Page 7 of Haunted Nightmares
Zenlothanai was relentless before I left, badgering and begging me to go out and raise hell. They wanted a new plaything, a victim, a sacrifice to keep their voices at bay but I was fighting them so hard I had to get out.
Every day, every night, I fight their demands, fight the way they push me to give in to the rotting madness, the way they force me to fall deeper into it. I suppose it’s from what little remains of my mate, the parts of her that still reside inside of me that cause me to push down the voices. Or at the very least, prevent them from taking control completely, but even I—one of the few remaining Descendants and oldest of our kind—usually give in. In one form or another, anyway.
So tonight, when I left to sate Zenlothanai, my mood was foul at best and if I hadn’t been foundby the pesky little males I just left downstairs, there’s no telling what I would have done this evening.
No use putting all that negative energy to waste.
Embracing my shadows and allowing their black mist to fully envelop me, I move like smoke through the crack in the door,slipping in undetected through the small opening. I slide along the wall, curling in wisps against the peeling wallpaper so that I may see who trespasses on my property.
Two youths, maybe seventeen or eighteen, stand in front of the open window, the glass at their feet indicating they broke it in order to get in. A male and a female, human young dressed in black with knit caps on their heads and sneakers on their feet.
“Wow,” the female whispers as she removes her gloves, looking around the spare room with wide eyes. “It’s beautiful.”
“It stinks,” the male whispers back. “And we aren’t even downstairs yet.”
I watch in secret as the female steps into the middle of the room, spinning in a slow circle to take in the lavish furniture and expensive antiques now collecting dust and decay. “Don’t be such a grump, Alan. This house is gorgeous, and we’re here to?—“
“Ghost hunt?” The male—Alan—pounces on the female quickly, grabbing her hips from behind and causing her to squeal as she jumps.
Giggling a little, she relaxes against him as he wraps her in his arms. “That, and see what all the fuss is about.”
“The distraught prince of the vampires,” Alan begins. “A recluse, a demon. Said to have gone into hiding after he went nuts and slaughtered his entire coven.” I internally roll my eyes at that, the way facts get blurred when humans are left to their stories. The male moves closer to the female, holding her tighter before his hands begin to wander. “He killed himself shortly after that, so full of guilt that he couldn’t live with what he’d done.”
Hardly.
There’s a touch of truth there too, but it shows what little they really know about us.
Killing myself isn’t really on the table, and any guilt I harbor has nothing to do with the fall of my coven.
Stupid kids.
“It’s so sad.” The female looks over the room again, her gaze touching on the armoire and framed photos before landing on the queen size bed. “You can feel the sadness in here.”
Alan presses a kiss to her neck as he toys with the fly of her jeans. “They’re vampires, Maggie. They don’t feel things the way we do, it’s all myths and shit.”
The shadows and black mist drop to the floor as I slide along the wood toward the couple, annoyed with their presence in my house and growing agitated over their wild inaccuracies of what left it in this state.
Maggie turns in his arms, wrapping hers around Alan’s neck as she looks up at him with big dark eyes. “I don’t believe that. Vampires blended in with us for centuries before the Species War and if they werethatdifferent from humans, we would have noticed them sooner. You can’t tell me this house doesn’t feel sad after everything that happened to the ones who owned it.”
Empathy is such a wasted gift.
Whether humans or vampires, it does nothing but bog down its host and make them crazy with emotions.
I used to value empathy, respect those like Orion and… those who had a talent for it but now it’s merely a nuisance, and makes those who possess it a great pain in my arse. Proven by the fact that Orion is currently in my foyer, and this human female is here out ofpityover a situation she has no clear handle on.
Nipping at their heels and whipping around their legs, I get close enough to allow for their minds to start playing tricks on them, and when Maggie jumps again and holds Alan tighter, I almost grin.
“What was that?” she whispers as her eyes desperately search the darkness.
Alan smiles down at her before kissing her neck again. “What was what?”
“You didn’t feel that? Almost like a cat rubbing your ankles before biting at them?”
“No,” he says as she faces him again. “I didn’t feel anything.”
“Really?”
“Really.” The boy smirks as he lowers his face toward hers. “Nothing but my boner poking you in the stomach, anyway.”
