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ROY PINCHED THE BRIDGE of his nose. He’d been staring at the clapboard house for hours, willing someone to leave. To see a light turn on inside or a shape pass by a window. Anything. But the house was still. Unnaturally so. Unsettlingly so. Roy had begun to wonder whether he was at the correct location.
Night had fallen. He knew that their kind couldn’t resist leaving at night. That’s when they hunted, slaughtering innocents and drinking their blood. Filthy monsters.
Scanning the rest of the street—if this wooded trail could even be considered a street—he saw that the bloodsuckers’ house was surrounded by acres of woods. Their closest neighbor was a mile away. It was an ideal lair for a trio of murders.
Sure, the house looked innocuous enough. To the untrained eye, it was a lovely, well-maintained ranch-style house built a little more than twenty years ago with a two-car garage that sat on a level lot where one would guess a lovely family lived. One would be wrong, of course. In each of the three bedrooms the house boasted slept a vampire. And not a fabled vegan vampire who abstained from human blood in favor of animal blood. That was all a myth. A cute little story made up to help humankind sleep a little easier. One that deluded them into believing they could coexist peaceably with monsters. What a load of crap that was! The only thing that sustained a vampire was blood. Human blood. That’s it. To make matters worse, immediately after feeding, they were stronger than ever. Granted, their strength wasn’t a match for Roy, but it was augmented considerably. The equivalent of an anabolic steroid rush. Taking out three just after feeding would be a challenge. Doable, for sure, but not one he was in the mood for. Vanquishing a small coven, such as the one this threesome had formed, had always been messy. And messy led to too many possibilities for loose ends, which is why Roy always chose to attack either before they fed or during daylight hours when their strength was greatly reduced.
Sighing, he envisioned the rush he would feel when he ended their horrid lives. The look on their divine faces when they realized they, the self-proclaimed fiercest predators, had become prey. His eyes were half closed, poised to shut fully as he reveled in the picture his mind produced, when movement flashed in his periphery. An outside light came on and three shapes emerged. Two male and one female. The same three vampires who’d approached him at The Porterhouse Grille and Spirits.
Recalling their audacity that night sent rage bubbling just below the surface of Roy’s skin. He quickly killed the interior light of his car and considered slipping out of his car and killing them then and there. His heart thundered in his ears as adrenaline saturated every cell in his body. He reached out, his fingers wrapping around the handle of the door. He was confident he could take them, but would it be foolish to take a chance at creating a bloodbath for which he’d be solely responsible for? The answer was no. Especially when he could come back the next day and annihilate them with ease.
Roy released the door handle and watched as the three of them took off in a flash. Off to murder innocents no doubt. “Hurry, filthy bloodsuckers. Feed. It’ll be the last time you ever do,” he said to himself.
A glance at the clock on the dashboard of his car revealed that it was only eight. The night was still young. He’d be returning to the house the next day. While the drive wasn’t long at all, he didn’t see the point of going back then returning. Not when his home state of Pennsylvania had so much to offer. Nightlife in Scranton, just an hour west of his current location, had a lively club scene.
Roy looked at himself in the rearview mirror. Brilliant blue eyes gazed back at him. The scruff on his face was just right along his strong, angular jawline. It was always a good choice regardless of what was trendy at the moment. It was rugged and sexy. Just like him. Taking in the rest of his features, he laughed. He was far too good looking to simply go home for the night. He’d gift the world with his presence. Since it was Friday night and Scranton clubs would be packed with young people society deemed beautiful, he decided Scranton would be the lucky recipient of his presence. He’d show them what true beauty was. He’d show them...him.
After navigating winding side streets that were all dark, tree-lined and impossible to tell apart, Roy entered Interstate 84. He followed the highway for just under an hour before he found himself on the Central Scranton expressway. From there he followed his GPS to US11, then turned off onto Linden. He parked then stroke up to a club called Levels on Linden.
