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It was a fine night for a hunt.
Not a hunt, in truth, for there was really no sport in it. The girl was lying in her bed, where she had been on the nights before when he had come in through her window to feast. He’d kept her sound asleep those nights—her body would grow accustomed to the process, even if her mind resisted. He wanted her to feel that, tonight.
Tonight, he would let her wake up.
So, yes. A fine night for a hunt.
The moon shone brightly, three-quarters full, with occasional clouds drifting across the dark sky. He didn’t need the light to see, but the girl did, and he wanted her to see him. Some said the unknown was more terrifying than any known quantity could be, but he didn’t want her afraid of the unknown. He wanted her afraid of him.
And then, he wanted the fear to slowly transform into acceptance.
She would be his. He’d made up his mind about that in his castle, when that stupid boy had gone on and on about her and he’d seen that, through all the infatuated drivel, the boy was describing someone interesting. Or maybe in Whitby, when he’d heard the other girl say her name and realized that this girl coming into a graveyard at night in a vain attempt to rescue a friend was the very same girl he’d taken note of earlier.
Listening to the council had confirmed it. She was brave, she was loyal, she was clever.
All the attributes she’d need to put up a good fight. Which he wanted. A meal that just rolled over and died would keep him fed, but it wasn’t stimulating. And he needed stimulation, to keep from succumbing to ennui over the course of immortality.
He looked forward to watching those attributes turn from working against him to working for him—slowly, painfully (for her—for him, delightfully), but surely.
But first, he would need to bond her to him.
That was what tonight was for.
He paused outside the window in bat form and placed a trance on the boy. He didn’t need any interruptions.
He turned himself to mist and appeared in the girl’s room, then condensed, preparing to wake her if necessary.
She was already awake, staring at him in terror.
Good. From the look on her face and posture of her body, she was probably too paralyzed with fear to draw unwanted attention.
But just in case...
“Silence!” He pointed at the sleeping boy. “If you make a sound I shall take him and dash his brains out before your very eyes.”
No response, which was good. It meant his initial surmise had been correct.
She was afraid, and her fear would be delicious.
He was a bit dismayed that it meant she wouldn’t be able to resist at all, but knowing what he did of her she was more likely to call for help than to fight him directly, and these people knew an annoying amount about how to temporarily thwart him, so it was probably for the best.
All right. To business.