Inhaling deeply, I draw the superbly mouth-watering scent of humans into my awaiting chest cavity as I step into the bookstore. The alluring sound of their coursing blood sends shivers of delight rocketing down my spine and into my core. This immaculate hunting ground is one of my favorites. It never disappoints. Somewhere in here, there is a human who will foot the bill to feed my deep-seated thirst. A human who fails to understand that their species is not the apex predator of this planet, I am.

I have watched for many years as humans spin fables of my kind, and it is because of these beliefs that killing them requires no real talent.

Go ahead, humans, lock yourselves behind the safety of your doors, bathe in holy water, and surround yourselves with garlic and crosses. It doesn't matter what you try. I will come for you day or night.

In fact, my Creator loves me so much that she bestowed my kind with an ability that makes us the most dangerous beings known to this earth—the ability to compel, to manipulate our quarry, rendering them incapable of using the precious gift bequeathed upon them by their God—free will.

What good is "free will" if I can take it from you?

I'll tell you. It is as useless as your fables and myths.

The aroma of fresh cut and bound pages covered in ink blend together with the old, worn, and used books helplessly piled in the bargain bin. Wicked delight tugs the corners of my mouth upward because, soon, I'll have my teeth sunk deep into a human who will be just as helpless.

I head straight to the romance section, knowing I will find a willing victim there. A deep yearning for blood builds in me when I approach an average looking blonde with shoulder-length hair. I can tell by the way the blonde looks at the cover of the book in her hands that she longs to be held by a dark and mysterious man with a body like the statue of David. For him to adore and worship the ground she walks on while he takes her to pleasurable heights she never knew existed.

Easy prey is predictable prey.

I stand two feet away, the woman too engrossed in the book she's holding to notice me. Arrogance exudes from me with a high tilted chin and deceptively relaxed muscles. I'm all too aware I am nature's prevailing force. The moment this human female sees me, she will be putty in my hands. I don't just resemble the men she reads about and longs for, I am the embodiment of perfection. Compulsion will be unnecessary.

Closing my eyes, I bask in the scent of my target. Splendid.

"Excuse me." I flash an attractive, teeth-baring grin. The blonde looks up from the book, her eyes greedily taking in the beauty of my kind. "I'm sorry to bother you, but I couldn't stop myself from staring."

"Oh?" She places the book back on the shelf, curiosity etched in her tone. This is the moment she has been waiting for. The one where a handsome stranger sweeps her off her feet and carries her to bed for a wild and guilt-free night that ends in wedding bells, two point five kids, and a house that comes with a matching yacht.

"Have we met before?" I fix my gaze onto this human's whiskey-brown irises and draw her into me. Melting her so that I can bend her as I please.

"I don't believe so." The blonde's heart rate picks up as her body enters into excitement at this being the prospective turning point of her middle-aged life.

"You're probably right. If we had, I wouldn't have let you walk away. Not when you have such a pretty face."

"Does that line ever work?" The same smile I initiated the conversation with spreads onto the blonde's face. It's a smile that displays extreme interest despite the way her nose crinkled at my blatantly flirtatious and simultaneously cringe-worthy pickup line.

"I don't know, you tell me?"

I seal any doubt this human might have about me being a male who's seeking something beyond a casual introduction by leaving a trail of fire on her skin with a scorching gaze. The hunger that lies within my expression is misleading for the look is nothing more than a predator salivating when his meal is before him.

Breathing in deeply, I pull my prey's scent into my lungs, making sure it's to my liking—sweet lilac. I close my eyes, letting my brain process the pleasant smell as I marinate in the kill that is about to transpire.

Abruptly, a pungent scent from elsewhere crashes into my lungs. The potent aroma knocks me back a step. I am under attack as the intoxicating tang of spice and the deep rich smoldering smell of cinnamon breathes fire to a feverish sensation. The invading fragrance floods into me, peeling off the false mask I wear and revealing the malicious intent that lies underneath.

The blonde looks at me with questioning eyes. The rapid change in my demeanor so drastic she is second-guessing herself. The delectable savor of cinnamon fades as quickly as it came, leaving a wake of dire thirst that's consuming every part of me.

