2. Silas

There'sa time and a place to fantasize about the smell of a pretty human as she gets herself off. To think about the sounds she made, grinding her hips against the bed because she's so desperate to be fucked. To imagine all the ways you'd make her scream, and wondering how her pussy tastes.

Sitting in a meeting with your superiors while they discuss your promotion definitely isn't it.

And yet this morning, while everyone around me discusses accommodations and protocol and all the benefits I was now entitled to, all I can think about is the pretty blonde and the intoxicating scent of her orgasm. I don't even know her name. It shouldn't even matter. But I've never been the type to just let something go.

This promotion was incredibly welcome. Two years on gate duty had been mind-numbingly boring, but it was better than sitting up in a factory in Boston producing electronics and weapons. So I'd taken it. Rural Georgia was still much as it was before the world went to hell, and I enjoyed the fresh air and the countryside.

Then the higher-ups finally realized that I was equipped with a set of skills that they could use to increase their security systems. Off gate duty, out of the cramped guard compound where I lived with the other grunts, and into officer's quarters of the Milledgeville Human Preservation Complex. The guards were kept separate from the humans, but the officer's cabins were in the human compound. Of course I knew I'd be in contact with humans again. It didn't really bother me.

I just didn't expect the prettiest human I've seen in my life to cross my path.

Being in a relationship with humans is against the rules now. Against the rules. That makes it sound so benign. Whenever it's spoken about, it's against the rules. It's punishable by something worse than death. Humans are our commodity, our livestock, a precious asset we have to keep secure. Fraternising with them, much less biting and fucking them, is strictly forbidden.

It wasn't always that way.

Before all this started, when the world had just found out about our existence, even I'd tried having a relationship with a human. Back when I'd been determined to hold on to the last shred of my humanity. But a new vamp and a human turned out to be a deadly combination. Realizing you've killed someone while you're coming inside them isn't a feeling I'm anxious to experience again.

And yet, right now, sitting in with my new bosses and other newly promoted vamps, I'm staring at my hands in my lap, imagining fucking her with my fingers, feeling that pussy contract on my hand as I make her come. I imagine tracing pictures on her body, connecting all those heavenly freckles on her skin into myriad shapes as her skin cools after countless orgasms.

Hardly ideal.

I shift in my chair, crossing my legs to hide the very obvious bulge in my trousers, and cross my arms over my chest. I set my face in a frown, nodding so as to appear attentive as I gaze around the room. Sure, I'm definitely listening.

Yes, absolutely the budgets will need addressing.

The food rations for the humans absolutely need adjusting as winter approaches.

I wonder what her blood tastes like.

I exhale heavily, clenching my molars, and my boss, a silver-haired vamp named Anderson, regards me with raised eyebrows.

"Not boring you, are we, King?" He's stern but not unfriendly, giving off an air almost of an english teacher who likes to give you a talking-to over glasses perched on his nose. "Got somewhere better to be?"

I shake my head quickly, pasting a smile on my face. "Sorry, no, not at all. It's just rather hot today, isn't it? There was some talk of the new air conditioning units being installed in the dorms, is that still happening?"

The other vamp looks down at the paperwork in front of him - his name is Peters, I think - and clears his throat. "They'd mentioned it to me but I think Boston was still waiting on parts."

"Ah, right then." I smile amicably, wishing the talk of air conditioning would calm my fucking raging erection.

It's not.

Instead, I run over the layout of the compound to try and distract myself. Four dorms, containing 40 humans in each. A shower block. Library. Cafeteria. Clinic. Garden. Rec Room and gym. Officer's cabins.

OK, that helped. Marginally.

Peters leans back in his chair and looks at me thoughtfully over caged hands. "Sorry to get off topic here for a second, but I've always wondered how you ended up here?"

"I applied for the transfer from Boston."

He laughs lightly, waving his hand. "No, I mean how did you end up here?" He gestures to the ground beneath us. "The states. Your maker, I mean she was legendary, why aren't you kicking it with the elites back in Boston?"

I shift in my seat. "Her assets were seized. For the cause, you see." The cause.Those words have the others nodding, looks of understanding being passed around the room. Plenty of well-off vampire families had their assets seized by the most powerful vampire covens, in the name of the cause - eradicating the Afflicted. There's no doubt in my mind some of the vamps sitting with me now come from wealthy families, now demoted to servants, all in the name of the cause.

Ironic, considering vampires are the cause of all this in the first place.

But the mention of my maker drives a cold stake straight through my stomach. I don't want to think about all that, clasping my hands together under the table until my fingers go numb. It's been four years, but the pain still lingers, aching like a long-healed broken limb.

