Co-written by Sendintheclowns

Warning- This story is rated M, for erotic content. The story deals with an adult psychic vampire obsessed with a teenage Sam Winchester, and due to the erotic nature of her feedings on a young Sam we felt the need to warn you.

Every Breath You Take – Chapter 4

Sam was sitting on the couch, his right leg crossed under him and his left one stretched out with his heel resting on the coffee table. He knew it was rude to put a foot on the coffee table but his thigh was aching and he knew Dean wouldn't call him on his behavior; Dean wasn't really into social niceties.

It had been a few minutes since Dean had answered the knock at their door and Sam was on the verge of dragging himself up and finding out what was going on when a dark-haired, petite woman poked her head into the living room. It was Heather and she spoke to Sam in that low, sultry voice he had become enamored with yesterday while he'd been in her apartment. "Hi, Sam. It's nice to see you up and around."

Sam could feel the heat suffusing his skin and he knew he was blushing. Until Heather had spoken, Sam had forgotten that he'd been in her apartment when he passed out yesterday. He was embarrassed and looked for a diversion. Craning his neck around, he looked for his brother. "Hi, Heather. Is Dean with you?"

Heather entered the room hesitantly. "Dean is working on some of the units for me. If you feel up to it, could you please help me with some more of my homework? But I understand if you're still under the weather."

Sam couldn't put his finger on the reason why but he had the urge to stand up and bolt; he wasn't comfortable being around Heather.

And he was baffled as to why Dean would pull such a disappearing act, especially since Dean had barely strayed into the next room since he had his little spell yesterday. Their dad had promised Heather that the boys would help her out but it was still strange that Dean hadn't said anything to Sam before he took off.

Mild alarm bells were triggering in the back of his mind so he vowed to remain vigilant when he was around the apartment manager. "I feel fine. I'm sorry about what happened yesterday; I don't really know what happened."

Heather advanced into the room and sat down on the other end of the couch, setting Sam's calculator and textbook along with her oversized purse on the coffee table. Sam slowly pulled his leg down off of its perch on the table in an effort to appear more respectable. Although he wasn't sure how much respectability he could achieve after wilting in her kitchen yesterday.

Looking deep in his eyes, the very attractive, older woman tried to set him at ease. "Oh, please, Sam. Don't give it another moment's thought. Your dad explained that you've been ill recently. I'm just glad you're okay. You really gave me a scare."

The words themselves were solicitous but delivered in that deep, soft drawl, along with the fluttering, long eyelashes, Sam couldn't help but feel that Heather was flirting with him. But he was just a teenager and there was no reason, other than helping her with Algebra, that Heather should be seeking him out. But still, that slight feeling of unease was uncurling in his stomach. The sooner he helped Heather, the sooner she'd leave the apartment. "Let's look at your current assignment. Did you bring it with you?"

Sam turned his head toward Heather when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He was shocked to find her practically sitting in his lap, her body draped against his left side. "What are you…"

Soft fingertips touched his lips, stopping him in his tracks. "Oh baby, just relax. I'm going to take care of you now."

All thought fled Sam's mind as he swayed toward Heather and the air around them shimmered with haze.

-0-

Heather had a hard time not skipping into the living room and latching onto her newest conquest. She peaked around the corner and saw the object of her desire sitting on the couch, large eyes blinking at her. She needed Sam relaxed so she injected concern into her voice. "Hi, Sam. It's nice to see you up and around."

The rest of the conversation between them was a blur to Heather as she shifted into stalking mode. It took all of her strength not to rush the couch and tackle the handsome young man lounging on it. If she listened carefully she could hear the blood singing through his veins and the life force pumping through his body.

Heather was finally able to work herself next to Sam, and she casually draped her body against the surprised Sam. He parted his lips and started to ask her what she was doing. "What are you…"

Reaching our, Heather brushed her fingertips across Sam's soft lips and she smiled in delight as he ceased speaking. Moving forward until her face was inches from Sam's, Heather tested her powers by making her first request of him. "Oh baby, just relax. I'm going to take care of you now."

The air crackled with electricity and Heather noted with satisfaction that her newest toy stopped moving as his limbs quit paying attention to his commands. Sam swayed forward until they were nose to nose, his large hazel eyes dilating in response to her powers.

Heather resisted urge to shout out her happiness; she couldn't have asked for a more responsive, compliant partner. Sam was everything she had ever wanted. And more.

