Before I left New York, I stopped outside Royce's house and just lingered for a moment. I could smell the alcohol and the cigars – a scent I had once loved, but that my vampire senses found irritating – from outside. He seemed to be pacing, muttering to himself. I didn't linger long enough to figure out what it was about. Maybe he was grieving his friends? I was sure he'd heard about at least Michael by now.

I could have run to Atlanta, Georgia in about a day, give or take a couple of hours.

Instead I chose to take my time, hunting as I went along. I wanted to make sure I was completely sated before I killed the next one, John, so I wouldn't be tempted to drink his blood as I had with the others.

John was the attacker I remembered the most. The drunken smugness as he told Royce that he couldn't tell what I looked like with my clothes on. His barking laugh, a bit harsher than the rest, as the metal buttons on my coat clinked to the ground. The grunts he made as he pinned me to the ground, already beaten and bloody, and had his way with me anyways.

The world would be much better off without such a man in it.

It didn't take me long to find his house. The local library had a public directory, and I was able to recall his full name, so it only took a quick search to find his estate. It was huge, as expected. Thick, lush orchards lined the long drive up to a beautiful Tudor house.

I crept into his house one night, silently making my way through it. From what I gathered, he had a wife and two children. To my surprise, the wife looked shockingly similar to me. She had the same almost silvery, blonde hair, the same frame. Clearly John had a type.

Not anymore.

I did feel a pang of sorrow for his wife and children for a brief moment. The wife had everything I had wanted in my human life – a husband, two adorable children to care for. And I would be taking that away from her.

Then I remembered my attack, and the feeling vanished. She would inherit his apparently super wealthy estate, and find another – hopefully better – man to marry the second time around. Her children wouldn't have to grow up with a monster who preyed on vulnerable women for a father. Fortunately, the wife and children seemed to be away, so they wouldn't have to witness John's untimely demise. I hoped his body would be found before they came back – a badly decomposed body was not a pretty sight.

My similarities to John's wife gave me an idea. Careful not to disturb him, I opened their closet and pulled out a nightgown that belonged to his wife. Once that was on, I slipped into their bed without making a sound. I laid there, still as could be, listening to him snore and mutter in his sleep. His rest seemed fitful – he tossed and turned lots, and broke out into a sweat.

Once he started to stir, I rolled over so my back was facing him. I heard him shuffle, rub his eyes, stretch, before he noticed me. "Marie? You're back early! You should have woken me last night!" He stretched over me, planting a kiss on my cheek.

That's when I opened my eyes.

He jumped out of bed, obviously alarmed. "Wh – what the hell?" He yelled, shocked. I stayed put, staring at him with a feral grin on my face. "What did you do with Marie?"

I laughed at the terror in his eyes. "Marie is fine. She never came home. Remember me, Johnnie? Of course you do – I was Royce's little 'Georgia peach', as you called me. God, you really are a sucker for the blondes, aren't you?"

"You really should have made sure I was dead before you left me in the street," I continued, jumping on his back much as I had Michaels. He flailed around, trying to fling me off with no success. He tried to fling me on the bed, which just put me in a better position to strangle him. I rested my back against the headboard, straddling him between my legs, and clamped my hands around his mouth and nose so he couldn't breathe. Not the quickest way to kill someone, but it left little evidence. And it's not like I was in any big rush – I had all the time in the world.

Once he stopped struggling, and his heartbeat got quieter and eventually faded away, I got up and placed him back on the bed in the position he'd been sleeping in. It would again look like natural causes. He was a little blue, but I wasn't concerned – there was no way he'd be traced back to me.

I changed back into my clothes, hung up Marie's nightgown back in its place, and made sure nothing looked disturbed when I left. It had sounded like he'd expected her back soon, so I wasted no time in getting out of there and going for another hunt.

After the burning in my throat had subsided, I turned north and got on my way.

I had one last trip back to New York to make, and I couldn't wait.