Jordan Summers - [Dead World 01] (18 page)

I continue to stare, unable to prevent myself as I
listen to her breathy voice, whispering endearments.
They wash over my body, scoring my skin, leaving
wounds of desire behind. How I wish she were speak
ing
to me.

She will.

Soon.

Her breasts jiggle beneath her sweater. The sound of
the material scraping over sensitive flesh whispers
in the air. I close my eyes as my breath catches in my
throat. I
imagine my tongue curling around her ripe
nipples,
teasing her until they engorge with blood, the delicate rosy points stabbing at
my mouth, begging for
my touch. And
my touch only. I can almost taste her.

I open my eyes to gaze upon her loveliness once more,
her beauty nearly blinding me.

She hasn't noticed me yet, but she will.

They all do eventually.

I am remarkable.

She's bending over now, palming the floor. Her lush
ass raises high in the air as she reaches for something she must have dropped.
I lick my lips and feel the flesh between my thighs begin to grow. It's an offer
as old as time.

I recognize and accept it.

It calls to me.

She must feel it, too.

She stands and casually glances
around. The bauble
in her hand flashes
blue in the light. She brings it to her dainty ear. Ah, it must be an earring.
Not that she needs any adornment. Her beauty is pure.

She's perfect.

That's why I've chosen her to be
my
one.

My only.

I know her first name is Moira. Soon I will know her
last. Like a sprite from another world, she flits around the bed, fluffing
pillows, comforting the old woman. Why she spends so much time with the soon to
be dead and recycled, I do not know.

Can't she smell the stench of decay emanating from the
old woman's bones? It nearly chokes me with its putrefaction.

Moira's time would be better spent cradling my body,
satisfying my cock, accepting what I long to give to her. What I will give her.
Soon. I cannot offer immortality, but she can glimpse the future within my
eyes. With her by my side, I can lead my people to their rightful place in
society.

I inhale.

The fresh floral scent of clean
skin as it mixes with
sweet dewy blood
wafts in the air. I know it's Moira. No other could expand my lungs and shaft
in such a way to create this dazzling euphoria.

She glances over her shoulder and smiles at me.
My
what lovely teeth you have.
All the better to bite me with, when I claim
you.

How I long to take her here. Now. But I can't. I must
wait. The sun is still high in the sky. There are preparations to make and I
want to cleanse myself. Like a divine gift from above, the perfect time will
present itself.

It always does.

And I am patient.

I return her smile and wave, before moving on to
find out more information about her. My
excitement
builds. It's always like
this when I meet someone new.
The muscles in my body tense as adrenaline
rushes
through me. My heart beats wildly in
my chest. I have
a skip to my step as I anticipate the upcoming event.

Faces pass before my eyes. I answer their questions
and they answer mine, yet I barely hear their voices as a steady thrum of
soon
fills my head. At least now I have her last name.

Collins.

The rest of my day is a blur as
I gather more information and wait for Moira Collins to leave. She parks
behind the building and drives a beat-up hydrogen
electric hybrid that looks secondhand. Pity for her, but good for me. The
vehicle's condition mixed with the slight modification I decided to provide
makes it so easy to follow her home.

Not that she'll ever get there.

I know she won't care because she'll be with me.

She drives unhurriedly past Nuria. leaving the
lights and safety of the town behind. I shift my
engine
to cruise mode and turn off the lights, so she doesn't see
me—yet. The road meanders for miles ahead of us. No sign of civilization in
either direction. I smile. I can't help it. I'm happy.

I get like that when I'm about to meet the love of my
life.

Moira's car sputters, then jerks, coughing out its
last gasps of life. Perfect timing.

She glances into the darkness, her hands gripping the
wheel. I can't see her expression, but I imagine she is beginning to experience
fear. I don't want her scared, but I suppose it cannot be helped.

I wait for a beat, until she exits the transport, then
I turn on my lights. Relief floods her expression. I stop, leaving the comfort
of my vehicle behind to approach her. She smiles in recognition as I momentar
ily come to her rescue. I love this part the
best, playing
the hero.

"I'm so glad to see you," Moira says.

I wonder how long that glee will
last, but I
still
rel
ish the sentiment. "I'm glad I could be here for
you."

My cock is painfully hard, demanding release. I ignore
my needs for now and pretend to look at the computerized engine in her craft. I
move the cables around for show and furrow my brow. Truth is I already know
what's wrong with it.

The missing chip brushes my
thigh from inside my
pocket. For a
second, I consider putting it back in the car, but I know I won't. It's not in
my nature.

Moira's smile widens encouragingly. The invitation in
her eyes is plan to see.

I accept her enticement.

The smile on her face begins to fade, morphing into
terror before my eyes.

The change has begun.

The muscles in my arms and legs feel as if I'm being
drawn and quartered. Pain splits my skull, but I
refuse to show weakness in front of my lovely Moira.
What kind
of
man
would I be if I couldn't handle a little pain?

She takes a step back and
screams, a second before
looking around
for escape.

But it's too late.

We both know it.

In a moment, I'll be in my
true
form.

Ah, that's better.

