Vampire at 14 Penrose Lane (re-write)

6. The Unexpected Letter

CHAPTER 6

Nikolai

Her blood tastes sweet.

Like sugar cookies dipped in chocolate.

But hers is richer.

Dark.

Delicious.

Potent.

Intoxicating me.

And with every drink of her blood, it invigorates my veins. With every gulp, I become stronger.

For an unexpected second, I wasn't sure if I'd be able to stop. But I did. I always do.

I thought I will never taste something so rich again. So heady. Until now. It was difficult to hold back... after so long — sixty-two years, in fact.

Half-way strolling to the end of the lane, she finally closes her door and I stop and turn... watching. I observed her for two weeks as she returned home. Every night past 10pm she gets off the bus and scurries to her home, clutching her bag tightly against her. Her Frantic eyes darting about as if the hounds of hell were after her.

But maybe they were. Blood sucking pests. After all, her blood was far from ordinary.

Isla...

She's an island. Floating in the sea among vampires and humans.

At least that's what I thought when I spotted her weaving through the crowd at the mixer tonight.

To any vampire, she was your typical human. Fragile and afraid, I could break her with a grasp of my fingers or drink her blood up and she'll be dead. But that was far from what I will ever do to her.

But Isla wasn't an average mortal to me.

I like her light freckles on her upper cheeks. Four spotted her left and three dotted her right. Her long, dark hair has a light curl to it that falls around her heart-shaped face and twirls down her back. Even in her oversized skirts, I can make out the slender frame of her body. The curves of her hips. The shape of her breasts beneath her airy shirt. Her lips are pink and pouty. I watched as she sucked her bottom lip out of nervousness.

And when she gets nervous or heated...

Her blood bristles. I can smell her blood warming, simmering when she blushes. The blood rushing up to her cheeks. It takes my breath away. Her pulse throbs on her left neck, making me struggle to keep my fangs at bay. Yet, all I think about is the insatiable urge for my teeth to sink into her flesh below her left ear. Her soft buttery skin distracting me. But hurting her, biting her without consent, I will never do.

But it was her eyes that captured me the most.

Just like her hair, her eyes are melted chocolate, holding a glimpse of my past that knocked the wind out of me, if I had any.

From the moment I saw her, I knew she was the one.

From the moment I approached her. My hope was confirmed.

Her dark brown eyes were frightened. I could smell her fear. And so she should fear. I am a vampire, a hungry one. But I was glad she took a chance, or else I would've found it troublesome to meet her.

I glide down the dark street filled with moving shadows I am adapted to. Since I move along with them living only by night. That was every vampire's curse. For it's a curse to be the living dead.

My gaze pierces through the obsidian night, noticing families through their windows. The curtains are drawn, but I can still see them. Feeling their pulse beat beneath their flesh. Children sleeping soundly. Oblivious to the danger that surrounds them while their parents watch late night television. A few couples even in bed having sex.

I can hear them all if I wish. But I tune them all out. It seemed like a faraway memory when I was still part of the living.

Vampires don't breathe. We don't blink. Our hearts don't beat. At times, I feel full of life, but I know it's the curse. The blood keeps us alive. And her blood. Isla's blood is something else. I've tasted it before, but hers is different. Special.

Approaching the picket fence gate, I enter the secluded garden, hidden from the prying eyes of human passersby. My house looms before me with ivy tendrils crawling up the weathered wooden planked walls like nature's attempt to reclaim what was once hers.

Pushing open the heavy oak door, I enter my world veiled in a perpetual twilight. I step on something with a light crunch. Dropping my gaze to the wooden floor, I spot a letter. Instantly, I become suspicious of receiving mail. No one knows I moved here, only one person knows where I stay.

But a tick bites at me when I see the crest emblazoned on the front. The emblem is intricate with regal stars and intertwined vines, hinting at noble descent. The tick never leaves my jaw as I pick it up and rip it open. My eyes scan the words written in two sentences. Huffing soundlessly, I roll my eyes.

Shaking my head, I crumple the letter in my fist and toss it onto the side table as I walk across the floor with a creak. The house is old and everything squeaks, even the little mouse in the corner I can hear behind the wall. The spacious foyer is decorated with antique furnishings, their rich mahogany gleaming in the dim light. Tapestries lines the walls with a grand staircase spiraling upwards, leading to the upper floor that hosts my bedroom with four others.

I saunter up the stairs to my bedroom. Taking in the air that holds a faint scent of aged wood and a trace of incense, a subtle reminder of centuries I spent collecting rare artifacts from around the world.

I silently grunt, not wanting to think of how I collected them. It was all filled with torture, suffering, and cruelty — each one by my hand. My eyes glaze over the silver tipped dagger that's a century old. Centuries of afflicted memories, I want to leave behind me. They're all ghosts. Never to be erected again.

My eyes flit from the window of the top floor and I zero in on the house down the street. Isla's door has a shade of butter with a number 3 imprinted in dark green. The woman that lives inside is shy. She's scared. I sensed it all night. It is only in her home she relaxes, and oddly, when I drink her blood.

It pleases me as a small smile creeps up my lips.

Isla's beautiful, yet she doesn't know it. She's fragile and I can't help vulnerable, too. My protective instincts kicking in.

The vampire knew better than to take her blood the other night. To hurt Isla in any way. I would crush him if he'd attempted. Snap his neck and turn him into foul dust! Destroying was what I was good at. I suspect he's from one of the covens close to the west. They're the only ones that hunt and seek blood in these parts with no control. He saw me through these curtains. Sensed me. From across the street. He knew who I was.

That means he knows what I am and what I do... well, did.

That isn't a good thing.

Something vibrates. I glance at my iPhone on the bed. The only technology in this house. I raise a brow and walk over to it. Reaching for my phone, another message buzzes through. I open the messages and my left jaw clenches.

Got the letter, Nikolai?

I sigh, debating if I should reply, and curse the day I'd mentioned where I live now.

Yes. I press send.

A minute later, my phone vibrates again.

Wow. I'm surprised you replied. Progress. Maybe Crest Haven is rubbing you on the right side, after all. An icy wave flow through me as I read the message. No one must ever find out about Isla. I continue to read the message. Is the letter good or bad news? Personally, I think it's good? You're too lonely down there, even for a loner like you.

It's all bad news. And you, of all people, know I like my privacy. I type out another message. Whatever you do, don't come here.

A minute went by and then another four. I abandoned my phone; the message was fucking clear and should be received with no threat. But thirty seconds later, my phone beeped with a message that left me fuming.

I'll see you soon.