A new city. New faces. New smells.

But not new emotions. There was no such thing. I had felt them all.

I should have lost count by now of the thousands of cities and towns I had been to since leaving Maria. I should have lost count of the decades I had wandered, lost and drifting, working menial night jobs just to get by in the human world. However, I had discovered long ago that my mind had room inside it for every thought I had ever had, every memory I had ever made—at least since I had met Maria.

I was so tired of this … life.

I had to admit that it was better than being with Maria. Better than constantly creating newborns, training them for her army, and then dispatching them when she decided they had outlived their usefulness. When their strength began to wane. In those moments before I killed them for her, the moments when they realized what was happening, I had felt their fear, their terror, their rage. Every single one of them.

I had known the fear and panic of hundreds of thousands of humans—both those I had killed, drinking their rich, luscious blood and those I had turned with only a taste before allowing my venom to work its enchantment.

Sometimes those she had selected for me to turn had smelled too good, too tempting. At those times I hadn't been able to stop myself, or hadn't made the effort. I had taken their blood for myself, draining them instead of allowing them the curse of immortality.

And she had punished me at those times. Sometimes not allowing me to hunt until I was nearly crazed with hunger. Other times keeping her body from me, not allowing me the release within her that I craved as much as I hated it.

She was a cruel mistress. I was well rid of her.

But the memories remained. All one hundred thirty years of them.

I walked the dark streets of my new home after midnight. Many would say it was not safe for a lone man to travel these avenues and alleys this late at night. They would be correct, as long as they were not trying to warn me.

It was the daytime that was unsafe for me. I never came out during the day. With my glittering skin and blood red irises, I was far too frightening for the good citizens of this city I had come to. But at night my skin was simply pale like those who didn't worship the sun; my eyes were simply a strange shade of dark.

I had no idea what had pulled me here. I was not usually drawn to large cities. They were too crowded which, if one really thought about it, was rather ironic. It would seem logical that a city filled with millions of people would be the perfect place to execute and hide random murders—for that's what I was, a murderer—with no one the wiser. People in cities died and disappeared every day, mugged or kidnapped, and the causes remained unknown, the suspects hidden in the shadows. My kills would not have added that much to the ridiculously high number of homicides reported in the news each day.

For one such as me, though, with my unique … gift … it was not a good place to be. There were too many emotions floating around me. It was overwhelming, and I couldn't seem to block out any of the feelings that were not originally mine. In fact, my own emotions seemed to have gotten lost in the haze of those around me. That was why I enjoyed the time I spent sequestered in my little loft apartment. I was alone and my neighbors were usually at work, leaving me to my own despondency. But they came back in the evenings to their meals and to their mates. And the barrage of feelings came back with them.

That's when I left, hiding out in the darkened alleyways, waiting for the time when the streets would be nearly deserted. That's when I wandered, walking aimlessly, relishing the semi-solitude but also almost enjoying the occasional glimpse into someone's feelings.

Tonight I had tired of my random drifting, and I was thirsty. It had been over a week since I had given in to the temptation that allowed me to survive, to stay strong. I didn't need a psychic to tell me that tonight would be the night I fed again. And I realized that I wanted more than just blood tonight. So now I was just waiting for the right victim to come along.

I had stopped in the mouth of an alley across from an all-night drugstore, watching the people go in and out, making their purchases and heading to their homes. I had been there at least an hour and was getting ready to move on when she pulled the heavy glass and chrome door open. Her delicious scent lingered long after the door had swung shut behind her, as did the effect of her emotions on me.

The wave of lust that hit me square in the face was so strong I was surprised the patrons in the drugstore weren't staring at her in awe or revulsion. I didn't need to be able to read her mind to know the thoughts she was entertaining.

I watched her through the full-length glass windows as she made her way through the store, picking various items from the shelves, her knee-grazing skirt showing off long, shapely calves and slender ankles. I watched as she completed her purchase and then tucked her prizes into the handbag slung over her shoulder. I watched as she exited the store, pushing hard on the heavy door.

And then I moved.

