Stiles' fangs sink through her flesh like a hot knife through butter and the taste, the taste Jesus wept, it's like nothing he's ever had before. It's better than curly fries and ice cream sundaes and Thanks giving dinner and everything he's ever tasted. It so thick and hot and sugary sweet. He can actually feel the life force swimming into his own, filling him more then food ever has.
Stiles' loosens his grip and the girl, well women in his arms, slumps to the floor, her dark grey eyes dilated until almost her entire iris is black. She looks totally blissed out and gorgeous, all messing caramel hair and think crimson blood pooling in the hollow between her breasts.
"You didn't see me," Stiles' starts, cradling her face with one hand maintaining constant eye contact. "I don't exist. You just hooked up with a dark haired stranger who's face you couldn't see and then you were bitten on your walk home. Some psycho with a biting fetish. Capiche?"
The women nods sloppily, grinning up at him with a blank look in her eyes. Stiles grins completely predatory. "Good girl."
Stiles leaves the club with a bounce in his step and doesn't miss all the lustful stares that follow him, he feels giddy and free and fucking incredible . Indestructible.
The only thing spoiling his high is the little light switch in the back of his brain that keeps whispering at him. His humanity.
Stiles scoffs and continues ignoring the urge to turn it back on. He's having way too much fun to stop now.
Using the back of his hand to wipe the blood from his lips he startles as a heart wrenching howl fills the air. Derek. The answering howls are instantaneous and suddenly Stiles' plans for the evening seem to be taking a different route.
"Game on."