The vamps have started talking again, discussing all the research coming out of Boston, all the advances they've made in the labs. I can't bring myself to care, not in the midst of this swirl of emotions. Everything else fades away and becomes insignificant.

I'll bet she's so incredibly soft when she's asleep.The intrusive thought roars through my brain, and instantly the swirl of emotions centers until all I can think about is the head of blonde hair and the scent of her skin. The first time I saw her, the way my stomach dropped, and the ache of my lungs emptying of air I don't even need to breathe anymore. Imagining her pouty lips against mine, the delicate brush of her tongue as she opens up for me.

Everyone turns to look at me as one, several sets of confused eyes staring at me, because like a true fucking psycho I've pounded my fist against the table.

"You OK?" Anderson asks.

"Yeah. Sorry, uh…" I get to my feet, running a hand over my head. "I think I have duty now, I should go."

"Oh, of course." Anderson dismisses me with a nod and looks back down at the papers in front of him. "I think we've got everything all cleared and ready anyhow. You go on."

I head out of the office that suddenly feels tiny and cramped, out into the warm afternoon. For a moment, everything feels tight and wrong, like there's a noose around my neck. With a sick lurch of my stomach, I run my hands up and down my arms, trying to scrub away the feeling of track marks. They're gone, long fucking gone. Healed up along with every other scar on my body, every trace of my previous life. The life I was saved from.

But that doesn't stop that old feeling crashing back down when I realize I'm in the midst of a new addiction. I'm reformed, not recovered.

I lied, I'm not on shift at all, I just needed to get the fuck out of there.

I consider heading to the gym, but then I catch a scent on the breeze, sweet and fresh, and I know she's close by. I follow it, rounding a corner and heading down the path to the gardens.

The sun glints gold, and it catches the blonde head of hair currently bent over a garden bed. I lean against a tree, half-hiding myself as I watch her. Her hair is loose, and with a flick of her arm she swoops it over her shoulder, revealing her throat. She rubs the back of her hand over her top lip, dashing away sweat, and her eyebrows knit together in a sweet little frown as she concentrates on what she's doing. After a few minutes, she rolls back on her haunches, tipping her head back, eyes closed, and exhales through pursed lips. She's just fucking gardening, and I'm rock-hard again, imagining her on top of me, riding me, her head tipped back just like it is now as my hand runs down her chest.

Get out of here. My reason tries to make me see sense. I should leave.

Instead I move closer, watching from the long shadows being cast by the late afternoon sun. My senses are in overdrive as the breeze carries her scent to me, I can practically feel every drop of her sweat on my tongue.

As though she can sense she's being watched, her head jerks to look over her shoulder. Her eyes don't quite find my place in the shadows as they scan the yard. She rises to her feet, her movements lithe and easy. Her gaze almost finds me, and I simply stare at her.

Fuck, you're beautiful.

You're perfect.

I need to know what you taste like.

I almost will her to find me, to move closer so she sees me.

Instead she drops back to her knees and continues with her work. I watch until the guards tell the humans to stop and come in to clean up for dinner. I watch as she cleans her hands and runs them through her hair that's so long it hangs to her hips. She braces her hands against her waist and stretches her back.

She goes through all the motions of her evening routine, unaware that I'm lingering close enough to continue smelling that delicious scent. A few times she casts a glance around her, and my heart does a leap every single time.

She can feel me.

My reason is losing.

That night it loses again, as it screams at me not to make the same mistake I made last night. It tells me to go back to my bed as I walk to her dorm. It tells me to take my hand off the door handle. This isn't helping. I should keep my distance. I should stay away. Go back to bed. I ignore it, hearing it fade into the background with every step towards her.

I find myself standing over her, watching her sleep, her breasts rising and falling as she breathes, her eyelashes fluttering as she dreams. I know touching her is a step too far. I reach out and yank my hand back three times. I risk waking her, and her screams letting everyone from the bloodbags to the other vamps know exactly what I'm doing. And try explaining that.

But then she rolls on to her stomach, taking the sheet with her, exposing her long legs, and a small, pert ass barely covered by white panties. I grit my teeth. I can't resist. She smells so fucking sweet. I reach out and brush the back of my index finger down her calf. Lightly, so she doesn't feel it. But enough for her heat to be blazing through my body. I suck in a shuddering breath, pulling my hand back before I go too far.

You shouldn't have done that. My reason whispers hopelessly in my ear.

No I shouldn't have.

But it's too late now.