I followed her, ghosting from alley to alley, my body just a blur that anyone watching would pass off as a trick of the streetlights. She made her way down a block and a half before going into a corner bar, desire still pouring off of her in waves. So I followed her again.

I stepped out of my hiding place and quickly crossed the street, bracing myself for the avalanche of lust that I knew would envelope me as soon as I opened the door. It was accompanied by heavy rock music and the smell of cigarette smoke. It was difficult to differentiate among the layers of lustful passions saturating the crowded bar, but I quickly sifted through the scents swirling around me and found hers. She was mint and wildflowers and almonds.

Squeezing myself into an opening at the bar, I kept an eye on her as I ordered a beer I had no intention of drinking. She brushed her long blonde hair over a slender shoulder and nervously adjusted the left strap of her tank top as she flirted half-heartedly with the man beside her. Her legs crossed and uncrossed restlessly, and her boredom filtered over to me.

I leaned back casually, catching her eye as she shifted once again.

Her breath caught, and her eyes widened. She brought her right hand up to her throat—her pale, perfect throat—as she took a sip of her drink to cover her reaction. I winked at her, causing her to nearly choke.

"Are you okay?" her would-be companion asked, making a motion to try to pat her back.

She waved him off, assuring him that she was fine, but she had spilled some of her drink on her shirt. "I need to find the ladies'," she told him, casting a glance my way and returning my wink.

I waited eight full seconds before following her, leaving my untouched bottle on the shiny bar top. It took longer than I had anticipated to reach the corner with the neon Restrooms sign where she had disappeared because of the crush of bodies in the bar. The door to the ladies' room swung shut just as I rounded the corner, and I could detect more than just her sentiments on the other side of the wooden barrier.

So I waited.

She kept me waiting for at least two minutes. It probably seemed like forever to her, the anticipation almost more than she could bear. To me, it was barely a blink in time. And then there she was, swinging the door open, knowing full well I was waiting for her.

She walked right up to me, a slight smirk pulling her freshly reddened mouth up on one side.

"Alexa," she said by way of greeting, boldly placing a small, slender hand on my bicep.

"Jasper," I responded in kind.

She smiled, at the name or the accent I wasn't sure. Despite more than a century between my birth and now, I still hadn't lost the soft drawl of my Texas origins.

"D'you dance, Jasper?" she asked, practically purring my name.

"With you I will," I answered, placing my hand on the small of her back and guiding her back into the crowd.

I steered her deftly into a tiny empty patch of the dance floor and pulled her into my arms. She shivered a bit as she wrapped her arms over my shoulders and around my neck. The song was a little fast for this kind of dancing, but she made no protest. As we spun slowly, I drank in her scent, drowning my senses in her light fragrance.

"Alexa," I whispered against her ear, and she shivered again. "Let's go somewhere…"

She turned her head to look at me, and I stared back into her pale green eyes. The spot I had chosen was in semi-darkness, not well illuminated by the spots and strobes in the bar, and I knew she wouldn't notice the odd hue of my irises.

She lowered her eyes coyly and murmured her agreement to my proposition. Then she slid her hands down the length of my arms and took my hands in hers.

"Are you hungry?" Alexa asked as we reached the relatively fresh air out on the sidewalk.

"Mm hmm," I murmured against the side of her neck. She had no idea how hungry I was for the thick red substance barely shielded by the soft, pale covering of her neck. I brushed my lips across her skin-once, twice-teasing her and myself. It had taken many, many decades, but I had finally reached the point where I could control my bloodlust, to a point...

She laughed softly, not a little girl's giggle, but a woman's invitation.

"So am I," she admitted, pressing her body against mine, her lips behind my ear. I felt the slightly sticky residue of her lipstick where it clung to my skin. It was an odd feeling, but not entirely unpleasant.

"Where do you-" I started to ask where she wanted to go, but she cut me off breathlessly.

"I live just up the street. My roommate's gone for the weekend," she added, dragging her lips down the column of my throat.

