"You would be better off if you accepted your fate," he told her. "Your screaming does nothing but cause trouble."
He looked into her eyes, deep pools of chocolate brown that reflected the moonlight. Once again, he found himself thinking of the blood that ran through her veins. Its sweet aroma nearly overpowered him. If he had known such blood existed, he would have sought it out decades ago. He would have dedicated his very existence to finding it and consuming it.
"I will not shut up, asshole." She screamed again and struggled to get free, momentarily breaking his concentration. "Help! Someone help me!"
Though it was late at night and the gas station was far from any activity, he didn't want to take a chance that her screaming would attract attention. He quickly closed his hands around her neck, blocking the flow of precious blood to her brain. She struggled, but the man was too strong. His hands were as hard as marble, his muscles strengthened by his condition, his will driven by the uncontrollable craving.
The girl ceased her struggles, choking one last time before she lost consciousness. He laid her limp body across the truck's bench seat and slid her in the rest of the way. Her long hair spilled across her face, its dark color contrasting with her white skin.
She was, he acknowledged, quite beautiful. Though ordinary looking by most standards, she had a face that he found interesting. There was no better word for it. Her full cheekbones contrasted with the sharpness of her narrow chin. She wore no makeup, but her lips shone a shade of pink that caused them to appear fuller than they were against her white skin. And her eyes, those deep brown eyes. They enraptured him.
He moved his focus from her face to her neck, so inviting. He watched her blood pulse through the arteries, a steady rhythm, causing her skin to rise and fall. It was mesmerizing.
The man knew he must move on. He began to fish through her pockets for the keys to the truck and her cell phone. He felt the warmth of her body through the fabric and paused involuntarily, one hand in her pocket and the other on the steering wheel. He felt her blood pumping through her hip, the iliac artery one of the human body's largest. He closed his eyes, imagining his mouth on her naked body, his teeth piercing the nearly translucent skin at the V where her leg met her lower abdomen. He could almost feel the hot blood run across his tongue, down his throat, pulsing now against his fingers as he slid them further into the girl's pocket. He pictured the scene so vividly it was almost real.
His fingers brushed against the keys, breaking his train of thought. He blinked and sucked in a breath, a habit that would always be hard-wired into his brain, no matter how unnecessary it had become. He took the keys from her pocket and placed them in his own. He found her phone in her rear pocket, and he took that too.
Knowing from experience that the girl would be out for some time, he returned to the store to retrieve the corpse he had left behind. He didn't want to leave evidence of his crimes, though it wasn't the police he was worried about.
He wiped the counter clean, paying particular attention to any spots he might have touched, including where the camera had been. He retrieved the broken pieces of the clerk's cell phone from the floor and placed them in the pockets of his coat. He removed the cash from the register and lit a cigarette. That should help cover the smell of blood. He didn't expect trouble, but he knew it never hurt to be careful.
The clerk, Mike, lay where he'd been left, slumped against the wall in a corner. Though the man had drained the boy, a trickle of blood ran from the holes he'd left behind. The blood had darkened, pooling in the crook of the boy's neck, where his head was bent at an awkward angle.
The man wiped the blood with his finger, again sucking it dry. He stubbed out his cigarette, again placing the butt in his pocket. He picked up the clerk's body, careful to avoid dripping more blood on the floor. To the authorities - or anyone else who came to look - it would appear that Mike the clerk had simply vanished, taking the laptop with him. That there might be no logical explanation for such a disappearance didn't matter.
He placed the corpse into the bed of the girl's pickup and scanned the area. No one was around. That was good. He would drive the truck into the woods and dispose of the body there. He'd decide what to do with the girl later.
The driver's side door squeaked so loudly when he opened it that it resembled a moan, as if the truck knew what it was being used for and issued a meek protest.
When he looked inside, the girl was gone.
"Fuck."
He ran a hand through his hair and breathed out heavily, scanning the area again. He sensed no movement, detected no thoughts.
Trying to think like a human, he wondered which way she'd travel. Certainly, she was on foot. Her truck was still here, and she had no phone. Dense forest surrounded the gas station on both sides and its rear. She would not go in there at night, no matter how afraid, no matter how desperate. He knew that much about human teenage girls.
Which left two directions, both of them along the roadway he'd walked in on.
He lifted his head high, forced his nostrils open, and breathed in deeply.
There it was. That smell. The sweet aroma of the girl. It was weak, but he knew it was there. She had gone in the direction from which he'd come.
He started the truck, intending to chase her down, but quickly pulled it around the side of the building when he sensed someone coming. He saw headlights. A small European sports car, perhaps a Volvo, pulled into the lot. In addition to the driver, another teenage girl, there appeared to be two more people in the car. A couple, it seemed. All friends of Mike the clerk, he assumed.
The man had to make a decision: Kill everyone in the car immediately and leave town, or get out of there before they saw him. He scanned their thoughts to be sure they hadn't seen him.
From the driver: "It's so weird that Mike hasn't answered my texts. The stupid jerk probably forgot his phone again."
From the front passenger, another girl: "Gah. Jessica is such a slut. Dragging me and Eric out here to see Mike again? I am so sick of it."
And the rear passenger, a boy: "I hope Mike will sell us beer this time. Little fucker never lets us."
Satisfied that their thoughts were those of typical teenagers, the man in the long black coat drove into the roadway. An oncoming car forced him to turn away from the direction the girl had gone. He didn't want to chance anyone seeing him.
He turned right, toward the small town's business district. In the distance, flashing blue and red lights. The teenagers must have already gone into the store and discovered that their friend was missing. They'd dialed 911 that quickly.
The man eased his foot onto the gas pedal, pressing it further down, slowly building up speed. There was no need to rush. No one would be looking for him.
Before the police car got too close, he made a left turn, and another left. At this late hour, the small town was nearly deserted. Only the gas station by the highway was open. It had begun to drizzle, and the streets were covered in a fine mist. It built up on the truck's windshield, so he turned the wipers on. They smeared the window.
He pulled the pickup into a deserted strip mall parking lot, stopped and got out. He pulled a dirty towel from the floorboard and wiped the window down. He knew that the girl who'd escaped would report what had happened soon, if she hadn't already. He would have to abandon the truck after he disposed of the clerk's body.
As soon as he searched the glove box. He tossed much of what he found onto the floor: photographs, CDs, an overdue homework assignment. Soon, he found the registration receipt and scanned it quickly.
"Isabella Swan," he said, his smile growing. "Such a beautiful name."
He put the truck into gear and headed for the woods.
-30-
A/N Thanks so much for the response to chapter one. I'm thrilled that people like it. I hope to update every week or two, though the holidays may slow me down. And don't worry. I'm not going to abandon this midway through. I've got much of it mapped out in my head already. All I have to do is write it down. ;)
A major shout-out to my wife and beta, MazzyStarla, a damn good editor and a fine writer herself. Do yourself a favor and go read her stuff. It's much sweeter than mine.
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