Roy could hear the thunderous bass rumbling from Levels on Linden nightclub from a block away. But it was nothing compared to what hit him when he walked through the door. He’d parked, smirking as he approached. From what he’d read, he was in for a treat at this place. Three levels of entertainment offered to guests. The first level was a bar area with restaurant-style seating throughout the floor. Well-lit and with popular music that wasn’t too loud, conversations could be heard and food was being served. The rumble in his stomach at the sight of a sizzling steak as it passed on a waitress’s tray rivaled another need that had been burgeoning for almost two days. For a moment, he contemplated staying, ordering a meal and then exploring the rest of the club. But the tightness below his navel usurped his hunger. He’d satisfy both hungers tonight, but eating would have to wait. So Roy moved on to the second level. It was a very relaxed, lounge-type atmosphere with couch-style seating. The people there were well-dressed and appeared deep in conversation. Roy wasn’t particularly interested in the second level. It seemed as though the people there were paired up. If he were to stay, that would change. Women couldn’t resist him. That typically pissed off men. He didn’t want any drama. What he needed was release. It had been days since he’d been with a woman. Too long. So he continued to the third level. There, he discovered the source of the bass that had thundered from a block away. A dance club, with loud music, bars, a dance floor, and a stage equipped with cages unfurled before him. Packed with scantily clad girls gyrating and rubbing up against eager guys, as well as each other, the dance floor was crowded. Hundreds of bodies danced frenetically under psychedelic lights, a sea of people grinding and writhing to the roll of booming bass.
Crossing the dance floor, all heads turned his way. Despite the throbbing music and generous flow of alcohol, he remained, as always, the highlight of the guests’ experience. A shrewd smile played across Roy’s lips when a spirited blonde wearing a gray see-through top with a plunging neckline and tight pants that showed off her toned legs stopped to look as him as though she were a starving woman and he were a five-course meal. She’d been going wild on the dancefloor before she’d spotted him. He supposed she was hot by most standards, certainly closer to his caliber than any of the women he’d seen at The Porterhouse, though the shade of her hair was a bit flashy. But then she’d turned and he saw that she’d chosen a too-bright shade of lipstick, an obvious attempt to draw attention to herself, that made her look more clown than vixen. She smiled at him, an expression he assumed she intended to be seductive but for Roy it had the opposite effect. It made her full lips appear to stretch across her face comically, worsening her clown-like appearance. He passed her as he made his way through the undulating crowd. She reached out brazenly and touched him, letting her hand slide from his shoulder down his arm.
Instinctively, Roy whipped around, glaring at the girl who’d dared to have the effrontery to touch him without being invited to do so. She looked startled and he softened his expression.
Taking his toned-down expression as an invite, she moved in close, pressing her breasts to his chest. “Dance with me,” she commanded in a sultry voice.
Too bad all Roy could do was worry some of her bright-red lipstick had smudged onto his clothes, or worse, his ear.
“I’m Selina,” she breathed into his ear then she began sensually grinding her body against his. “You like that?”
Roy gripped her hips, trying to still the gyration. But all that did was incite her, spawning more aggressive writhing.
Making an “o” with her clown-lips, Selina narrowed her eyes. He supposed she thought she was conveying some kind of carnal interest in him. To him she looked ridiculous. Still, Roy found himself fascinated by the ridiculous woman whose pelvis was mashing into his. On one hand, he fully understood her interest in him. He was irresistible, and not because of pheromones or a trick of nature. His allure was raw, masculine appeal. But on the other hand, she had to own a mirror at home. She had to know that despite her fit body and symmetrical features, the garishness of her lip color ruined her looks entirely. He also wasn’t a fan of her brassy blonde hair. Both the lips and the hair were desperate cries for attention. Yet she acted with such confidence. Such boldness. Selina was a riddle. One Roy wasn’t interested in solving.
“Yeah you do like that, don’t you?” Selina arched her back, grazing his chest with hers before she leaned back, showcasing her flexibility. When she returned to an upright position, she asked, “What’s your name?” as she trailed a finger down the deep valley between his impressive pectoral muscles.
Roy leaned in, as if he were about to tell her, but instead ran his soft lips the length of her neck, tracing them enticingly from the base of her neck to just below her earlobe just for fun.