"Let's go," I said, pressing my body briefly into hers, my hands sliding down over the curves of her round bottom. I squeezed once, drawing a gasp from her as she felt my desire, and then released her to wrap one arm around her waist, allowing her to lead me. She mirrored my hold and steered me up the sidewalk toward a nondescript apartment building. I was grateful that she did not live in one of those higher class buildings that boasted a doorman who knew every tenant by name. With her roommate out of town for the weekend, it was unlikely that she would be missed for a couple of days. I felt a little bit guilty knowing that she wouldn't see the sunrise, but as I nuzzled the shell of her ear, I silently vowed that she would enjoy this night as much as I would.

She let us into the building with a little brass key and then up four flights of stairs to her apartment. I barely gave her time to close the door behind us before I pushed her against it, my chest at her back. Her purse dropped from her right hand, and she turned the deadbolt with her left.

I ran my hands firmly down her sides. She moaned softly as my fingers grazed the sides of her breasts, and I felt the vibration of the sound run from my fingers and chest all through my body. I did it again, and the sensation of her reaction—louder this time—focused itself in my groin, making me harder than I already was.

I thrust myself against her at the same time I slid my hands up her arms, pushing them above her head. I grasped both of her wrists in my right hand and slid my left back down, loosening the pressure of my body on hers, just enough to allow my hand to pass down the front of her torso and over her belly and hips to the hem of her skirt. I slid my hand underneath the fabric, dragging it up as my fingers ghosted between her thighs and finally found her panties. They were soaked through with the liquid evidence of her longing. She whimpered as I touched her lightly at first, then with increased pressure. She rubbed herself against my fingers, trapping my hand between her body and the door, and I followed, adding to her pleasure with the double contact, careful not to crush her fragile body.

I moved her hair to one side with my chin and kissed my way back and forth along the back of her neck. Teasing convulsions shook her slender frame, causing her to wriggle against my hand and my groin. I growled and she moaned even louder. I wanted to scrape my teeth across her neck, just below her jaw. Not to free the flow of her blood, but rather for the pleasure it would bring us both. But I couldn't. My teeth were far too sharp, and it wasn't time for that yet. We had only gotten started.

I kissed her softly there, feeling the blood pulse against my lips. She whimpered—my name this time—and tried to tug one wrist free. I slackened my grip just enough to let her left hand loose. She brought it down to the back of my neck, her fingers threading through my hair as she tried to pull my head closer.

Drinking in the emotions swirling all around me, I moved back just enough to slide my left hand back up to cup her breast. Her hips bucked against my erection, and I groaned her name in her ear. A soft gasp escaped her lips as she turned her face toward mine. I allowed my lips to skim across her jaw, and she captured my mouth with her own, sucking my bottom lip into her warm, wet mouth. She tried to turn in my arms to ease the strain on her neck which was twisted as far as it could go, but I wouldn't allow it.

Returning her kiss, I pulled her away from the door, her body held flush against mine by the hand on her breast, fingers carefully pinching her nipple just hard enough to give her a pleasurable sensation. Still holding her wrist, I moved her right hand to her shoulder, threading my fingers in between hers. Then I dragged our clasped hands down over her right breast, just barely grazing her taut nipple with my fingertips; down over her flat stomach, touching a sliver of exposed skin at her midriff; down over her mound, feeling her sensitive flesh through the fabric barrier of her skirt; down over the smooth skin of her thigh, dipping just under the skirt before sliding back up again.

Her head rolled back onto my right shoulder, exposing her delicate throat so fully to me that I had to fight myself to keep from taking the gift she unknowingly offered. It was too soon, and I had a promise to keep.

My hands fell to her hips, and I shoved her lightly away from me. She took advantage of the space between us to turn her body to face mine, and her hands went immediately to the buttons of my shirt. Deftly she slid each one through the buttonholes, spreading my shirt to the sides. Her fingertips ghosted across my chest, and I hummed in pleasure.

"You're so cold," she said, running her fingers up and down, pushing my shirt off my shoulders.

"Poor circulation," I chuckled, using my gift to enhance her natural lust, to distract her from my unnaturally low body temperature.

She slid the garment the rest of the way off, down my arms, onto the floor at our feet.

"You're so beautiful," she breathed, staring at my torso in the weak light spilling in through the curtainless window.