Venom pools in my mouth as trace amounts of the lingering perfume tear away at my self-control. I have never experienced such a powerful, alluring fragrance. My fists automatically clench as I struggle to contain myself.

The blonde's eyes turn from that of a starving puppy to apprehension, the evil aura that surrounds me thickening around her.

Focus Tristan, I internally remind myself that I cannot afford to lose my composure in a public place. I attempt to rein myself in but do so in vain. The scent trapped in my lungs is driving me mad with thirst and hunger.

A deep feral growl emanates from my throat. The blonde is taken back by the unusual sound. Her body quivers as her brain registers what her subconscious already has, that I am dangerous. I can no longer fight the animal that lives inside, a creature destined to kill.

"Wow, look at that. It's past twelve thirty. I have to be somewhere by one. I better get going. Nice meeting you." The blonde rushes off, leaving me to embark on the search for the source of this overbearing scent.

Taking in the air that surrounds me, I drown out the other smells contaminating the room until there is just a faint reminisce of spice left.

I follow the irresistible savor, stalking aisle after aisle of books coming closer to the owner of my torment until I finally see who has caught my attention in the most perilous of ways. A young girl stands with her back toward me in a pale purple sweater dress that clings to her slender, petite hourglass frame. I watch as the human stands up on the tips of her toes, elongating her vertical status. A tingle of pleasure runs through me, a response to the impending chase about to unfold.

"Allow me." Saliva thickens my voice as I grab the book this unfortunate soul is reaching for and lower it within grasp.

"Than—" She cuts her word short when she turns and faces no one. She quickly turns the other direction.

The corner of my mouth wrenches left as I watch her from afar trying to figure out how someone could disappear so quickly. She looks down at the book in her hand, questioning the validity of how it got there.

Taking a few steps back, she widens her line of sight. Next, she walks the ten steps it takes for her to peer into the center aisle, an aisle unclouded by obstructions. The female human peeks into the next aisle. All there is to behold are books on the latest trends in diet and fitness.

She turns 180 degrees toward the sound of an elated scream. The book I so graciously helped her reach falls with a thunk onto the gray carpet. The cry of a little girl morphs into laughter as she flies through the air before landing back in her father's waiting arms.

"You're late. You were supposed to be here at twelve thirty sharp. It's twelve forty-five."

"Come on, Kate. Don't be that way. I got out of the office as soon as I could."

The human's gaze follows the bickering family all the way out the door.

"You dropped this."

Hearing my voice directly behind her, the cinnamon-spiced human whirls around. Brown hair bound in curls contrasts against large sea-green eyes that widen upon sight of me. Emotions spin like a hurricane: disquiet, fear, confusion. It is a peculiar reaction to my angelic face as most of her species fawn over my attractive features.

Tigers have their stripes; my kind has their beauty.

The depth of this human's unspoken expressiveness spurs me forward. I stop when she starts backing away slowly, never averting her gaze to look where she is going.

I flash a brilliant smile that I force to reach my eyes.

Thump.

Her back hits the bookshelf behind her. Tears streak down her face. Her breathing erratic and coming in short gasps. She frantically looks to her left, then to her right. It has been a long time since I have seen this look.

An arctic chill runs down my spine, awakening my nerves. It has been at least a century.

Lud-dub...lud-dub...lud-dub, lud-dub, lud-dub lud-dub lud-dub

The human's heart beats loudly, the space between beats quickening until there is no pause, just a series of beats one right after the other. Her heart is beating so fast I fear it might thump right out of her chest before I have a chance to sink my teeth into it.

This human has definitely come face to face with my kind. From appearances, it was not a pleasant experience. It looks like I am going to have to finish what someone else started, but there is no rule that says I can't have a little fun first.

"Are you all right?" I keep my voice smooth, warm, and inviting as to not cause the trembling human before me more alarm. Her cinnamon blood scorches the rear of my throat, causing my teeth to ache and my mouth to fill with venom.

