Servant of the Undead

"I'll be watching."

Holy fuck, Hayden was starting to remember what it felt like to be inside Mattie. Driving into her tight core, pounding until he couldn't think straight.

Hayden glanced at the apartment. Rachelle was not peering out the window, watching for him. Thank God. He shifted back. Most girls would probably get pretty pissed at a guy who took a video of himself grinding his dick into her, but this girl seemed anything but pissed. Hayden found himself watching the flicker of her stubby black fingernails as she inched up the hem of her skirt. He knew she wasn't wearing panties. Five inches was all it would take and her bare pussy—

He took a sharp step forward, ready to shove her out of the way if necessary. She grabbed his arm and jerked him close enough for her nipples to brush against him.

"My girlfriend is waiting for me," he said, pointing to the third story of the brownstone.

Mattie tossed back her mass of hair, exposing a small black device tucked into her ear. "I know. 'Don't make me wait.' Isn't that what she said?" A cruel smile tugged on the corner of her full mouth as she took in his expression. "You don't understand yet, do you? Let me explain. You belong to me now. Until I'm done with you, that is." She forced one of her legs between his thighs and lifted until her knee pressed into his solid cock. "I'm liking you more and more, so we may be together a while."

Hayden jerked his arms free and reached for her pale throat. The skin beneath his palms was wet, slick, smooth. And cold, lifeless.

"Go up there and fuck your girlfriend," she said, then shoved him away and moved toward the wall of the row house. She propped her booted foot on the cornerstone and lifted herself. She slithered up; her hands clutching the frost-covered bricks, then paused about ten feet from the ground. "And make it hot. Because I'll be watching." And with that, she crept up to the third-floor window and nestled under the eave.

Still feeling the soul-stealing gaze of Mattie's cold, hungry eyes, Hayden jogged up the snow-covered steps. After kicking the heavy, white heap away from the door, he pulled it open and stumbled inside. A gust of icy air and cloud of flakes followed him in, blasting his face and sending a sharp chill down his neck. Once the door was closed tight, he paused, looking through the beveled glass, searching through the blizzard-filled night. Of course, she wasn't there where he could see her.

She was hovering above the window, waiting.

A new type of shiver worked its way down his spine. A fierce tremor that he didn't know but understood.

Do it.

Whatever she wanted, he would. If only to manage her until he could get control, decide what to do next. Hell, he needed more than control—he needed to find a way to get rid of her.

Breathing in a lungful of pure, warm air, he headed up the stairs, each step filling him deeper with a new dread—bringing Rachelle into whatever it was he had with Mattie. He would make it all right, manage the situation. Somehow. As long as Rachelle didn't come in contact with Mattie, he could keep her out of it. Whatever it was that he'd gotten himself into.