The Temptress- chapter 3

Chapter 3 (Special Circumstances)

I stand feet apart and arms outstretched while the guard checks for any weapons hidden underneath my form fitting leather outfit. The purse sits heavily on my shoulder and for the moment he doesn’t bother to check it.

         The guy is in serious need for some heated rays. It’s one of the many signs of malnourishment that slowly decays their new form. It’s a myth that vampires burn to ash in daylight. It’s actually really difficult to kill a vampire. You would need extensive training in decapitation and the right tools for the job. A wooden stake to the heart won’t do the trick. If anything, when they wake up from the botched attempt they’ll be more pissed off than before.

         If you’re not careful enough your neck would be snapped in two before you get the chance to defend yourself. That’s how dangerous killing one of them is. Especially if it’s a starved newly turned vamp. Like the guard who’s patting me down for example. Now, I wouldn’t normally turn my back on him so openly. This just so happens to be one of those special circumstances.

         Little Tony must have neglected to feed the newbie low-ling some of his own blood. An important ‘missing ingredient’ that would effectively make the transformation to vampire-hood complete. The low-ling won't die without it, of course. It’s his senses that aren't as strong as a maturely grown vampire. So, if need be, I can easily pin him down. Even if he does give me the creeps I don't resort to that type of violence. Yet.

         In order for someone to become sirened they need permission from a willing vampire. This guy was awake and fully conscious when he accepted the vampires ‘gift’.

“Why would you choose to work for a sadistic vampire like Little Tony?” I ask genuinely curious.

He sneers at me. “You have some nerve coming here and speaking ill of my master.” He stops patting my sides and brings his ugly face dangerously close to mine.

         I twist my head sideways when he leans in. His offensive breathe hits me in cold waves. “A painless death would be merciful.” He contemplates.   

I roll my eyes when a hand lingers on my ass for longer than necessary.

His lips curve in a twisted smile. “Or better yet I should take care of you myself.” he suggests.

         He finishes patting down my legs. When he doesn’t find anything he walks around in a half circle and stops right in front of me. His freaky yellow eyes roam down to the large vein bulging on my chest.

         I suppress a disgusted shiver as a strip of his suggestive aura lingers and mixes dangerously close to my own. Being a disposable blood bag is currently not on my list of ‘to do’ anytime soon.
I sigh loudly. I so don’t have time for this.

“Enough!” a familiar voice booms.