"I could say the same about you," I replied, running my hands lightly over her arms and shoulders and into the soft cascade of her hair. I pulled her toward me, my lips pressing onto hers, then sucking softly.

She moaned again, the sound flowing through me. Her arms wrapped themselves around my neck, her hands fisting my hair in a grip that might have hurt a lesser man. It was barely a tickle to me, but it was delicious all the same.

I kneaded my hands down her back in a firmer touch than I had yet used with her. She seemed to relish the feel of it. My thumbs slipped into the waist of her skirt, and I slid my right hand over to the left side of her skirt, grazing the top of her panties, to where earlier I had felt the zipper at her hip. Grasping the fabric in my right hand, I guided the tiny zipper pull down with my left and then released both, allowing the skirt to join my shirt on the wooden floor. She stepped neatly out of the skirt as I allowed her to push me farther away from the door, farther into her apartment.

Her arms were still around me, and I felt her right foot glide up my calf as she hitched her knee over my hip. I grasped her knee then pulled her other leg up so that she was straddling me, both legs twining behind my back. I felt the moist heat of her through the fabric of my pants and pulled her closer with my hands on her behind. The spiked heels of her shoes dug softly into my bare back.

I walked slowly over to the couch I had seen when we entered, each step creating a delicious friction everywhere we were connected.

"Please," she moaned. I merely kissed her in reply. I knew exactly what she was asking for, but it wasn't time for that either. Not yet.

Sinking onto the plush cushion, I slid her legs off my back, tucking them alongside my thighs. She pressed closer to me as my hands glided up her sides, tugging the stretchy fabric of her tank top along with them and over her head. I ran my hands back down her arms, my thumbs grazing her nipples—once, twice, then again a third time—as she laced her fingers back among the strands of my hair. Although I could have resisted, I allowed her to pull my head down as she leaned back. I captured one puckered nipple between my lips, sucking lightly at first, then harder when she moaned and arched up against me.

Her hands found their way to the straps of her shoes, and she tugged them loose, wiggling her ankles to shake the high heels off. They clattered to the hardwood floor just before I felt her brace herself with her feet on my calves.

I switched to the other breast, sucking her waiting nipple into my mouth, my hands supporting her back. She dragged her nails lightly up my back.

"Harder," I coaxed against her skin, wanting to feel more of her touch.

She repeated the caress, this time with more force, but I could still barely feel it, so I repeated my request. The third time I felt it, still not as strongly as I would have liked, but if she tried any harder, she might have hurt her fingers. And right then it was all about pleasure.

Turning my torso to the left, I laid her down on the couch, her head cushioned by the decorative pillows there. She flexed her fingers, the nails digging a little more roughly in my back as she tried to keep me in full contact with her body. I kissed her full mouth once more as I quickly unbuttoned the fly of my jeans and slid them down my legs, my shoes swiftly joining them on the floor. I was back against her in an instant, my weight pushing her just hard enough into the cushions.

If she was surprised that I wore no undergarments, she didn't show it. Her only acknowledgement of it was a very vocal moan as she felt my hard length rub over her panties, the only scrap of clothing she still wore. Her bare feet dug into the plush as she arched into me. I pushed back once then pulled away to drag my lips down between her breasts and over her belly. As I knelt above her, I slipped her panties down her legs, tearing them at the last because her legs were spread on either side of my hips, and I wasn't letting her move at this point.

My lips continued their journey downward, stopping when they finally reached their goal. The tiny yet ultra-sensitive center of her desire. She bucked against me as I sucked her clit into my mouth, using my tongue and my gift to heighten her pleasure. This time, her moan was almost a scream as the tension that had been building within her finally released. I felt, smelled, tasted her reaction, and I smiled.

Her thighs clamped around my cheeks as I licked her again. At the same time, I slid two fingers into her, feeling the warm wetness clench with the force of her orgasm. Her legs quivered as I drew my fingers out then pushed them back in, again and again.

She cried out once more, panting breathlessly.

"Jasper," she gasped, and my name had never sounded sweeter.

