Of course, when he’d been a new vampire, it had taken him a while to learn how to control his blood cravings, and he had taken blood directly from humans. Occasionally, he’d taken too much and had accidentally killed humans. Over the years he’d learned to control himself better. When blood had become more readily available on the commercial market, he’d switched to it.
As he slowly lifted Isabella’s hand to lips, he hoped that he wouldn’t loose control, as the last thing he wanted to do was to hurt her. He could sense that she was afraid from the look in her eyes, and he hated that he was the cause of that. But he had to do this.
Helplessly, Isabella watched as he removed the bandage and lifted his hand to his lips. Then she watched in silence and horror as his tongue licked gently over the cut, lapping up the blood. She felt a warm tingling feeling on her fingers and noticed that the remaining blood flow stopped instantly. When he closed his mouth, she saw him swallow and inhale sharply.
His eyes suddenly locked with hers. “Oh God, your blood tastes good. Like lavender.”
She watched him lower his mouth, but couldn’t stop him. His lips brushed hers lightly before he took her mouth and captured her. That was when she knew with absolute certainty that she wasn’t dreaming. This was really happening. She knew his touch, his taste, his scent. He was real, and he had just healed a cut on her hand with his saliva. He was…. What the hell was he?
She didn’t have much time to think, because he gave her that same weird look and said. “I want you to forget about this… I should probably make you forget about me too, but I don’t think I want that. So forget about just this particular moment. There was no injury. You didn’t Hurt yourself at work and I didn’t heal you. Nothing weird happened here… Well, except for the Kiss and you almost smashing my foot open with your heels.”
Isabella blinked, and Samson knew that his compulsion had worked. He let go of her hand then.
“Thank you so much.” Isabella said, Cleary having no memory of what had just happened, and she stretched out her hand again. “And Happy Birthday.”
Samson smiled and took her hand, but instead of shaking it, he slowly guided it to his mouth and kissed it lightly without breaking eye contact. “Thank you.”
She felt a hot wave course all the way from her hand to her torso. God, he was handsome and a perfect gentleman-when he wasn’t kissing her against her will anyway. That was maybe something she could get past easily.
Isabella hesitantly turned away and followed him outside. She noticed that it had stopped raining as she followed him to his car. He opened the door for her and as she let herself fall back into the comfortable leather seat, she sighed. What a night! The thought of the man who’d tried to attack her still made her shudder, but as a result of it she had gotten the opportunity to spend some time with the sexiest and most attractive man of her life, so who cared about the first part of the story?
“Where is your address?” Samson asked her, interrupting her thoughts and she grinned awkwardly at how she had let herself get carried away by her thoughts.
She gave him the address of her apartment. For a second she wondered whether she should still go to the a police station to report what had happened to her, but dismissed the idea. She didn’t want to spend half the night at a police station reporting the assault. She had gotten away from the guy anyways.
“Ah, that’s not even too far away. We’ll be there in a few minutes if I’m right.” Samson said.
Isabella nodded and settled back into the leather seat again and closed her eyes. Samson Perry. Tall, dark, and handsome. The star in any woman’s wet dream. She touched her lips, the same lips he’d crushed with his. The brandy had obliterated his taste on her tongue, but she could still feel his body pressed against hers and his erection urging her to surrender to him.
Surrender. Give up control. The notion frightened and excited her at the same time. Of course, it would never happen. The guy was so hot and she was sure that she wasn’t even his type. After he dropped her off, she would probably never see him again.
————–
“We can’t just storm Greenville without a plan, Desmond. That would be sucide.” Travis said, “The place is crawling with vampires and we don’t even know them. We have to come up with a plan if we are going to do this”
Jeremiah Desmond wasn’t listening. He paced the large room moving back and forth restlessly, his eyes filled with pain and anger… Anger at himself… At the world. His son was dead, and there was no way in hell that he was going to let it slide. Someone had to pay, and he wasn’t going to rest until someone did. He stopped suddenly to face Travis.
“That’s easy for you to say, Travis” he said, his eyes flashing. “It wasn’t your kid who got murdered in cold blood. And if it was, you wouldn’t sound this way. You would want revenge and you wouldn’t stop until you have it. But you can’t even relate, because you don’t even have a Child, so I guess there’s no point talking to you”
Travis ignored that comment, knowing that Jeremiah was was In pain, and he couldn’t blame him. The worse day in every parents life was the day that they got a call about the death of their Child, especially when the cause of the death was something they had been trying to rid the world off for years. He couldn’t even wish this on his worse enemy, he thought as he watched Jeremiah pace the room, chanelling all his anger into his desire to kill a vampire… Any vampire.
They were vampire hunters. The four of them, Travis, Jeremiah, Paul and Matthew had made it their life’s mission to get rid of vampires as much as they could
And they had succeeded in hunting down and killing some of them.