“Why don’t we go someplace quieter?” Selina’s eyes locked on his. “It’s so hot in here.” Her speech was slightly slurred, the alcohol she’d consumed had kicked in.
A half smile raised one corner of Roy’s mouth. He knew it must be a devilishly delicious expression as Selina grinned widely. The sight made his stomach churn. But he knew that part of his role in society was to play the game and blend for as long as possible.
“You still haven’t told me your name.” Selina spun and thrusted her backside into his crotch. She rolled her hips against him.
Feeling as though he may spew the acidic contents of his stomach, he swallowed hard. In a voice that was whiskey smooth he said in her ear, “You don’t need to know my name.” His lips brushed the shell of her ear sensuously. She made a purring sound. He ran his fingertips down the side of her body. “Our time is up.” He didn’t wait around for a response. He turned and strode off, allowing himself to be carried away on the current of heaving bodies. And then he saw her. A woman who might actually be worthy of a night with him. She sat at the bar. Lengths of hair the shade of dark chocolate spilled over her shoulders to the small of her back. She wore a simple black dress, the material was thin and skimmed her curves. Full bosom, small waist, and hips that flared out proportionately to her chest ended with long, tan legs. From where he stood, he could only see her profile. Pert nose. Plump lips. Dark eyes. He needed to see more. Especially since the dim light of clubs was forgiving and concealed flaws. He strutted up beside her and forced his way into a seat that was about to be taken by a sloppy-looking woman who looked as though she’d had a few too many drinks. She didn’t protest. She mumbled a few incoherent words then disappeared.
Glancing over at the woman he wanted to get a better look at, he noticed her glass of white wine was almost empty and that she was talking to the man to her right, a short man with a wide flat nose and hair transplants that could be seen from a mile away. He caught the eye of the bartender and didn’t need to wave her over. One look at Roy and she practically ran to serve him.
“What can I get you?” the bartender shouted over the music.
“A Shock Top and,” he looked over at the woman beside him, placing a hand lightly on her forearm, “what are you having?”
The woman turned and faced him. Obsidian eyes framed by thick, dark eyelashes trained on him. She quirked a brow at him prettily then licked her plump, rosebud lips. “Pinot Grigio,” she replied.
He smiled. Then to the bartender, he said, “A Shock Top for me and a Pinot Grigio for the lady.”
“You bet,” the bartender said then set about retrieving their drinks.
“Thank you,” the woman beside him said.
“I’m Roy,” Roy extended a hand politely.
“I’m Sara,” the woman replied. She placed a slender hand with perfectly manicured nails into his.
He pressed his lips to the top of her hand. The skin was soft, almost as soft as his lips.
Sara’s eyes widened. For a split second, she looked as though she might giggle. When she didn’t, Roy was glad. Women who giggled were fools. And foolish, giggling women weren’t good enough to spend time with him.
“And I’m David.” The man with the weird hairline reached around Sara, looking annoyed as he stabbed his hand forward in a less-than-polite manner to shake hands with Roy.
Roy simply looked down at the outstretched hand, regarding it as if it were covered in feces, and ignored David. He looked at Sara only and asked, “Are you here with anyone?”
“No. My friends are on the dancefloor. We just met.” She nodded toward David.
“Yes, we just met, and we were having a lovely conversation until you pushed your way in here,” David huffed.
Roy, ignoring David, continued smiling his dazzling smile at Sara when their drinks arrived.
“A Shock Top for you and a Pinot Grigio for the lady,” the bartender said as she placed drinks in front of them. “That’ll be twenty-five dollars.”
Roy placed a hundred-dollar bill on the bar. “Keep the change,” he told her without taking his eyes off Sara. But Sara had studied the bill. Her eyes had lit up at his generosity. He could fairly see the wheel spinning in her mind as she undoubtedly thought, “If he was that generous with a stranger, imagine how generous he’ll be with me!”
“Thank you,” Sara said to Roy. “How very sweet of you.”