I gathered her up in my arms, my hands gliding up her smooth back, and stood slowly. She clung to me like ivy on the impenetrable wall of my body. I kissed her temple, her cheek, the soft spot in the curve below her jaw. Her breathing, which had just started to calm down, accelerated at that, and I chuckled against her skin.

Although I had never been in Alexa's apartment before, I had been in similar spaces, and it wasn't hard to guess that her bedroom would be at the back of the layout. I made my way farther into her apartment, not needing any light to see by. Even if she noticed, I knew the sensations she was feeling were too insistent to allow her to focus on it. I made sure of that.

When I placed her on the bed and detangled her limbs from around my torso, she whimpered at the loss of contact, even though I knew the room's temperature had to be above my own.

I lay down beside her, giving her a few seconds to catch her breath. Then I lifted one hand, beckoning to her, and she laced her fingers with mine. I tugged just a little, bringing her body across mine. She straddled me once again, rubbing herself against me, spreading her wetness over my length. I cupped my hands around her ribs, just beneath her breasts, my thumbs stroking lightly back and forth. She groaned and ground herself harder on me. Unable to resist any longer, I lifted her up and then lowered her down again, sliding into her.

Her moan got lost somewhere in my growl, and I pulled her down to meet my lips. She sighed into my mouth as she began to move above me. I let her set the pace, thrusting upward to meet her every time she lowered herself back down. She went slowly at first, exhaling each time our bodies met. But then she increased the tempo, her breathing keeping time with her motions, and her breasts swung back and forth above me, begging me to touch them. So I did.

I held them in my palms, allowing her movements to create an erratic friction between us. I could tell that she was close to her release, and I pinched both puckered nipples between my thumbs and forefingers, sending her over the edge, crying out her fulfillment. She collapsed against my chest, panting in the aftermath of her orgasm. I held myself back, not ready to be finished just yet.

I ran my hands over her hair and down her back, stroking softly. When I sensed that she had come back to herself, I rolled over, still inside her, bracing myself above her. She wrapped her legs around my hips, tightening around me, holding me close. I kissed her forehead, her nose, and finally her lips. She clung to my neck, too, her hands in my hair as I began to move within her.

My hips lifted up as I drew myself slowly out, then I pushed just as slowly back into her. Her breathy sounds of encouragement coupled with her passionate response enveloped me in a sensual haze. Almost against my will, I moved faster and faster, pressing her deeper into the thick comforter that covered her bed. She unlocked her legs and planted her feet on either side of my legs, giving herself the needed leverage to meet me thrust for thrust.

I tore my mouth away from hers, allowing her to breathe. "So beautiful," I whispered, turning my head to the side, gritting my teeth, and swallowing the venom that pooled in my mouth. My face was a mere inch away from her shoulder. I could feel her pulse radiating towards me, beckoning me, taunting me.

Her moans of pleasure had faded to pants of exertion, tiny squeals punctuating my more powerful thrusts. I was careful not to push too hard; I didn't want to hurt her.

At least not yet.

I focused all of my senses on Alexa and the emotions pulsing through her, reading her every breath, judging when she would plummet over the edge. And then I buried myself within her one last time, feeling her muscles contract, squeezing around my shaft, pulling my release from me even as she experienced her own.

I let her ride out the waves of bliss. And then, just as her orgasm ended, before she had even begun to come down from it, I licked my way up her neck to the pulse point just below her jaw. She moaned with the pleasure of it, and I sank my razor sharp teeth into the delicate skin I had teased so many times before.

She hissed in pain, but the pleasure coursing through her still, consciously enhanced by my gift, was enough to keep her wrapped in a haze of erotic sensations as I drank hungrily, echoing the way I had pulled another liquid—just as thick, just as hot—from her earlier in our tryst. It was surprisingly difficult to say which was more satisfying.

I pulled out of her then. She moaned deeply; whether from the sensation on her sensitive skin or at the loss of contact I couldn't be certain. As I continued to suck from the wound at her neck, I felt her arms go slack and drop from my back. I sent one last wave of contentment to her, easing her passing as much as I could, relishing every last drop of the gifts she had given me, both willingly and unconsciously.

She was beauty and passion and pleasure.

And she was gone.