one might taste if they were to bite their tongue or cut a finger then
suck it to ease the pain). The tang of his blood was something else
entirely: both bitter and sweet, hot and cold, compelling and repulsive
at the same time. It burned the throat and made my head swim. It
was like molten silver and ice crystals trailing down my throat at the
same moment.
He pulled his wrist from my lips, wrapping his fingers
around the wound he had created. He seemed to concentrate briefly
then released it, leaving the skin flawless. He leaned forward, placing
his lips against my ear.
“You have been one of my more interesting conquests.” He
laughed coldly into my ear as I lay there, motionless, unable to move.
“I expect great things from you. If, you can rise above this, my…” he
paused and smiled evilly, “…little ingénue” He then stood and
stared down upon me.
“Go to hell.” I whispered, my voice almost nonexistent. He
just smiled down at me with those chaotic eyes.
I stared up at him intensely, burning his features into my
mind’s eye. My treacherous body unable to move, I used the only tool
left to me that would one day allow me to exact my revenge. I
memorized every detail his physique had to offer: those dark eyes like
storm tossed oceans; his long flowing black hair, dark as a rook’s
wing. The shaded ruby of his lips, which seemed to be the only color
his face held; even the mole just to the left of his mouth, like a
diminutive diamond. I took in every feature of his face against the full
moon, swearing to myself if I lived through that night, I would never
forget. I would remember, and one day, I would find him.
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