeing boys, that is, because of course I discussed that with her. I don't think she realises the full extent of my feelings for her, how I view her as a possession. Because I do. That's the simplest way of explaining it.

Or maybe she does, and knowing that I own her excites her. I suspect she's a bit kinkier than what she dares to explore with me but I don't mind waiting.

There was a time where I would have loved to be capable of falling in love. If there ever was one, that died with my humanity a long time ago.

At least I still got lust. The lust of a vampire, so powerful it destroys, is all I'll need to go on alone.

___

vii.

Somewhere in the house, the alarm of my phone goes off. It's a bunch of cat meows arranged in a song. Did you expect anything else?

Alarm, mind you. Not phone call. I got to think of leaving, don't have to rush off to grab it and answer it. Which makes it so much more difficult to leave her behind. Jesus Christ...

And then I'll be stuck with Riley. Exchange?? Amita??? For Riley???? Creepy fuckface. Why can't the world of the night go away and leave me alone? How about that? I can handle myself. I don't need them. They don't even really need me, according to them.

Ah, fuck it. I really got to go, though.

I slowly pry myself away from her arms. Amita grunts, of course, and tries to hold on to me. So I pry off her fingers.

"Don't go back too late," I say, laying a kiss on her cheek.

"I won't."

I take one last whiff of her, hoping it would somehow give me strength. It doesn't. I leave her there and leave to get ready.