Pushing the relaxed boy back against the arm of the couch, Heather pounced on him, her hands sliding through his silky brown strands. Sam stared at her with dazed eyes, his breathing picking up speed. Heather was certain that he was reacting to both her body and the allure of her power. "You're so perfect. And now you're mine."

Thinking on the possibilities and discarding a repeat of yesterday's session, Heather decided it was time to establish a blood bond. And for that, she wanted Sam to be comfortable. In his current state he was unable to look after his own needs so Heather vowed to be attentive to them; if she took care of Sam, his life force would meet her needs for the foreseeable future. "Sam, honey, show me to your bedroom. Can you do that for me?"

Sam's eyes remained fixed on Heather as he slid out from under her and staggered to his feet. She followed closely behind him as he weaved down a short hallway and pushed into a messy, small room; she wanted to stay close in case her power overcame him again and he passed out again. Sam paused inside of a bedroom and swayed in place. Heather surveyed the two single beds and two dressers and little else save clothes strewn across the floor. She regretted her decision to remain in the Wilson's apartment instead of taking Sam back to her more comfortably appointed place. Shaking her head, Heather determined to make the best of the situation. "Sam, lay down on your bed, on your back."

Sam bypassed the unmade bed and moved to the tidy bed farthest from the door. He dropped heavily onto it before sprawling on his back. Heather perched on the side of the bed and studied the young man before her. There were so many pulse points to choose from but she elected to work with his wrist. It was the least sexual of the contact points and with someone as young as Sam, it seemed the prudent choice. After all, she wasn't a pedophile. But Sam was a spectacular creature and there was no way she could let this opportunity slip through her fingers.

Drawing Sam's left hand into her lap, she studied the contrast between the large palm and long fingers and his delicate wrist. She noted the calloused pads on his fingertips and wondered what activity he participated in that caused the skin to harden that way. If Sam weren't already under her influence, she could have plucked the information easily from his mind but he was already drugged from her nearness and it would be too much work to find the answer.

Heather turned Sam's hand until the pale underside of his wrist was exposed and held it up to her lips. She dipped her tongue out and licked a patch of skin, marveling at its salty taste and sweet texture.

Giving in to the pull to forge the bond, her incisors protracted and she thrust them into the radial artery lying under the skin.

Sucking gently, Heather lapped up precious drops of Sam's blood and shivered in ecstasy. The blood was the essence of a person, twin to their life force, and Heather greedily fed on the sweet taste of the young man sprawled before her. It was the gift her vampire mother had passed on to her.

Glancing toward Sam's face, Heather was shocked to see pale white skin replacing the ruddy sheen; she had sampled the delicious elixir more than was healthy and hastily retracted her incisors, licking a seal over the wound.

Instead of leaving Sam alone to regain his strength, Heather placed her fingertips over the brow Chakra which resided in the middle of the forehead and rubbed in a circular motion. She hummed a melody to herself as bits and pieces of Sam's life force tumbled from the seat of Sam's psychic faculties into her own starved body. She sighed with contentment. The blood fed one part of her appetite but the life force sustained her. Although she was part succubus, she preferred the untainted power of a psychic while eschewing the dirty, sexual energy her papa professed to be the ultimate in feeding frenzies. She considered herself a purist although it had widened the rift between father and daughter.

Firmly pushing aside thoughts of her family, she concentrated on the energy buzzing under her fingers. Her contentment was interrupted as the forehead under her hand twitched and frowned as Sam shuddered. Heather hastily withdrew her hand from the young man's skin. If she continued to feed she risked moving past the point of no return and after Tom she had vowed never to suck another person's life force dry.

Not to mention that Sam was the perfect partner. Heather was never more content than after a feeding and a psychic of Sam's strength, untapped though that ability may be, had left her reeling with pleasure.

There was no mistaking that Sam was a special catch. Heather felt as though she'd waited her whole life for him to come along.

Heather looked at the watch on her wrist and gasped as she realized she'd been with Sam for over an hour. She'd totally lost track of time as she reveled in the feeding process.

Pulling shaky hands through her disheveled hair, Heather attempted to restore order to her mussed appearance.

Before leaving the room she summoned her energy and traced a finger lightly over the puncture wounds on Sam's wrist. The red marks were no longer noticeable as bite marks but a rash-like pattern appeared in its place. Heather lovingly placed the lax wrist on Sam's stomach.

Heather brought a fist to her mouth like a giddy teenage girl after her first kiss. She managed one last glance at the resting psychic stretched on top of the bed before she fled the bedroom. She couldn't risk being caught here but it took every ounce of willpower she had to leave Sam's presence.