The colors of the world take on
deeper intensity. My
senses
explode with awareness. I understand things on
a cellular level. I can smell Moira's fear crisp and intense on the
evening breeze. I cherish the musical rhythm of her heart as it slams against
her ribs while she labors for breath.

I go to speak, to tell her about all the wonderful
sensations, but only a growl comes out. She cowers, clearly missing out on the
beauty of this moment. I take a step forward.

Moira runs.

Why do they all run?

Where she thinks she's going, I do not know.

I watch her sprint to my car, frantically searching
for a way to start it, but the vehicle will not
recognize
her palm print. Nor will it recognize mine. She throws herself
away from the car and races toward a nearby hill.

There are no homes out here. I know this area like the
back of my clawed pad. It's one of my favorite places to run. To chase. To
hunt. To kill.

Doesn't she realize she is the chosen one?

She's
perfect

I walk after her. There is no reason to sprint. She
has nowhere to go. Her screams intensify. The sound
makes my cock pulse and the blood gush through my
veins. The
thrill of the chase begins. I start to lope.

Moira rounds the top of the hill, her muscles
straining under the stress of the climb. Her legs fly out from under her as she
trips and begins to tumble down the other side. The crunch of bones hitting
rocks reaches my ears, along with Moira's cries of pain.

This isn't supposed to happen.

She's ruining my plans.

Moira disappoints me.

I thought she was better than
this. I expected her to
accept her new
position as my mate with grace and beauty. But she's not.

She's like all the others.

Inferior.

Their fear and loathing disgusts me, yet I do not lose
interest in the chase.

I know they see superiority when they look upon me.
Moira is no exception.

How could they not?

I'm perfection incarnate with my fine pelt, taloned
claws, and razor-sharp incisors.

I follow the path Moira took,
only to find her lying in a crumpled pile at the bottom of the hill. For a sec
ond, she looks like discarded rubble. Her twisted leg
points in a strange direction, opposite her body and her eyes are staring
skyward at a blanket full of stars.

Oh lovely Moira, what have you done?

Tsk . . . Tsk ... Tsk.

She whimpers as I come into view.

At least she's still alive. I was about to think this
evening had been a total waste. I crouch down
beside
her and gently stroke her coppery hair with the back of my
talons. I'm sure it's downy soft, but I cannot feel it at present.

Moira's whimpers grow in volume and she struggles to
gain her feet. I press her back down with no effort whatsoever.

We both know what must be done.

Someone must ease her suffering.

Since I'm the only one here, it'll have to be me.

But first, I strip away her clothing, admiring her
breasts, while taking care not to touch her leg. She's trembling now. I'm sure
she's as turned on as I am. I run my taloned pad over her skin, leaving a
crimson trail of blood behind.

I inhale, my nose inches from her quivering flesh. The
sweetness almost sends me over the edge, but I manage to gain control. I must
taste her. I stick out
my tongue and run it
along the oozing path I just cre
ated.

Delicious.

Intoxicating.

Perfect.

I lap her flesh again. The rough pad of my tongue
rasps her skin, widening the wound I inflicted. She bleeds freely for me now. I
try to thank her, but her cries become garbled and my muzzle is wet.

Stay with me, Moira.

I'm not done yet.

My cock has risen higher with my growing need.

I glance down at Moira. Her feminine folds are covered
by matching copper curls. I must taste her there. I lick and nuzzle her,
savoring her essence. She tries to twist away, but I can still feel the hard
nub of her desire.

She wants me.

I knew it.

I yip in excitement, then delve between her thighs
with gusto. Laving and nipping, swirling my tongue inside her body. The
ambrosia drowns me.

I want more.

I need more.

I will have more.

My body shakes as I continue to
taste her lusciousness. It's too much. The sensations. The colors. I can't
hold back and I haven't even
entered her yet. Oh gods, I'm coming now. I rock my hips, trying to milk my re
lease. Inside my mind, I'm
screaming. Outside. I hear
only happy
growls.

Moira isn't crying anymore.

In fact, I haven't felt her move since
we
reached
completion. My hips jerk one last time and I lift my muzzle. It drips with
blood. The coppery elixir splats as it hits a growing pool beneath my chin.

I glance down.

Confused.

Moira's abdomen is missing.

For a second I wonder where it went, then I remember.
I lick my lips. Moira's essence floods my taste buds, yet leaves me longing for
something more. And I think I know what, or more precisely
who.

I picture the black-haired sorceress who's occupied
my fantasies as of late. I've tried to fight our growing attraction, but it's
like attempting to stave off the sun.

Gina.

Can you hear me?

I'm calling to you.

I thought the others were perfect, but now I know the
truth. They pale in comparison.

You
are
the perfect one.

I close my eyes and imagine Gina Santiago before me.
Her long legs bared and her breasts released from their material confines. Her
hair would be loose, so I could run my talons through it. I wouldn't waste my
seed outside of her body.

No, not with my beautiful Gina.

She's special.

I sensed it.

She would carry my seed inside of her womb. Grow ripe
with my spawn, so we could step out of the shadows of hiding and take our
rightful place in society.

I know I can convince her. I can be
very
persuasive.
But first I must complete my task.