CHAPTER FOUR

I paused, grappling with the ineffable. "Her scent, Lucian...it's unlike anything I've ever encountered. I've existed for centuries, smelled innumerable auras, followed the exhilarating trails of humanity, but hers...it's potent. Intoxicating. And her soul...it's the purest I've ever seen."

Lucian's countenance shifted from concern to skepticism. He was aware of my...gift, for lack of a better term. The ability to discern the taint, or lack thereof, adhering to a person's soul. It wasn't a talent many vampires possessed, and it rarely came into play, mostly because it was a disheartening reminder of the inherent darkness of humanity.

He began to object, his lips shaping the initial syllables of a reprimand, but then he stopped. He saw it in my eyes, the unwavering conviction. He knew me too well. Lucian knew I was not easily swayed, and when I fixated on something, dissuading me was a futile endeavor.

He sighed, the fight leaving him. "Fine," he conceded, a weariness in his voice. "So, what will sate this...craving? Beyond this Eleanor, what do you need to sustain yourself? Any particularly ripe, evil souls prowling this den of iniquity?"

I reclined in the booth, closing my eyes. I focused, extending my senses, sifting through the miasma of emotions and darkness swirling around us. There was the sharp tang of a bully, boasting about his latest conquest, financial and otherwise. Then, the bitter taste of a man embezzling funds from his firm, the metallic tinge of guilt coating him. A woman, reeking of infidelity, the sharp, acrid smell of betrayal clinging to her.

No. Not right. None of them were enough. Maybe all three combined, a tasteless cocktail of minor sins, would offer a moment's reprieve, but I yearned for something...more. I needed a deeper, darker shade.

Then it struck me. A suffocating wave of putridity, thick and nauseating. It was emanating from the entrance.

A couple had just entered the nightclub, already radiating the sour smell of pre-partying, a concoction of cheap liquor and synthetic happiness. But it wasn't the drugs that appealed to me. It was beneath, barely concealed by the perfume and cologne. A festering core of cruelty.

They were abusive. Not in some subtle, nuanced way. The air around them vibrated with neglect and violence. They had children, I could taste it in the air, the stale scent of their suffering. And this particular couple reveled in it, basking in the power they held. The one thing I despised most, the one thing that truly ignited a cold fury within me, were those who preyed on the innocent, especially children.

I opened my eyes and fixed Lucian with a searing gaze. "There," I said, the word a low growl.

Lucian followed my line of sight, his eyes narrowing in understanding. He beckoned to a woman lounging nearby, draped in velvet and barely-there lace. He whispered in her ear, his voice low and commanding, while pointing discreetly at the couple.

"Fetch," was all he said.

I watched, a grim satisfaction settling in my chest, as the woman in lace worked her magic. She was good, practiced. Years spent navigating the underbelly of this city had honed her skills, turning her into a master manipulator. I could almost taste the couple's desperation, their craving for the next high, the next thrill. It was pitiful, repugnant, and exactly what I needed.

They moved like puppets on strings, their eyes glazed over, following her every suggestion. The girlfriend, all cheap glitter and forced smiles, clung to her boyfriend's arm, her pupils dilated, already lost in the promise of oblivion. The boyfriend, reeking of misplaced confidence and toxic masculinity, puffed out his chest, eager to play the big shot. He probably thought he was in control, the alpha male leading his pack. He couldn't be more wrong. It was the scent of his cruelty, the way it permeated his being, that drew me in. He was a predator, and tonight, he would become the prey.

As they followed the woman back towards us, I felt a surge of anticipation, a cold hunger gnawing at my insides. It wasn't just the need for sustenance; it was something deeper, more primal. A desire to punish, to cleanse, to inflict the same suffering they so casually dispensed.

Lucian, ever perceptive, subtly shifted in his seat, creating a more inviting space. He understood what was coming, the storm brewing within me. He knew that once I started down this path, there was no turning back.

The couple stumbled into the booth, their movements clumsy, their voices slurred. The woman in lace, smooth as silk, gestured for them to sit opposite us. Their eyes flickered over Lucian and me, registering only wealth and privilege. They were too far gone to see the danger lurking beneath the surface.

"Welcome," Lucian purred, his voice a silken caress. "We've been expecting you."

The boyfriend leered, trying to focus his gaze on Lucian. "Expecting us? Who the hell are you?"

Lucian chuckled, a low, melodious sound that sent a shiver down my spine. "Someone who appreciates good company. And I believe you have quite the story to tell, don't you?"

The boyfriend blinked, confused. "Story? What are you talking about?"

"Oh, come now," Lucian said, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Don't be shy. Let's talk about your…family."

The boyfriend's face paled. He glanced at his girlfriend, who was too busy staring blankly ahead to notice his discomfort. My senses heightened, the scent of his fear mingling with the putrid odor of his cruelty. It was a heady combination, fueling the fire within me.

"What do you know about my family?" he demanded, his voice suddenly sharp, laced with a thread of panic.

I leaned forward, my gaze locking with his. My eyes, no longer human, burned with an ancient hunger. "Everything."

The word hung in the air, heavy and ominous. I could see the realization dawning in his eyes, the understanding that he was trapped, that he had stumbled into something far beyond his comprehension.

The woman in lace discreetly slipped away, melting back into the crowd. She knew her role, and she played it perfectly. She was a catalyst, a pawn in a game far older than humanity itself.

The boyfriend tried to stand, to flee, but it was too late. My hand shot out, gripping his wrist with inhuman strength. His eyes widened in terror as he felt the icy chill radiating from my touch.

"Don't run," I whispered, my voice a low growl. "We're just getting started."

The girlfriend, finally noticing that something was amiss, let out a whimper. Her eyes darted between me and her boyfriend, fear beginning to register on her face.

Good. Let her be afraid. Let her taste the same terror her boyfriend had inflicted on others. Tonight, justice would be served. Tonight, I will feed.