Thirst
Page 12

 Jacquelyn Frank

  • Background:
  • Text Font:
  • Text Size:
  • Line Height:
  • Line Break Height:
  • Frame:
He pressed his mouth to her lips, the kiss warm and comforting to her. Then he was gone and she was left to drift off into a dreamy sleep.
 
 
Chapter 4

Rafe left Renee’s and walked back toward his SUV. It was dark and cold and snowing like crazy, but he felt none of it. His body was humming, alive with the satiation he felt in the wake of feeding off Renee. From the moment he had met her he had known she would be compatible with him. He had only needed to look at her to see the overwhelming life force that emanated from her. She was very present in her life. Very aware of the world around her and her place within it. It was quite compelling. Plus, she led a clean, healthy lifestyle, very aware of what she put into her body. It all made the perfect storm for the perfect meal. Oh, the food they had eaten had been passable, but the company she had provided was infinitely more captivating. She was engaging and witty, confident and gorgeous. Still, it wasn’t like him to seduce his food.
He always chose women as his food source; although he was perfectly capable of overpowering men too, using hypno to overcome their strength. It was just that he preferred female energy. He was a heterosexual male and taking a being’s energy was like a sexual high.
He often asked his targets out to eat, knowing they would need the calories to help them recover from his using them as a meal, but he did not usually kiss them. Renee was simply hard to resist. Her kiss had wiped out all memory of any that may have come before her. Her mouth had been so lush, her kiss so invigorating and energizing even before he had begun to feed.
It had been a while since he had felt this way. Renee tugged at something inside of him.
And she’d been so delicious. She had an abundance of energy that had seeped inside of him, revitalizing his starving tissues and blood. Sure, he could eat food, but it gave him little sustenance. It was life energy that fed him and Renee had it in spades. It was like that with some people. They had an excess of what he needed. It was a rare find though, and he wouldn’t be willing to give it up so quickly.
But she could only tolerate being drained so often. As it was she would sleep for a very long time. Perhaps for days. It all depended on the person and how quickly they regenerated their energy. She had just eaten, so that would help. Burning calories was usually the best way to revitalize oneself after a drain.
As the snow fell around him, the night was quiet. Everyone had hurried inside to wait out the storm so there was almost no one on the street. His steps squeaked in the freshly fallen snow.
No. Not just his steps.
He halted and listened, his keen hearing sorting through the sounds of the night and seeking deeper. He reached out with preternatural senses to feel the energy of everything around him. He had been so famished before Renee that he would not have been able to do this a half hour ago. It had been a dangerous state for him to be in. He’d had ulterior motives for following Renee and he had not intended to feed from her initially. But he was glad that he had. Now he was flush with ability and strength and he was once more able to protect himself. He had been very lucky to have not been caught out before this.
“I can feel you out there,” he said aloud to the night. “I can feel your heart beating and the sourness of the energy you steal.”
“Just as you stole from that girl.” A voice crept out of the alley toward him. “We are not so different.”
Damn it. He had been watched. That never would have happened if he’d been at full power. He would have sensed the thing following him long before this.
“That girl is pure. You don’t care where you get your energy from. You hunt around in the gutter for it,” he said. He threw in an intonation of intimidation to boot. It couldn’t hurt, although depending on his age the sycophant he was dealing with might or might not be affected by it. It also depended on when the sycophant had last fed.
Rafe stepped into the alleyway. The streets were empty, but it was best for all involved if this took place in the dark, away from eager eyes.
“Come. Show yourself, sycophant,” he invited the base creature. Rafe then went for the long knife strapped to his ankle, crouching down low and ready for the attack. Sycophants were blitz attackers. They tried to overwhelm you by rushing at you with force. This sycophant proved to be no different.
A wall of pure energy crashed into Rafe so hard that, had he been standing straight it would have bowled him over. But by being prepared for it he managed to keep his feet. The energy of the attack crackled and snapped all around him, fingers of visible electricity jumping along the edges of the trash that cluttered the alleyway.
Rafe was much more conservative. He wasn’t going to blow his entire store of energy in one reckless attack. He would be more thoughtful, more methodical. He started off by shaking his head to clear it of the energy that blinded him then searching the alleyway for the physical form of the sycophant.
But this sycophant was more powerful than expected. Even after his huge expenditure of energy against Rafe, he was still able to remain in an energy state, making it impossible for Rafe to use a physical blow against him. Rafe swore softly. The sycophant was going to force him to use power he would rather not waste. Still, he couldn’t just sit there and let the phant take potshots at him all night.
Rafe transferred the knife to his off hand, gripping hold of it tightly as he opened his right hand and focused on gathering up a ball of electrical energy within it. He was quicker at it than most, and it was extremely powerful. He tracked the alley for the phant, looking for the telltale warble of the air that gave it away, and then let loose with the ball of energy. It struck like a bull’s-eye and the phant screamed as the energy Rafe had thrown crackled and snapped through him. The attack worked ten times better than Rafe had hoped for or expected. The phant became solid and Rafe leaped onto its back as it tried to run away.
“Oh no. You started this, you little lowlife,” Rafe hissed in his ear. “You’re sticking around so I can finish it.”
“Mercy!” the phant squawked when Rafe put his blade to his throat and pressed hard enough to cut a thin line along the flesh covering the delicate arteries and veins beneath.
“Give me one good reason why I should show you mercy,” Rafe ground out as he glared down into the phant’s hollow, watery eyes. The phant was pale and thin, its sallow skin having a jaundiced tinge. It had knobby joints and lackluster, dirty brown hair. Its looks came strictly from its diet. It fed indiscriminately, on both the healthy and the sick. The phant didn’t care how toxic its mark was, it only cared for what it could get. Energy.