For a brief moment, Eric simply stared as the blonde woman hesitated at her open window. Only when she looked back over her shoulder, as if debating on her next move, did he remember himself, and he stepped back into the shadows. She hadn't seen him. Not yet.
It's not often that humans surprised him. After the first few hundred years, it became too easy to guess their next move. And after the next hundred or so, it was almost downright boring. Of course there were a few instances that made him take a second look. Selfless acts. Brave acts. So far and few between. But none had captured his attention. Until this princess in her tower. He couldn't turn his eyes away. And so he watched, enraptured as she swung first one leg out the window, and then the next. She sat there, on the ledge, for only a few seconds. Eric saw her breasts rise as she took a deep breath, bracing herself. He was sure she was going to jump. And he was going to save her. The conviction in his own thoughts startled him. She should be nothing to him. It should not bother him that if she jumped, she would not live. The image of her broken body on the ground should not make his heart twist in his chest. But it did. And he could not allow it. His blue eyes widened as she shifted in her seat, and her hands left the ledge.
The only thing that kept his feet where they were was the determined scowl that rippled across her face in the second that she let go. This was not the face of a woman who was welcoming the end. This was a woman who was in full control. She managed to gracefully, even in her full skirts, climb down the rose and ivy trellis outside her window. The roses framed her climb down, as if acknowledging one of their own. A beautiful backdrop to what he was sure now was an escape. Her feet hit the ground with a soft thump that he was willing to bet only he could hear. And the instant she straightened, a dazzling smile split her lips. The smile of freedom. He allowed himself to feel the pang of guilt for only one moment; he was going to take this life from her. This hard-won freedom. But he comforted himself in the knowledge that he would be giving her so much more. More than any human could ever offer her.
He watched as she took a moment to brush off her crimson gown, but not once did her eyes stray back to the house that she had just escaped. Even from his position in the shadows, he could see how inviting the dwelling looked; the light looked warm as it bathed the lawn through the windows. But the runaway princess only jerked her head up, gathered her many skirts, and fled towards the woods that surrounded the estate. And he followed without question. He could see she was taking the utmost care to be silent; though she was anything but to him. Her footsteps, her quickened breath, even the excited blood rushing through her veins. It was a song he followed as she ran deeper and deeper into the trees. She only slowed when she reached the edge of a clearing. She never stumbled, she just simply stopped running; slowing into a walk until she reached the other side. And then, as if she heard him, which he knew could not be true, she turned, and her eyes met his in the darkness.
He took a slow step forward, fully expecting her to run as he came into full view. And for the second time in a single night, this human surprised him. She didn't turn, she didn't even take a step back. Instead, she held his gaze, and took a step forward. He couldn't help the tug of a smile on his own lips. She wasn't running. She was simply staring, as if studying the deadly man before her. He stood still, an internal battle raging in his eyes. He wanted her to run, to save herself, to see how deadly he truly was. At the same time, he wanted to fall to his knees, and beg her to stay. He watched as the resolve formed in her own ice blue eyes, and she inclined her head, but her gaze never left his. And, as if they were merely two partners on a dance floor, he returned with a bow, and held out his hand to her.
He promised himself that if she fled, he would not give chase. He would let her make the decision, even if she had no idea what it entailed. He wanted, needed her to choose him. To come to him. To be his. But as she reached out her own hand in response, he vaguely recalled he had never been very good at keeping promises. The moment he had seen her, she had been his.
He didn't move as she took a small step forward, his hand still held out in front him. Her pulse was threatening to drive him mad, and it took every fiber of control to keep him still and not reach out and grab her. He heard her quick intake of breath, and nearly sighed in relief himself as a few more quick footsteps brought her right in front of him. His fingers closed around hers the instant she placed her hand in his. His broad hand covered her delicate one completely. He meant to bring her hand to his lips, to see if they were as soft as they looked. But when her lips parted in a sweet sigh, he crashed his to them. He knew that some part of him didn't want her to talk, didn't want to give her the chance to refuse him. She was his. She belonged to him. No one could take this away from him now. He felt her responding in his arms, her tiny hands attempting to hold his face to hers. She was either passionate, desperate, or insane.
His lips kissed a cool trail from her mouth, to her jaw, and down to her neck. Her pulse thrummed against his lips, and his fangs clicked into place. She was so warm in his arms, her body fitting perfectly into his, as if she was made to be protected by him. As if he was made nearly a thousand years in the past, specifically for this woman. His own maker's words floated through his brain:
"You'll know. And nothing will stop you."
The woman's soft moan hitched as her blood flooded his mouth. Sweet, with some exotic flavor twisted within. He continued to pull on the wound, drawing more and more blood into his mouth with each swallow. He could feel her stiffen in his arms, her body beginning to lose its warmth. But still, she did not cry out. She did not beg him to stop. She did not fight. And once again, he found himself wondering if she really was insane.
When he had drunk to the point of no return, he released her from his kiss of death. Her eyes took on a glassy effect, not really following his movements as he slashed his own wrist, and let his blood spill into her mouth. He merely scooped her into his arms when her body gave in. Her eyes were fluttering; heavy with death as they remained trained on his. He smiled his first true smile in years before he brushed his lips against hers once more, tasting their mingled blood. He could see that spark still in her eye; not fear, but excitement of the unknown. He lowered his head to hers, lightly kissing each of her eyelids closed. He knew he had mere seconds, and he knew he could have said more. But his first and final words to her in her human life were quite simple.
"Trust me."
She nodded, and then she died in his arms.