“Please, no need to thank me. The pleasure is all mine.” He dipped his head. He was about to raise his glass to toast the night when David piped up.
In his whiny voice, he said, “Okay, that’s it.” He wiped sweat from his enormous forehead. “Thank you for the drink, Roy was it?”
Roy watched him, amused as the bizarre little man tried to mark his territory.
“But Sara and I were talking first,” he continued. “And we’d appreciate it if you left.”
He could tell David was simmering. He could hear the tremendous strain in his tone, see the anger flashing in his nondescript brown eyes and the flushing of his pasty skin.
Roy laughed. He looked from David to Sara. “Sara, would you appreciate it if I left?” he asked with amusement lacing his words.
“No, I wouldn’t. Actually, I’d be upset if you left,” she replied.
“So you don’t want me to go?” he questioned with mock incredulity.
“No, not at all.” Sara smiled at Roy, flashing even, white teeth.
Stepping around Sara, Roy’s face remained friendly when he said, “You heard the lady.”
David pouted, mumbling words to himself that were drowned out by the music of the club, but didn’t make a move to leave.
“Get lost,” Roy told him.
David’s head snapped up. “What did you just say to me?” Tone huffy and loud and temper flaring along with his pig-like nostrils, he was indignant.
All friendliness vanished from Roy’s face as anger threatened to vent like lava. This David character had dared to raise his voice at him. “I said fuck off,” Roy said and stared hard at David.
David eyed Roy, his gaze raking up and down his enormous build. The build of a man, a real man. “Fuck you!” David shouted while pointing his finger at Roy.
Roy ground his molars so hard he swore he heard enamel splinter as rage filled him. He wanted nothing more than to chase David down and beat him to a pulp in front of everyone in the club. But he resisted. He was more interested in leaving with Sara than putting on a show for a roomful of drunken idiots. So he let David leave, unscathed. It was hard. But he managed.
He took a deep breath and turned to Sara. “You handled that so well,” she praised. “A lot of guys would’ve hit him for being like that. But not you. You knew better.” She paused and cocked her head to one side, creating a narrative and doing all the work for him. “You’re a really big guy and know how much damage you can do. You’d have crushed him.”
Roy looked down and feigned a shy smile. “I don’t know what would’ve happened,” he said with modesty he didn’t possess. He knew exactly what would’ve happened. He’d have broken every bone in David’s puny body.
Sara reached out and gave his arm a playful shove. “Oh listen to you! You’re so humble!” Her hand lingered, exploring the size and firmness of his bicep. Both were flawless. “You’re super jacked but not like a clunky body builder. You do more than lift, right?”
Roy looked away first then met her eyes. She was feasting on his pretend reluctance. “I do mixed martial arts.”
Eyes widening and sparkling with delight, Sara tossed her head back. “I knew it. I could tell by the way you’re built.” She lifted her glass to her lips and sipped her wine.
“Would you like to get out of here? Go someplace quieter so we can talk and get to know each other better?” Roy asked. “It’s hard to talk over blaring music.” He smiled.
“Sure,” Sara relied. “Let’s go.” Sara stood, the long, lean lines of her silhouette striking next to the other women he’d seen.
He took her hand in his, leading her out of the club and down two flights of stairs. They exited Levels on Linden and were headed toward his car when a voice called out behind him.
“Hey asshole!” the nasally voice said.
Roy whirled, spinning toward the sound. He saw David, the obnoxious little jerk who’d been trying to talk to Sara before he’d arrived, standing before him. He was flanked by two much larger men. Feet shoulder-width apart and chest puffed out, David wore a smug expression. Roy turned from him and continued walking.
“I don’t know what his problem is, but he’s not worth it,” Sara whispered to him.
“Hey! I’m talking to you!” David called.
A hand gripped Roy’s shoulder. Roy froze then spun, knocking David’s hand from him. Then, with a smile that was pure malice, he said as pleasantly, “David, can I help you with something?”
“Yeah, you can! I wanna know who the hell you think you are?” He jabbed a stubby finger at Roy, rising up on tiptoes and still not meeting his eyes.
