As many of you know, Blood and Honey was inspired by something I wrote in 2012 that I lovingly tilted v-story. About the only similar things between the two is Tristan being Tristan and the way Kinley smells, that's about it. Kinley was originally named Summer. Yes, Summer. It's my go to name when I'm writing and don't feel like spending three weeks on a name. Anyway, as a thank you for the support for the many votes for the fiction awards, I thought it'd be fun to do a mini throwback series. Or, at the very least give you guys a good laugh at my writing circa 2012 and the birth origins of the story y'all have championed and shipped to my giddy delight!
This is the original "Condo break in scene" if you will and the setting isn't lovely beach front water views of San Diego, it's Vegas baby.
I may regret this. Oh, well. What's life if you can't laugh at yourself? This better not effect my chances of being long listed for the wattys! Hey, a girl has to dream! ^_^
It takes but a twist of the knob to break the sensor which serves as protection from intruders. I soundlessly shut the door behind me. The dark contemporary décor clash against the bright lights of the Vegas strip visible from the floor to ceiling windows decorating the back wall of this pricey condo complex. The black leather sofa, plush sheepskin rug, and well stocked mini bar leads me to believe unit 7025 of this thirty-floor complex doesn't belong to the human I'm after. It screams bachelor pad with its seminal fluid musk and pine-sol overkill. I wonder if the human I followed in here knows what all lies on that seemingly perfectly "cleaned" leather couch and rug?
Based on her reaction to me earlier, I'm betting not. If she did, she'd probably be far far away from this place. That leaves me with two theories. Either she's a new tenant that hails from wealth that moved into a prefinished condo whose turnover practices are not indicative of the price tag she paid or she's visiting. Or—I skim my fingers along the exotic fish tank, drawn toward the humming of rushing water climbing the pipes, shortly followed by the sound of water bursting from a shower head coming from the other room—perhaps, she's babysitting the little fishes while Mr. high roller who owns this well over a million dollar condo is away.
Noiselessly, I continue towards the glow of light streaming from the bedroom, the sound of running water getting louder. My lungs immediately burn upon entry. Her scent is overwhelmingly strong in the closed quarters of the bedroom. A foreign heat begins to build in my center sending my senses into a frenzy. Thirst, rage, hunger, lust, all swirl together, churning a deadly storm inside of me. I have never before felt something like this. It is as if the ravenous beast inside me is trying to claw its way out of me to slay this human before I get a chance to. I shake the feeling and press on, rounding the corner to the bathroom. I have plans for this petrified human and I'm not about to let her potent blood bring this night to a premature end.
Tonight is meant to be fun.
For me that is.
Steam fills the bathroom, casting a fog that gives me even more of an advantage than I already have. I stop breathing so that the human from the bookstore will not hear me.
She stands fully clothed in the shower. She turns, leaving the water to warm. I step back into the shadows of her room when she makes her way over to the sink and removes a clip from her hair. Silently, I move behind her, stopping two and a half feet directly behind her. The dark side of me, a side born simply because of what I am, imagines slamming her head into the mirror, pieces of glass embedded in her flesh as sweet scarlet blood drips over muscles that twitch involuntary, her skull crushed.
The human sucks in a deep breath and closes her eyes. Her face crinkles, fighting back emotions that threaten to spill forth.
The sound of rushing water ceases.
The human whirls around, her heart pumping blood faster through her veins. She stares at the shower, watching water drops splash onto the tile in a slow and timed succession from the turned-off faucet. She rests her elbows on the marble sink, holding her head in her hands.
"Get a hold of yourself." She breathes out a shaky breath, recollecting her sanity it appears as she straightens up.
The human wipes off a small portion of the fogged mirror staring at the reflection of the shower. For the shadows of the doorway, I can practically see her internal thoughts from scroll across her face. I could have sworn I turned the shower on. When the shower doesn't magically turn back on after her silent wishes that it would from the looks of it, she sighs heavily. She walks back over to the shower and turns the water back on.
The human runs her hand under the water after making sure, this time, the nozzle is secured in the "on" position. She turns it off, then on, then off. She lets the leaking pipe drip onto her hand as the residual water in the shower head trickles out. "I'm really losing it today," she exclaims softly, exiting the shower.
She walks over to the sink again and leans in looking closely at herself in the mirror, her facial expression is grime. "You're not crazy."
Her gaze shifts from her reflection to the turned off shower. She stares long and hard before her face flushes with anger. The tiny human unleashes her frustration upon the shower by throwing an empty cup. The glass cup shatters into pieces. She turns her back to the shower, taking a hard look at herself in the mirror again. This time, her reflection is not alone.
She whirls around to face the large shadow that has emerged from behind only to be lifted into the air by her throat. She claws at mine hands with hers, a natural reaction to me literally squeezing the life out her. I push her back onto the bathroom vanity and do not stop till her upper body is pinned against the mirror. I release her.
"Miss me?" I grab her by the chin roughly and force her to look at me.
The struggle to regain her breath keeps her from answering in words, yet her widened eyes and trembling body is answer enough.
My stomach twist in response to being so close, her spiced scent saturating every part of me.
"Not even a hello? Why so cold?" I say while picking her up by her throat, her feet dangling above the bathroom floor before I pin her against the bare wall to my left. "It is going to be a long night if you do not start talking."
"Wake up." Tears spill over her lower lashes in a mad rush. "Just wake up. This isn't real. WAK-" I cut her scream by pressing my forearm into her windpipe.
"Shhhh. We do not want to alarm the neighbors. Unless, you don't like them. Then, it would be very appropriate to continue screaming."
The human's petite body shakes as she fights back large sobs. She pushes against me with what little strength she can find, her body weak with fright and hysteria. I spin her into me, cradling her from behind. All her weight plummets towards the ground, forcing me to catch her as she almost slips from my hold. I did not expect her legs to give way.
"Please don't do this."
Let the games began.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Okay, so I may have at least ran it through grammarly, deleted a few way too cringe-worthy and unclear lines, and fixed somethings to make this less embarrassing to share. Just be happy I've grown in my writing because there is a reason I am picking and choosing scenes and not staring from the beginning. It's that bad y'all. Early me, had no flow.
Disclaimer: Updates on this throwback segment are subject to authors ability to stand embarrassment and time allowances as she's vowing to complete The Beast of The Damned by Mid-September!
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Blood & Honey #1
Vampire~A Wattys and Fiction Award winner* A lion does not need an invitation from a lamb. That is not the way of the predator. Predators take what they want, when they want it, however they please. And this belief that I am, that evil is, enslaved by the...
