Page 2 of Incandescence

Even before I looked up to meet the chef’s unblinking, light blue eyes, I knew he was in a trance, the same as the guard. My master cultivated humans to whatever best suited his purpose. And the chef’s weak mind and phenomenal cooking were more than beneficial.

The chef delivered our meals like clockwork three times a day, seven days a week. I could only assume he had no wife, no family to answer to and staff who didn’t question his odd behavior. Or maybe the staff, too, had been hypnotized by my master.

The chef paused beside the thick wooden slab of a table, where twelve could have comfortably dined. He took no notice of us—indeed, I doubt he even registered we were there.

Maya didn’t say anything more. She didn’t even move. She mustn’t have come willingly.

My master must have brainwashed her as well as drained her blood in order to subdue her. It was why he hadn’t yet partaken of my vein. He’d had his appetizer. He was saving main course for tonight.

I didn’t shudder with the revulsion I once did. I’d had years—forty-six of them, if my calculations were correct—to get used to being a meal on legs. Years to want only the crimson drops I was given in return. Besides, my attention was currently preoccupied by master’s latest food source.

I mightn’t be able to drown out her silent screams, but I could distract her for a little while.

I waited until the chef had unpacked his trolley and retreated with it into the elevator. Once the doors closed behind him and the guard, I peeled a plastic lid off its container. The scented steam of mushroom omelet with a serving of fried rice saturated the air.

Maya turned her head and blinked. “Is...is the food for us?”

I nodded. “Yes. Help yourself.”

Her mouth set, she pushed to her feet and staggered. I saw her determination and I understood her foolish logic. She was weak, but if she could eat and restore her strength, she could try to escape.

I stepped toward her and closed my hands over her upper arm. My mouth dried at her soft, feminine skin, her soapy, vanilla scent. And the buzz of instant attraction.

I mentally shook off my groin’s kick of sexual need. It had been some time—too long, obviously—since my master had provided a plaything. A sexual partner to relieve those other needs that at times plagued me.

I wasn’t stupid enough to believe my sexual appetite wasn’t right on the bottom rung of the ladder compared to my master’s blood cravings. In my master’s mind, Maya was simply a vessel to be used and abused. But guilt had long ago evaporated from the part I played. These days, survival was all I knew or cared about.

I guided Maya to the table even as I recounted my past playthings’ names. Sophie. Gemma. Tabitha. Carla. Danielle. Amy. Tania. Rose. Elizabeth. Martha. Louise. Charlotte.

Each one had lasted between three-and-a-half weeks and four years. Each one had been a pleasant diversion from my crippling blood hunger.

Maya sat and reached for the food. A fork clattered—she ignored the chopsticks—before she clamped hold of the cutlery and began shoveling food into her mouth.

I sat opposite her, intrigued by this latest arrival. I only hoped she would survive the incarceration. Survive the constant blood loss. Survive the mental toll.

“So tell me about yourself?” I leaned forward. It was nice to hear about normal lives. Nice to imagine a place where vampires only lived in fairytales and humans weren’t little better than cattle. It was even nicer to pretend my master wasn’t one of god only knew how many other vampires there were scattered around the planet. “Where are you from?”

She chewed and swallowed audibly, before clasping the bottle of white wine and glugging it down. There was no sign of enjoyment, just a need to refuel, recharge. She was certainly a fighter. The bottle clanked as she put it back onto the table, before she wiped her mouth on her sleeve and focused on me. Her green eyes were no longer void of life—they were shrewd, assessing.

I wondered absently if she liked what she saw, if my appearance was still relatively pleasant to behold for this generation. Women had always been attracted to me, but tastes changed over time. My master occasionally sent up a barber and tailor to attend to my needs.

I’d never had need for a doctor, but guessed the vampire blood I craved counteracted any ills.

“That’s none of your business.” Her eyes flashed. “You know my friends and family will be looking for me.”

I sighed, seeing through her lies. My master would have looked long and hard for the perfect target. Maya wouldn’t just be healthy, she’d also have no family and few friends. “Say goodbye to whatever life you once had.” I swept out a hand. “And say hello to your new one.”

She shot to her feet, her chair clattering back onto the marble floor. “I refuse to be stuck up here with that...monster!” She lifted her head. “And with you.”

I nodded. Better to be honest now and get the hysterics out the way. “Unfortunately, you don’t have any say in the matter. My master is also your master now. You’re his latest food source.”

Her eyes widened, her hand automatically drifting to her throat, touching the healed puncture wounds. I was impressed. Most women fell to pieces, even if they’d blanked out being fed on. Maya clearly had a very strong will and mind.

“So...what happened to the last food source?”

“She didn’t make it.” I dulled my senses to her shocked gasp in just the same way I dulled my mind to the memory of Sophie’s demise. I cleared my throat and added, “She killed herself.”

---