Roy stared stonily at David, mentally boring a hole into his giant forehead. “I’m Roy. I thought we established that back at the bar, when I introduced myself. And that’s not who I think I am, it’s who I know I am.” He spoke in such a patronizing manner, enjoying every moment that he talked down to David, he had to repress a chuckle. “Speaking of introductions, aren’t you going to introduce me to your boyfriends?” he clipped his chin toward the mountainous men on either side of him.
“What the hell did you just say?” the one on the right leaned forward and said.
Roy ignored him, focusing his attention on David. “Let me guess, you just paid them to teach me a lesson, right?” He tossed his head back and laughed viciously. “What a little coward! I wonder, how does a person find guys like them? Is there a rent-a-thug website? It is like Uber?”
“What? No!” David’s voice pitched up an octave. Of course, Roy was right. David knew it. Everyone there knew it.
“I’m in a good mood today, so I’m going to give you a piece of advice: walk away. All of you walk away before you get hurt.” Roy stared at David unflinchingly.
Unsure of what to do, the three of them looked among each other. David screwed up his features at the man to his right and the man stepped forward. “Listen, punk,” the man started and jammed a finger into Roy’s chest. But the rest of his sentence died in his throat.
Roy reached out with lightning speed and gripped the finger pressed against him. He snapped it as if it were a dried twig. The man cried out, but his cry was silenced by Roy’s skull smashing into his face. The crunch of bone filled the space around them and blood gushed from the man’s nose. He collapsed to the pavement, screaming in pain. The other man moved on Roy, swinging his fist in a wide, sloppy arc. Roy sidestepped the blow, positioning himself behind the man and gripping his head. He slammed the man’s head into the side window of a car parked beside his, shattering it. The man fell to the ground, unconscious. David’s eyes were round after he’d watched his hired muscle beaten by Roy. He turned to run, but Roy grabbed him.
Spinning David and forcing him to look upon his divine face, Roy laughed. “What’s the matter, David? Not feeling tough anymore?”
David didn’t say a word. He stood stock still, avoiding eye contact.
Completely devoid of mercy, patience or humor, Roy launched his powerful fist forward, his punch hammering David’s weak, double chin. David’s head jerked backward, his jaw sitting at an unnatural angle. Blood poured from his mouth. He stumbled and fell on his backside, screeching and crying in pain. Roy stood with his hands on his hips, surveying the sad scene before him and feeling a pang of distress. He regretted that he wouldn’t be able to teach them the kind of lesson he taught so well. The lessons he taught for a living. Too many witnesses loitered about. It was David and the others’ lucky night.
“Wow!” Sara’s voice was filled with pride. He turned toward it and looked directly into her eyes. She tossed her hair off her shoulder and thrust her chest forward. “You’re something else.” She shook her head slowly, her eyes never leaving his. “Forget about finding a quieter place to have drinks and talk, let’s go back to my place.”
“Really?” Roy faked surprise.
“Yeah, really.” She pulled her shoulders back, giving her round breasts center stage. “I live just a few miles from here. I’m not sure if I have the beer you were drinking but I have Corona in the fridge and a bottle of Pinot Grigio.”
“That sounds great. I love Corona.” He held out his hand and she took it. He walked her around the side of his brand-new Mercedes Benz AMG 65 sedan.
“This is some car,” Sara marveled as he opened the passenger door for her. Once she was inside, he closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side. As soon as he’d slid behind the steering wheel, she asked, “What do you do that you have a car like this?”
“A little of this and a little of that.” He looked over at her and winked.
“Ooh, a man of mystery! I like that!” She clapped her hands in front of her. Roy laughed. “Like James Bond.”
Though Roy cringed at the comparison—after all, he was far better looking and far more deadly than the fictitious character—he didn’t let on. Instead he followed Sara’s directions and arrived at her house within ten minutes. He parked in the driveway of her small, ranch-style home and let her lead him inside.
Through the front door, a tiled foyer waited. Beyond the foyer was a living room with hardwood floors and comfortable-looking couches.
