Just One Taste

She watched him from across the basement studio. His sleek young body, finely muscled and honed to perfection. Vivian longed to break the supple skin at his neck and sup sweetly of his life. The urges came more strongly now, ones she thought long buried and dead. The ones that told her to hunt and claim; to take her fill and damn the consequences.

To take another mate would open her up to the hurt and pain of their eventual loss, because in the end they all died. The memories crowded her mind as she stared with hunger at the flexible body contorted in advanced yoga poses. His dark good looks and powerful form reminded her of her first lost love.

The blood and screams from the death of Ian, killed by her maker because he had to have her, still haunted her after almost four centuries. Killed when he stood up to the unknown madness that had cornered them in their village, torn limb from limb and scattered like a broken doll, Ian's life was crushed before her horrified eyes.

Eyes that now gazed upon such sheer physical perfection that every cell in her body screamed for her to take him and mark him as her own. Is this the madness that overcame her maker that night? Or was it his spoiled perverted need to take and kill that later justified his taking of her happiness and innocence? Could she hold back the same urges with better luck?

Her incisors elongated and she kept her mouth closed so the humans couldn't see. She smelled him over the others in the room, the fragrance teasing and tormenting all at once. The bouquet of his blood reminded her of home, of the dreams lost and the love that died there. Sweet, young, strong and red. It called to her, beckoned her closer; lulled her to trust.

Vivian moved down the crowded studio to stand near the object of her desire. She slid in to place next to him and contorted her body to match his. The peace he radiated outward lured her like a drug. To have him as her own meant she could have that feeling everyday. No, he deserves a better life then the one I can offer.

One taste, that's all she wanted. To break his skin with a gentle nick, to drink from him in deep pulls, and to hold him close while he shivered in the joy her bite would bring. In the end, it was his innocence and happiness that saved him. The longing inside screamed in frustration as the vampire chose to take the morally high road. He is fifteen! I will not do it!

After one last pose, one long look, one last deep breath of his scent, Vivian turned to leave the basement. She knew she could not stop with just one taste.