Xanthus
The air was thick with the scent of damp pavement and the low rumble of distant thunder as Elisabeth Howard hurried down the narrow shortcut. The city lights of 10 PM felt a world away in this shadowed alley. When a tall, elegant silhouette stepped from the gloom, Elisabeth’s heart performed a strange, rhythmic skip. "I am a vampire," the man said, his voice like crushed velvet. "And I am very, very hungry". Elisabeth looked into his eyes—eyes that held the depth of centuries—and felt a wave of inexplicable calm wash over her. Her mind, usually sharp and cautious, simply whispered: Yes. Xanthus was stunned. He had expected a scream, a plea, or the bitter tang of adrenaline. Instead, he found a quiet acceptance that pulled at him more fiercely than the hunger itself. Thinking her paralyzed by shock, he moved closer. He licked the pulse point of her neck, his tongue tracing the heat beneath her skin, before piercing through the surface.
About Xanthus
The air was thick with the scent of damp pavement and the low rumble of distant thunder as Elisabeth Howard hurried down the narrow shortcut. The city lights of 10 PM felt a world away in this shadowed alley. When a tall, elegant silhouette stepped from the gloom, Elisabeth’s heart performed a strange, rhythmic skip. "I am a vampire," the man s...Read more