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Wandering

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Jerry's focus had a way of... wandering sometimes. He always kept his eye on his main target, his big game, but he wasn't beyond getting distracted. Often. 400 years of life would get boring otherwise, and if he was honest, he loved being surprised as much as he loved when all went according to plan.

For instance, he'd come to Las Vegas for Peter Vincent. As soon as he'd heard about the cute stage illusion show, with the pyrotechnics, and women in flowy gowns or tight corsets, with silly useless fangs... As soon as he'd made the connection, that Peter was the one he let get away all grown up, he'd packed his possessions and headed for the desert.

Jerry was in it for the long game this time. Not just a quick kill. Play his cards right and he could not only build a new family, but a new empire, here in the heart of hedonism, with Peter Vincent by his side. Or at least... beneath him.

But starting small, and not getting caught, took time. Time enough for those distractions to draw his eye. First a delightfully passionate kid, who hated his own dull, loveless existence. A nerd who inexplicably called himself Evil. That had been fun. Stalking his stalker. But there'd been little challenge in it, ultimately. Ed had given in so simply, so eager to be something Other than himself. Clutching his tiny cross with such conviction. It was cute. That conviction had shattered more easily than the teenager's skin had given beneath his fangs.

Jerry'd almost got distracted from the game of finding and turning Ed when he'd met his new neighbors. Charley, especially. Oh Charley. He’d seen it in him instantly. It was few humans who actually deserved or were even suited to immortality. And still, Jerry killed and turned almost indiscriminately, building his ranks whenever he set up a new home. But every once in a while… there was someone special. Someone he wanted with fierceness, someone who would fight him to the last and make the most delicious victory, and thus an eternal companion. Scattered across the world there were still a handful of these, his vampires. And now he’d found his newest protégé.

And living right next door. What were the chances?

At first he'd mostly dismissed Amy. Gathered what he could from her scent and her demeanor, those barely disguised lust-filled gazes, just enough to unsettle Charley. Pretty, intelligent, possessive, desperate. Vaguely more interesting than your average teenage girl, maybe, but hardly what he'd call remarkable, really.

But he’d realized his mistake the second she'd fired an antique gun full of silver bullets at him. She had more than moxie. She had fire. A survival instinct and a fierce will he just ached to bend to his own. Oh, she'd be real fun.

Now, as he chased them from the penthouse, he knew. Amy wasn't just a means to an end anymore. He wanted her. And when he clung to the ceiling in that club moments later, it was her he sought out. To get to Charley, yes, but also to get her. He didn’t have to kiss her. Didn’t have to give her a taste of his blood. He could have easily subdued her and hauled her out of the hotel. And maybe he was performing a bit for Charley, but he wanted that connection with her. And when she looked at him… even though he knew it was his blood working in her, he thought she might have wanted it too. Amy was a girl who wanted to experience everything. He could give her that.

 

He fucked her while she was still human, pushing inside her while she was warm. Fucking vampires was all well and good; he did it often. And there was a special sort of magic drinking and being drunk from by another of his kind. But nothing was quite like this, sinking into tight, wet, human heat.

He didn't even need to force her. In fact, it was she that grabbed fistfuls of his black shirt, kissed him hard with her eyes open and calculating, even as his slid shut at the taste of her, unmitigated by his blood. Because by the time he'd gotten her back to his place, it’d worn off; she wasn't under his thrall anymore. But Amy was smart and knew that by now she had no more hope of “rescue.” Maybe she was still trying to escape on her own, waiting for the moment that orgasm would make him lethargic (it wouldn't, he wasn't made like humans, not anymore). Or maybe she'd just worked out that pleasing him would only work out in her favor.

Whatever her reasons, she couldn't hide that she wanted this. Oh she hated herself for that, more than a little; he could smell that on her too, and it was… as exquisite as the rest of her. But her body—surging as it was still with teenage hormones, saddled with a boyfriend who hadn't put out yet (Jerry could be quite distracting in his own right), and being offered his body, his cock—was helpless.

She pushed herself back against him when he finally had her on her knees. She groaned with him when he was fully inside. She loved it when he pulled her hair, oh but not too hard, no claws, it wouldn’t do to damage this poor girl before she was fully turned. She came twice as he plowed into her, her arms not even able to support her by the end, screaming loud enough to wake his still sleeping children below. And when he came, stretched full length above her, only just not crushing her, it was with his teeth in her beautiful neck, drinking down her warm, luscious blood, inhaling the last of her human scent.

He lifted her into his arms after and sat her nearly limp form in his lap. “He’s gonna find me,” she said again, but it was barely a whisper.

“Yes,” Jerry told her, soothingly, “he will.” And then he pierced his own jugular with his claw and pressed her mouth to the wound.

His kiss and his bite in the club had started the process of turning Amy; coming inside her shifted it into high gear. Giving her more of his blood wasn’t strictly necessary, and he did need to keep his strength up…. He had a feeling his boys would give him at least a bit of a merry chase before the end. But the blood would make her stronger, and he wanted her as strong as she would be loyal. Not just a minion, Amy would be his princess, high up in his hierarchy of children, third only to the two that she’d help to bring here.

And now, after she’d drunk her fill greedily, moaning so much like she had when he’d fucked her… now there was nothing left to do, but wait.