Logan stood by his window watching for his new neighbor. Looking at the Patek Caliber 89 on his wrist he saw it was three fifteen. For the past week she had always taken the dogs for their run at three. Until today he could have set his watch by her.
He didn't know the dog’s names; he called the little tan one Bossy and the big Rottweiler mix Pushover. Bossy ordered Push-Over around, snapped at his face, and stole his toys.
The dogs were rowdy and fun to watch. Push-Over was a big dog - too much dog for his tiny neighbor. A few days before Bossy had stolen the Frisbee from Push-Over starting a wild game of come-and-get-it-if you can. They ran in circles and zigzags straight at his neighbor who wasn't fast enough and all three of them landed in the surf.
When she stood up her skimpy shorts and mid-rift top clung to her in indecent ways. He now knew two things about his pretty neighbor; she didn't wear a bra and her choice of undergarment was a thong.
Logan smiled as the dogs raced out of the house onto the beach. Bossy was yipping and trying to grab the baseball out of push-over's mouth.
She followed. Her long golden hair pulled into a ponytail, her face clean of make-up. The skimpy shorts she favored hidden under a man's large T-shirt that had a Harvard crest on it.
What was this?
In the week he had lived next to this lovely human he had never sensed a man.
Logan opened his mind. To his relief the only male he could sense was Push-Over, the large Rottweiler mix.
His neighbor quickly turned and, shading her eyes, scanned the windows of his house until she saw him. Giving him a brilliant toothy smile she waved.
Logan was so startled he almost stepped back from the window; instead he waved back.
How had she sensed him? Maybe she hadn't. Although that seemed impossible since she had turned and looked at him the very moment he had opened his mind and the windows were tinted a dark shade that blocked ultra violet light.
Turning from the window Logan finished his cup of warm blood. His day was just beginning and he didn't have time to obsess with a human – no matter how delectable she might be.
Besides, it was the dogs he liked to watch.
So he told himself.
He went to his studio and worked on his new song until sundown; he could go out in the sun if he had to, however, it reduced his powers and made him vulnerable; Logan preferred the night.
At sunset Logan went to his garage and chose the Bugatti for the night. He loved the toys of the twenty-first century – cars were his favorite. Fast, sexy cars. He had six; the Bugatti Veyron was his latest addition.
The setting sun hurt his eyes behind his Oakley C Six sunglasses. It was just a thin strip of pink and gold off to his right so he pushed the pedal down and soon left it behind as he drove the Pacific Coast Highway from Malibu to Los Angeles.
Logan had carefully cultivated his rock and roll career so he was now nothing more than an underground band with a cult following. His band was mostly vampire with a few humans sprinkled in. The vampires were happy with the following the band had and the humans were happy becoming known in the rock world. It was a win-win situation for everyone.