“Sit,” she gestured to the couches. “I’ll grab you a beer and get myself a glass of wine.” She’d turned on the lights but dimmed them considerably, bending to retrieve a small remote on her way to the kitchen and activating music. She returned quickly with a bottle of wine and two glasses. “The beers are warm. Sorry.” She placed the wine, glasses and bottle opener on the coffee table situated in front of the couch.
“No worries, this is great,” he said as he uncorked the bottle. He poured a glass for both of them and waited to see if she guzzled it as many other women had. Thankfully, she didn’t. Rather, she left the glass on the coffee table where he’d placed it and sat on the couch beside him. He liked seeing her perched on the furniture as she was. With her flawless posture, perfectly placed features and smooth glowing skin, she was a striking arrangement. She resembled a well-placed statue. He enjoyed looking at her almost as much as he enjoyed looking at himself.
“It’s funny,” she began. “Most guys I’ve hung out with have complimented me on my looks.”
“You don’t need me to compliment your looks,” he replied flatly. “You know what you look like.”
“You’re right,” she smiled then leaned in to kiss him.
Roy knew he was a phenomenal kisser, knew he excelled at it. She’d melt at the softness and strength of his lips. He leaned toward her, meeting her halfway, and kissed her. Pressing his lips to hers gently at first, he allowed the passion to build, gradually deepening their kiss as he cupped the sides of her face.
Sara moaned.
He withdrew slightly, teasing and tantalizing her with small pecks, placing them on the corners of her mouth then her cheeks until focusing on the sweet spot just behind her earlobe.
She moaned again, tilting her body closer to his so that her breasts brushed his chest.
Roy felt a distinct tightening below his navel. He covered her mouth with his, his tongue seductively exploring her mouth.
“Oh Roy,” she whispered, her voice passion-filled and throaty.
His entire body tingled and hummed with excitement at the sound of his name. Sara, brilliant perceptive Sara, sensed his urgency and climbed atop him, straddling him as she intensified the exploits of her tongue. He answered her style by matching its intensity and allowing his hands to explore her upper body.
When she did not push his hands away, he was all the more encouraged that she was the elite one he would reward with his company regularly. He gripped her bottom tightly and stood. She murmured something inaudible in his ear as he began walking to her bedroom. His strength, combined with the urgency he was feeling, enabled him to reach the bedroom in a few short bounds. Furnished with a mirrored ceiling and dark wood furniture, the room smelled of flowers and vanilla, exotic and sensual and not entirely unpleasant. He sat down, with her still on his lap, and fell back against the mattress. She stopped kissing him briefly. With eyes half closed, she looked down at him. She licked her lips lasciviously then began removing her dress. He admired her figure sheathed in the thin garments she had worn in the hours he’d known her, and couldn’t wait to see it unclothed. But as the fabric fell to the floor, his fantasy of perfection came to an abrupt end. She wore tall, shaping undergarments.
Revolted, he felt his excitement wane. “What is that?” he demanded and pointed at the hideous, high-waisted gear.
“Oh,” she laughed, only her laugh no longer held a melodic quality. “Spanx. I wear them every time I wear a dress.” She posed, clearly thinking she looked cute in them. “If they bother you, I can take them off.”
“Yes, please take them off,” he said and didn’t mask his annoyance.
“Your wish is my command,” she cooed and proceeded to wrestle the extremely tight article off of her body. Once the undergarment was off, however, he wished she’d left it on, for what it revealed was disastrous. Her stomach, which appeared toned and taut while she wore the dress, protruded in a convex arch that extended at least two inches. He was about to end their encounter based on that glaring defect alone when she presented something so awful, so appalling, he froze in place, immobilized by the grotesqueness before him. He stared, willing his eyes to look away, at another far more offensive defect. After removing her dress, she removed her bra and placed in his line of vision a pair of breasts that were not only asymmetrical, but sagged, too. The bra had been part of the ploy, just like the Spanx. He felt nauseated. Yet she writhed above him, smiling confidently, pleasurably, all the while her drooping, lopsided breasts bobbed mockingly before him.