-0-

John had spent an unproductive day at the library, trying to seek out non-existent information on the hunt he hoped to launch within a week. He wished Sam were feeling better because he could have used his son's help; no one excelled at research like Sam did. The boy had an uncanny knack for zeroing in on obscure information. Not that John had ever told his son that before – he didn't want Sam's ego to get out of hand.

Inserting the key in the lock, John entered their new apartment. He dropped his bag on the kitchen counter and moved through to the living room, certain to find his boys loafing. After all, he'd ordered Sam to take it easy and instructed Dean to keep an eye on him.

Instead of Sam and Dean, John found the very attractive apartment manager sitting on his couch, homework spread on the table before her. "Heather, I didn't expect to find you here. Where are the boys?"

Heather stood up from the couch. "I asked Dean to run some errands for me. I hope that's okay. And Sam was helping me with my Algebra."

John had told the boys to help Heather out and was pleased that they were lending a hand without his having to twist their arms. But he was mildly concerned that Dean wasn't watching over Sam. Speaking of which, he wanted to know where his youngest son was right now. He intended to keep a close eye on him. Especially in light of his fainting spell yesterday. "Of course that's fine. But where's Sam?"

Heather pointed toward the hall. "Sam helped me with some of the problems and then I talked him into lying down for a while. The poor dear couldn't keep his eyes open."

Without a word to Heather, John bolted down the hallway into Sam's room; it usually took threats and coercion to get Sam to rest during the middle of the day so if his youngest had agreed, John knew without a doubt that he wasn't well.

Sam was stretched out on top of the covers, his left arm wrapped protectively over his stomach. The fact that his son was lying on his back lent credence to the argument that Sam was ill; his son was a staunch stomach sleeper and only when sick or injured could he fall asleep on his back.

Speaking gently, John tried to wake Sam. "Sam, son, it's time to wake up."

When his son didn't react, John reached out and cradled the side of Sam's face with the palm of his hand. It was cold to the touch, not warm with fever like he'd expected. John brushed too long bangs from Sam's forehead and was dismayed when Sam didn't react. "Sam, you're starting to worry me. I need you to wake up for me."

John pitched the last sentence in a low growl to mimic an order. He was heartened as Sam's lashes fluttered and lifted to reveal confused, hazel eyes. At least Sam wasn't so sick he couldn't respond to his father's voice. "Dad?"

Seeing the distress on his son's face, John's heart clenched. Sam looked exhausted, faint purple marring the skin under his eyes. Maybe they'd rushed Sam's recovery along too quickly. If Sam didn't start acting more like himself soon, John would have to find a doctor in the area. "It's okay, Sam. Why don't you go back to sleep. I'll let you know when it's dinner time."

Sam's eyes closed without protest and his breathing quickly deepened. "Is Sam okay?"

John was startled by Heather's voice. He moved away from his sleeping son and closed the bedroom door before stepping out into the hallway where the apartment manager lurked. John didn't appreciate someone sneaking up on him and he didn't like having a stranger in their apartment while Sam was sick. Nevertheless his voice was more brusk then he intended. "Sam's fine."

The petite woman appeared stricken before him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to intrude. It's just that Sam has been so helpful with my studies, and he's just the sweetest thing."

John wasn't gullible when it came to a pretty face but when Heather reached out and touched his arm it struck a chord deep within him. Here was a woman who actually seemed to care for his child and he silently acknowledged that she'd been nothing but helpful since he'd met her. "I'm a little worried about him but I'm sure he'll be back to full strength in no time at all."

Heather gathered up her textbook and purse and moved toward the door. "I won't intrude any longer. But please, let me know if there's anything I can do to help. I'm really grateful for the help you and your sons have given me. I feel blessed that you moved in to this building."

Shaking his head, John smiled at Heather. They were the ones who were lucky – affordable, decent housing managed by a compassionate woman. "I want to thank you for taking such good care of Sam. And you're welcome here any time."

John didn't think anything of the radiant smile Heather bestowed on him before she exited the apartment. His mind had already turned to the problems with the upcoming hunt along with such mundane tasks as what to make for dinner.

A/N: We would like to thank everyone who is reading, put us on their alerts and especially those who have taken time to review. Your kind reviews have made posting this story such a fun experience. We couldn't have done this without the help of our wonderful beta, Floralia. We hope to have more up in a couple of days.