Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.
This story has been adopted. The original was written and discontinues by Amiiix3. I was graciously given permission to continue the story as I saw fit. Thank you Amiiix3 for your trust.
The sun dipped below the horizon, its final rays melting into the mixed hues of pink and blue clouding the sky.
I stepped out from my shadowy alcove; first one pale, curving leg, a black heel making a tiny click on the cracked pavement. Then came my body, scantily clad and statuesque. I stood for a moment; sharp, burgundy eyes hidden beneath long, black lashes scanned the narrow street.
Two broken footpaths took over nearly half the street and left only a thin road, barely fit for a single car, let alone two-lane traffic. There were no cars, though, only suited business men making their quick way back home.
I pushed further into the street, on the edge of the sidewalk, and lifted my petite nose in the air. A torrent of delicious aromas wafted through the air; lilacs, roses, petunias, daisies, lilies, sunflowers. It was ambrosia. I licked my lips, eagerly anticipating another feast in the cover of a New York night.
A few feet to my left, I heard a sigh. A man sat on a waiting bench, unaware of my predatory gaze, hungry eyes and thirsty lips. His hands cupped his face, young and overworked, while he watched the street for another taxi.
I moved swiftly, sitting beside him and crossing my legs before he could even look up. His eyes widened as soon as he took in my figure- long, curvaceous, and bare. The exhaustion leaked from his face and longing took its place. He leaned closer, unaware of doing so, and breathed in deeply, taking in the exotic fragrance of my venom.
My mouth watered. I inclined my head to him as well, my mouth at the level of the base of his throat. My lips pressed against his skin, eliciting a breathy moan from him at my icy touch. I let my tongue slip out, tasting the warm skin, feeling his pulse thrumming beneath the paper thin skin.
He was mine.
Moments later we were in an alley, me drinking from him until he went limp. His blood was lukewarm when I saw the taxi pull up from the corner of my eye. I held his limp body as I finished feeding.
The last few ounces of his blood flowed through my lips, disappearing down my ravenous throat. I pulled away from him, running a tongue over my lips; they were thickly coated in the blood.
I stared at the man, collapsed, his breath stolen by none other than myself.
Without warning, something brushed my shoulder. I turned quickly, but only caught a glimpse of a white blur disappearing around the corner.
I knew what it was; another vampire. In my deep thirst, I had not taken the time to sense for others in the area. There was another, though, despite my ignorance.
I tossed the man in a large, green dumpster, feeling my heart squeeze with guilt, and ran around the corner into the street in search of the vampire.
It had been almost a decade since I had seen another vampire, and there was a tug towards another of my kind; I could not let the opportunity pass me again.
I followed slowly, pausing many times to thrust my nose in the air and split the luscious scents of humans from my own kind.
The scent was thin, the vampire moving quickly. I wondered briefly if they were running from me, but shook the thought from my mind.
It took only an hour, but to me it felt as if it was forever. To think there were so little vampires in New York and I could hardly follow the one trail. It made me start to doubt my tracking abilities.
He stood shadowed in another dark alley- a favorite place for our kind. I saw only his silhouette, half hidden behind a pile of discarded boxes. It seemed he was waiting for me, as if it was a game, but as I neared him,
my steps slow and cautious, he crouched.
He was facing away from me, his back curved as if to pounce, legs buckled, body coiled. I realized he was hunting, and turned to leave, afraid he might think I was challenging him for his meal.
Turning, I caught sight of something even more strange. To his right, cowering behind the shadow of a tower of pungent trash bags, was a small girl. She was thin and frail, face hidden behind stick-like wrists.
I could hear her sobbing, while she watched, almost unwillingly, as the vampire pounced on the man.
My own eyes were glued to his form as he bit into the man's neck and drained him in a single second. He pulled back, eyes wide as he stared at the crumpled man. The vampire stumbled back a few steps, still watching the ruthless rapist lying in his own blood, neck twisted at an awkward angle, as if he could not believe he had drank him.
He turned to the girl and said something I would never forget:
"Go. Leave. You're safe." He waved a gory hand at her, blood dripping off his fingertips.
The girl was frozen, her eyes wide and unblinking. Frightened whimpers tumbled from her lips and in a flash she was unstuck and running, skidding, stumbling, out the alley and around the corner.
The girl did not see me, but the vampire did.
He turned and stared. His eyes were shadowed by his messy, bronze locks at first, but then they snapped up and his brow furrowed. His hands clenched, his mouth twisted, and frustration filled his bloodred eyes.