Sara was not what he thought she was. She was defective, substandard and unworthy of his company. She had deceived him, duping him into believing she was deserving of him. He didn’t know how she had done it; how she had managed to falsely advertise her body so well. Typically he noticed lift and size enhancing bras as well as the lines of shapewear. He was not a man who was easily fooled. Her deception was inexcusable.
Roy began to tremble, his anger mounting. She looked down at him and pursed her lips in a way he supposed was intended to be seductive as she arched her back and thrust her deflated, cock-eyed breasts closer to him. He gagged involuntarily, but she didn’t notice. Her behavior screamed that she didn’t feel the least bit remorseful for her duplicitousness. Infuriated, he lunged forward and grabbed her by the throat. He had almost mated with a deceptive fraud and her deceit would not go unpunished. He squeezed harder, watched as her dark eyes bulged and her skin reddened. She tried desperately to draw breath, but he continued tightening his grip until he felt her body go limp. When he was certain life had escaped her, he allowed her body to fall from his lap to the bed. He looked up to the ceiling, feeling a bolt of panic streak through him at yet another unsanctioned kill he’d have to add to the growing list, when the sight of his splendid reflection distracted him, soothed him. True beauty, his beauty, had always had that effect on him. Gazing at the magnificent planes of his bare chest, his excitement returned. With the return of his excitement came the realization that he would, in fact, be satisfied, and by the only person both capable of and worthy of touching his body: him. But before he satisfied his excitement, he needed to purge the bed of the beast beside him. His kicked his leg out hard and forced her body to the floor. The soft thud indicated that Sara was exactly where she belonged. With her disgusting presence eliminated from his field of vision, he refocused on himself. He allowed his hand to caress the expanses of his broad muscular chest, trailing lower, past his navel. He smiled coyly at his reflection before his hand traveled lower still to his groin. With the unsightliness of his date’s appearance removed and the return of his arousal, the promise of true carnal pleasure was guaranteed.
Unfortunately, his intimate moment was interrupted by his phone ringing. Grabbing it from the nightstand, he recognized the number and answered immediately.
“Hello, sir,” he said to his boss.
“Roy, where are you? Why haven’t I received confirmation that your targets have been eliminated?” his boss barked.
“I have three targets, whose whereabouts have been confirmed. They’ll be eliminated tomorrow,” Roy replied.
“Tomorrow?” his boss exclaimed. “Why tomorrow? What have you been wasting your time with? It’s been weeks since you’ve eliminated a target!”
Roy’s eyes darted to Sara as his boss fired questions his way. “I haven’t been wasting my time, sir, I assure you,” he lied. “The targets took a bit longer to find than usual.”
“My patience with you is wearing thin, Roy,” his boss hissed. “You used to be my most active soldier, tracking and killing. But now you’re practically useless!”
A sharp swell of anger rose within Roy. He wanted to shout back at the man on the other end of the phone, to warn his boss that he was still every bit as dangerous as he’d always been. To everyone. No exception. Not even for the mastermind of the operation. But he didn’t. He bit his tongue, instead, knowing better than to break protocol and say things that would not ever be forgotten. Or forgiven.
“I’m sorry, sir,” Roy replied tightly. “I won’t disappoint you again.”
“You’d better not, or it will be the last time you do,” his boss threatened.
“I understand, sir,” Roy replied before he realized he was talking to himself. His boss had already ended the call.
Roy looked up at his reflection in the ceiling once again. He was no longer in the mood for release. And even the sight of himself did little to bolster his spirits. So he gathered his clothes and dressed, leaving Sara splayed on the floor behind him. He didn’t care that her body would be found. Let the police come and dust for fingerprints all they want. They’d find plenty, but they’d never find his in a registry. Roy didn’t exist. He was a phantom. A man who garnered the attention and adoration of everyone who saw him yet managed to move about and act unseen. Tomorrow would be no different. Tomorrow, he’d return to the lovely ranch nestled in the heart of a wooded Pennsylvania community and he would do what his boss contracted him to do, what he’d been designed to do: hunt and kill vampires.