“The first bite is as powerful as love,” he whispered. Cold lips brushed mine as his stale breath caressed my neck. In his empty eyes, death lingered.
His chilling arms snaked around my waist, leaching my body’s heat.
I shivered.
The moonlight edged his fangs as he bent to take a bite. I tried not to stare at his bloodless lips as I gently manoeuvred the stake into my hand.
“No, love’s full of warmth and passion,” I said driving the stake upwards.
After I brushed the dust from my clothes, I crossed his name off my list and left.
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