The female human squeezes her eyes shut as if to will me away with her mind like I am a nightmare she wishes to wake from. She bites her lip in an attempt to cease its quivering. Clear crystals cascade down her rose dusted cheeks. She sucks in an uneasy breath, opens her eyes, and lowers her gaze.

The humans face says it all. Her whole essence plummets into desolation. My six foot three form towers over her, the anticipation of her tantalizing blood in my mouth crafting a deep yearning in the pit of my stomach.

"You're not real." Her voice is strained and meek. She is looking at me as if she is unsure if she should be questioning my existence or her reality altogether.

The beast in me purrs. I can tell the female human is leaning toward the perception her mind has conjured me up. Whoever this poor creature ran into, they did a marvelous job of messing with her, so good she cannot tell if I am here or just some figment of her imagination.

There is but one law my kind is subject to—bite hard. It is forbidden for humans to know we exist. Decades ago, you could play hard and fast with this rule, long as you ended it before too many "other" humans found out. Now, it's a crime punishable by death. Humans are to be deposed of or compelled to forget. There are no gray areas, yet here this human is walking around with the knowledge that our kind exists.

While I hate to interrupt a mutual acquaintance's game, they have presented me with a situation I simply cannot walk away from. I step closer to the human, her body instantly becoming rigid.

"Reality is grounded in the eye of the beholder," I say, playing into her belief that I am only a phantom in her mind.

Never before have I felt so much pressure to embody all that a male of my kind "should": to be assertive, strong, self-assured, relentless in pursuit, and...sensual. I must live up to the vampire who started this. Only I want to do it better.

The human presses firmly into the bookshelf she backed herself against as I trap her by resting my forearm above her head while the rest of my body becomes a cage.

"You seem to think you know me, so tell me, why am I here?" I grab one of the hands resting by her sides. Humans often forget about their extremities in times of trepidation.

The human's focus shifts to the hand I now hold captive. I have her full attention. I raise her hand and press the back of it against the much cooler skin of my cheek.

"You appear to have no fever, yet you look rather ill." The warmth of her flesh is hypnotic. I press my lips firmly to her hand. Afraid if I don't, I'll drain the maddening, intoxicating blood that flows through her veins right here in this bookstore for all to see.

I don't move my stilled mouth until she lifts her gaze past the hand my lips are touching and stares into my ice blue eyes. I begin to trail my lips around the curve of her hand, twisting it until my mouth lands on the underside of her wrist. I lavish an agonizingly slow open-mouthed kiss over the spot where her pulse beats. I get lost in the faint thump-thump beneath my lips, so lost I forget where I am for a moment.

A strange, foreign heat builds in my center. I ignore it, favoring the task at hand as I scrape my teeth ever so gently against the delicate flesh covering the veins in the human's wrist.

How easy it would be to take a bite.

I'm acting like an animal proud of their kill, licking it, claiming it as theirs. However, I haven't killed anything yet.

Drip...Drip...Drip.

My tongue immediately halts its caressing, my nostrils flaring at the smell of fresh blood. I lower my gaze from the human's wrist I brought up to my level. Crimson is trickling from her nose. The scarlet dribble passes over her lips, traveling the curve of her chin before slipping down her neck. Her sea-green eyes enlarge with sheer terror, her legs shaking beneath her, yet she can't look away from me. She is frozen in place, blood streaking down her face as I hold her wrist still in my clutches.

The image of ripping into her springs forth, the dark forces inside me begging for me to unleash them. The hunger running wild in me doesn't care if I have to slaughter every last human in this store if it means I can quench the excruciating thirst this human's blood is causing.

I'm one step away from creating the biggest mistake one of my kind can commit, but damn it I don't think I care. I'll figure out a way to cover up the massacre that is about to happen. I'll torch the place, hunt every last person down and kill them or compel them to forget. I can't deny my nature. For whatever reason, the human is speaking to the beast in me in ways I've never experienced before.

"Sit effundatur sanguis." I swipe my thumb over the human's bottom lip, smearing the blood into the creases of her pink-tinged flesh.

Let the blood flow, indeed.