Why call it murder?
It was a dreadful word for a benign act. Charles was as benign as they came. He drank enough to sustain him. And he only drank what he purchased. There was no reason to put labels on his eating habits.
Sometimes he wanted something fresher, so he caught a hare or a mouse.
Other times, he wanted a little treat. A drink more rich than what a forest creature could give him.
Humans drank wine. Why shouldn't he indulge?
It was a cool September afternoon when Charles entered 'Priya's Spice Shop' in the tightest corner of Knockturn Alley. There among the comfort of the spices and the classical violin, he would smell his morsel, his delight. And with the added benefit of a scent palette to compliment...it was the most charming of location.
He had dressed in his finest robes and pressed his trousers for the occasion. On his neck, he wore a tasteful little scarf and added a persimmon broach to his lapel. And off he went, whistling as he walked, to Priya's.
That's where he met her, the exotic B positive who smelled of lamb curry and jasmine. He caught of whiff of her perusing the canned good isle and followed her down the imported Tamil greeting cards section.
He got the nerve to speak to her as she was picking up a souvenir elephant of jade.
"What a lovely gift," he said, caressing a statuette in his pale hand. "Is it for someone of importance?"
"Uh, no. Not really. Just looking." She stepped back.
"I have a friend who is...having a birthday," he began. "And I was hoping to pick out a present to remind him of home. I'm sorry if I have the wrong impression."
The girl's gaze searched him. "What sorts of things is he into?"
"Travel. Mostly, new experiences. He's always been captivated by Mumbai."
"I have family there," she said, coming closer. "He might like this." She picked up an ornament with an adorned palm. "It is a symbol of luck where I'm from. If not, he might like some candies-"
"-Candies. Oh he does have a sweet tooth."
They were in the sweets isle, looking at the colorful foil bags, when he caught of whiff of her shampoo. Delightfully sweet and the pungent smell of her sweat. It taunted him.
"He might like this," she might have said, had Charles not been calculating the time his fangs needed to sink into her neck.
"He likes a salty treat too."
The girl laughed. "Your friend is...very peculiar. We in India like our sweets."
"My friend needs to adjust his tastes then," Charles said, looming over her. "He might find that sweetness is the way to go."
The girl's eyes widened. "Err, yeah. You're right."
"What is your name?"
"Parvati."
"Parvati," Charles said and bowed. "Thank you for your invaluable advice."
She smiled. "I hope your friend like the present. Let me know!"
Oh, Charles would. Not even an hour later when his fangs are so deep into Parvati's neck he could feel her heartbeat pulsing against his tongue. So sweet, so luscious, so warm. A true delightful morsel that made his entire body twitch in pleasure. Perhaps he should come shopping here more often, he decided with a smile.
A/N: Bon Appetit! Yum!