A week had passed. Tyrus had tried to distract himself all week, but he could not run from his thoughts.
Anya.
His chest tightened even at the thought of her name. He thought of her warm body, remembering how good it had felt against his. She had intelligent eyes that saw right through him, a feeling that left him disconcerted.
He had been watching her, on and off, enough to gather that she was a loner who worked from home. She was always on her computer, her hair tied up effortlessly in a messy bun, looking sexy as hell.
Unlike other humans her age, she was hardly on her smartphone. Although she went out to run her errands, she had not been with any company over the past week. He wondered if she had any friends.
Once, he had seen her masturbating alone in her bedroom. Fascinated, he could not tear his eyes away. As she lay naked on her bed, touching herself, he wondered if she was fantasising about him.
What was happening to him? Nobody, human or vampire, had ever had any effect on him like this.
His thoughts tormented him. He'd caught himself wondering what would happen if he could be with her again. But every time he entertained the thought, reality clamped down on him.
If he continued to see her, and his kind found out, they would kill her. Or worse. The Governance had a tendency to make examples of those who broke the rules, a warning to all the others. It wouldn't have mattered if he were the one to pay for it, but he could never let them near her.
Besides, what could he possibly have with her? There was no happily ever after for a human and a vampire. It occurred to him that he could change her, make her like him, but it was not something he would ever wish on anyone. He recalled his own change, how his life had been taken from him against his will. No, he would not do that to her.
He had to forget her. Still, it had taken everything he had to reject her, after having had his taste of her. That morning, she had looked so inviting, flushed and naked on that bed. He could have gone for many rounds more. He had had to switch himself off, he could not even look at her. When he left, it felt more like he had fled.
He hated the desperate, mopey person he had become over the past few days. All he had been feeling lately was weak and stupid. He avoided his kind, afraid that those who knew him well would realize that something was up.
One night, he had stalked a woman whose hair reminded him of Anya. He had followed her home and fucked her, then wiped her memory before he left. It had been a bad decision. The woman had been dull in bed and her blood had tasted bland. It had only made him crave Anya even more.
He decided that there was one other thing he had not tried. It was time to pay someone a visit.
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