Ambrose’s mouth watered as he lowered his mouth to the woman’s neck.
Unlike the others, she didn’t resist.
Not even when his fangs pierced her skin.
She cried, but she let him drink for as long as he wanted.
Ambrose stopped before the blood high could hit, which left him delightfully woozy. “Thank you.” he murmured warmly.
“Don’t stop. Drink me empty. Let me change or let me die.”
He ran the tip of his tongue around his lips and considered her request. Her scent was warmed crème brulee.
It would be so easy to finish her off.
He thought of Barbara.
He thought of Father Landover.
He licked the blood off his teeth. “Some other time.” He released her.
She sank to the ground and cried in full earnest.
Ambrose turned away from her and left her in her misery.
The wooziness passed and passerbys stopped giving him their “Eww! A drunk man.” looks.
I should have held on to her a little longer, drunk a little more, a little deeper. Ambrose licked his lips one more time.
I told Father Landover that I would try to take only what I need.
He stopped in the middle of the street as he remembered his promise to Barbara.
I promised her that I would check on him.
Cars rushed past him blaring their horns, but he was too lost in his own thoughts to really care.
I promised her.
So, how am I supposed to fulfill that promise? Go knock on his door and be all, “Hey, buddy! How about you invite me into your freaking house? Big smile! Lots of love!”
He’ll never invite me in.
I’m not stupid and neither is he.
He resumed walking.
But I promised her.
He saw Barbara’s face.
And he felt her pain.
I will do what I can to keep my promise.
For her sake.
Traffic died down to sporadic cars as he entered the residential side of town.
Ambrose clenched and unclenched his hands.
I could sit by his door and wait for him to come out.
Wow. What a terrific idea. Just what I want to do. Sit on his cold, uncomfortable porch chairs and wait for him to make his grand entrance.
What if she’s there? What if she disregarded my warning? What if she just wanted to see for herself?
She wouldn’t do something that idiotic.
He envisioned Kevin trapping her in a corner.
His mouth turning and contorting into something sharp and savage and cruel.
His thick white canines biting her skin.
Biting Barbara’s skin.
He ran all the way to Kevin’s house.