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For the smell of fear tonight
Wakes an ancient lust that will not be denied...
You're mine
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The day had been cast into shades of goldenrod and peach, the bloated sun hovering stubbornly on the horizon. The lake had a mirror finish, and not even a single leaf rustled in the trees above. It was as if nature herself were holding her breath, waiting to see what the solid blonde male at the water's edge would do. He did not move, did not breathe...he was, after all, undead and didn't need oxygen anymore. The icy chips of his eyes were narrowed and locked somewhere off in the distance, never straying from that fiery orange bulb. It would not have been hard to mistake him for a statue, one carved of the heaviest of marble. He made no movement, not even a blink. The only sign of life in the chiseled Russian was his hands. Curling into fists, then relaxing. Curling...and relaxing. The action did not...could not...portray the turmoil that was raging within him, but it was the only outward sign he allowed of the beast within.
Since his meeting with Cammie that morning, the beast had been all but throwing itself at the walls of his control, driven awake by the fit of rage Erich had worked himself into. It screamed for death, to be allowed to feed on She Who Caused Anger. Erich had very nearly lost control in the apartment with his former partner. The Other had awakened without warning, fierce, violent...stealthy. Erich had lunged toward her, a sound ripping from his throat surely not human, but also unlike anything even the undead were capable of. In the last second, the small part of the former spy had been able to reign back. He had nearly tore the door from the hinge as he exited, running not for his life, but for Cammie's.
He had fed. There hadn't been a choice. It was either prey on a stranger, or Cammie. Erich had known, even in his frenzy, that he could never live with the latter. Two souls had satisfied the beast enough to keep it from trying overcome his control in an effort to return to Cammie. Ever since their paths had crossed in the club, Erich's beast had become imprinted on the moonflower scent of her. Her soul was like no other, tantalizing that dark entity in a way to other had. It had become utterly fixated on her, craving the succulence of her life force like a new and exciting drug. Erich was horrified at how badly he wanted to consume her, thus making the stoic male even more completely on edge. The idea of feasting on her, of letting himself be consumed by the musky sweetness of her scent...it was just tantalizing enough to make him fear her. Yes, for the first time in his life, Erich had found something he feared. For of he did give in to those urges, if he did steal her life, Erich knew that he would truly be dead. The very foundation of his character would have crumbled, an he would finally, in utter totality, become the monster he had tried so hard to fight.
The colors around the ex spy had softened into the pastels of twilight as the sun finally made its exit. The first star peeked shyly from the deep purple of the sky above. The sounds of the night had begun to play...crickets in the long grass, the haunting call of a loon somewhere far in the distance. Closer, an owl hooted. Erich breathed deeply of the scents around him, his intensified senses honing in on his surroundings. He could detect the faint mineral smell of the lake, could pick up on the coppery scent of a field mouses blood as it pulsed beneath its flesh. Miles away, humans were barbecuing meat...beef, he knew. He remembered a time when such a smell might have stimulated his appetite...but that was no more. Cooking flesh no longer appealed to him. Only blood now. Only souls.
He had been reflecting on the morning for hours on the lake shore, trying to calm his beast, trying to reign in his anger. At first he had been shocked at how white hot his rage had been. As he'd stood there arguing with Cammie, he had realized he had wanted to hurt her. To pick her up, shake her like a rag doll, beat sense into her when words had failed. She could not see the flaws of her plan. She did not know those who bathed in death like he. It hadn't been until much later, however, that Erich had not been enraged merely because she would not listen to his logic. He had been enraged because her logic made perfect sense. While a daytime attack was still not an avenue he wanted to explore, she had been right to suggest they split up. Admitting that to himself his caused the anger to boil over all over again, but in the seclusion of the woods, the only ones to witness his tantrum was the towers of pines above.
He would have to risk her.
There was no other way.
They would smell him. They would smell her. To keep together would be risking certain demise. If they split, they might have half a chance. Erich had pondered this for hours, right up until the point where the sun finally dipped away. When it blinked from view, Erich's arctic gaze snapped from the horizon to the path he had taken to get to the woods. In the next moment, he was moving silently through the brush, leaving the lake to the night creatures.
It took him the better part of two hours to make the trek back to town. He stopped only on one occasion, when a deer had frozen on the path before him. He had consumed it, despite he fact that he did not have a taste for animals. It was better to be full, however, with the destination he was heading towards. He was not surprised to find the town lacking in activity, just as hollow and empty as he felt. It was better that way, he reasoned. Keeping temptation to a minimum was the best course of action. He knew it was not safe to return to Cammie, but that was where he was heading anyway. He had left in such a blaze of fury that nothing had even resolved, no plan laid out. He could not abandon her now, leave her to fight his battle alone. And she surely would fight, for that was the nature of who she was. If she lost her life, he would absolutely blame himself. So despite his better judgement, the Russian pushed on until he was once again standing face to face with we front door.
He lifted his hand and rapped his knuckles across then surface of the wood, using the same percussion they had used in the past so that she would know it was him before she even opened the door. His muscled chest rose as he filled it with air, steeling himself against the inevitable assault of her scent that would float to him like the sweetest perfume the second she opened the door.
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For the animal's soul is mine
We will be completed right before your eyes
I have no control this time
And now we both shall dine in hell tonight
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