Sometime in the early 1800s
He walked through the dark night, his strides long and confident as he moved gracefully and silently along the dirt pavement. It was usually his favourite time of night, two hours passed the witching hour and he enjoyed the solitude even as he felt a slight weariness settle into what was left of his soul.
Being a night walker was invariably a lonely life. He seldom came across others of his kind and usually regretted it when he did. They were often uncouth, little more than predators with no concept of how to be discreet when they slaked their hunger.
He longed for this century to be over with already, though it had barely begun. He prayed the next century would be better, that the humans would progress into a more civilised state, that he could walk among them at night and ease the loneliness that crept up on him from time to time.
Nathaniel Ryan sighed deeply and scanned the empty streets with bored green eyes. His long black hair fluttered in the cold night air and he pulled his long black cloak tightly around himself. It wasn't that he felt the cold; it was more a case of stopping the garment fluttering wildly in the breeze.
His hunger was on the rise and he knew he would need to feed soon. He hadn't fed in almost three months. Being an Elder he didn't need to feed as frequently as a newly turned vampire. They had to feed nightly, sometimes even more than once a night. The older a vampire became the easier it was to control the burning hunger and Nathaniel was old. He was probably one of the oldest vampires still living and he was proud of that fact, even prouder that his bloodlust didn't dominate his life.
Nathaniel had managed to last a complete year without feeding once. He had almost paid for it though. When he did finally feed, he had almost lost control and killed the lovely wench who had offered herself up to him. He had not made that mistake again. Now he chose to feed every three months or so. He found that time scale was the most fitting for his needs.
He sighed as he felt the burning itch in his throat start to build the more he thought about feeding. The desire to find a woman to satisfy his baser urges was increased too. With the bloodlust came the lust for sexual activity. He often lay with a woman without feeding, but the satisfaction he received from the joining paled in comparison to feeding whilst riding between a woman's pale thighs. Feasting on a woman's hot blood during the act of sex was completely wondrous; for both partners.
His body hardened and he felt his fangs begin to elongate. He tried to shift his thoughts to something else, but it was too late. He needed to feed; he needed to sink deep inside a beautiful woman's body. Immediately.
He stretched out his senses and began to scent the air, smelling for that one intoxicating scent which would stir his blood. He found it quickly, a few houses down from where he was standing. The building was stately for the small town he was in. It must belong to a rich merchant or possibly the town mayor. He followed the scent of violets and sunshine, pulled inexorably towards the woman whose scent teased him so.
He paused at a downstairs window, looking inside and being faintly surprised to find the owner of the intoxicating scent sitting in a large cushioned chair beside an open fire. It was the early hours of the morning and most humans had been in their beds for hours.
He ran his green eyes over the woman's face and smiled slowly. He was looking at the face of an angel. She was quite simply exquisite to look at. Her face was heart shaped and as she looked up from her book he could see deep green eyes framed with long, thick, black lashes, a small, straight nose and wide, luscious lips. Her skin was porcelain white with not a blemish in sight.
It was her hair that arrested him the most. It was golden in colour and naturally curled. It was tied back at the nape of her neck in a sapphire blue, satin ribbon, and as she moved to set down her book and tease the fire, he could see that it was extremely long and came to her waist. He imagined wrapping himself in those long silky tresses and his body hardened further. She was dressed in a long white cotton nightgown with a high neck and long sleeves. The garment effectively hid her body but not enough that he couldn't see that she was slim beneath it, with full breasts.
He silently eased around the house until he reached the back door. It was no effort to tease the lock open with his mind and slip silently inside. He followed the scent until he had navigated the dark house and reached the parlour the woman was sitting in.
She was waiting for him. It was the only conclusion he could come to for when he appeared in the doorway, the angel with the golden hair was standing before the fire, her face to the door. Large, green eyes regarded him with only a hint of fear in them.
"I knew you would come, Sir," she said quietly as he simply stood there, drinking in her exquisite beauty.
As she spoke he recognised her voice, for it was light and musical, the voice of a woman he had heard speak before. He searched his mind and remembered waiting while she spoke to a merchant he had been purchasing travelling supplies from. He had been intent on buying his supplies at the time and paid no notice to her after the first glance.
She had obviously remembered him though. It was not uncommon for women to remember him. He cut a tall, imposing figure, with his wide chest and trim, fit physique. He knew his appearance was particularly appealing to women. It was all part of the many attributes he had gained when choosing this life of his.
"Did you?" he asked with a hint of amusement in his tone. "Then you have me at a disadvantage, because I did not know, until a moment ago that I would be visiting you."
Her gaze was fixed on his as she shivered slightly at the seductive quality in his voice. He had automatically lowered his timber, sending out his compulsive tone as he spoke. It came naturally to him when he needed to feed.
