I want to lose.”
She laughed and touched his arm. The MP3 player cycled into another techno dance mix. Milada leaned into him and lowered her voice. “So where does a body go around here to get a little peace and quiet?”
Kevin nodded his head toward the stairway. She saw the hot spark in his eyes, the willingness and the desire. Her appetite quickened. She put down the cup and walked toward the stairway, her hand brushing across his arm. It took him no more than a moment to react. As she climbed the stairs, she glanced back at the living room. Nobody seemed to have noticed they’d left.
At the end of the hall, he opened a door and clicked on the light. Milada had to walk almost to the side of the bed so he could close the door. There was barely enough space between the foot of the bed and the wall to access the closet, barely enough space to cram a computer desk into the corner next to the window, barely enough space between the windows and the door to fit a chest of drawers and bookcase. Still, the room did not appear unsanitary. The air was tinged with male sweat and cologne.
Milada said, “You have interesting roommates.”
“As Cole says, this ain’t a Greek house—this is a geek house.”
Milada plucked a book off the bookcase. “Applied Structural Mechanics,” she read.
Kevin held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, I confess. I’m not a true computer geek. I only use them—I don’t live for them.”
“The Thunderbird is your work then?”
He preened. “Yeah.”
“I thought you looked a bit out of sorts.”
“They keep me around for my charm and good looks.”
She smiled at him. Kevin shrugged self-consciously. “Um, want the radio on?” He leaned against her side to click on the boom box perched atop the dresser. The radio was tuned to the university station. The velvet tones of Miles Davis’s Kind of Blue filled the small room like a rich perfume.
Milada replaced the book. She leaned back against the boy’s chest and closed her eyes. The boy wrapped his arms around her. She snuggled into his embrace, tucked her arms under his, pressing his forearms up against her chest. He was remarkably restrained—a modern-day college student trained to not misconstrue even the most suggestive of advances by a woman. But even a civilized man had his limits. Milada drew away from him. Not giving him time to imagine he’d done something wrong, she pulled off her top and then smothered his exclamation of surprise and delight with her mouth.
She fell onto the bed with him, her hands playing across his chest. As their intimacy progressed, she tasted the bite of the venom at the back of her throat. Turning the boy on his back, she parted his lips with hers and dripped venom into his mouth. His heart kicked as the drug hit his bloodstream and his blood pressure spiked. The adrenaline in his blood would soon catalyze the drug. In the space of that transition, she must do her work.
She straddled his waist, leaning forward so he could run his hands along her sides, across the velvety sheen of sweat and oil. He watched her like a child watching fireworks, wide-eyed and amazed, simultaneously falling into a waking dream as the alkaloids took hold. He passed the point of no return.
Her breath rushed out of her lungs in a barely controlled gasp. Her fangs sprang into her mouth. She clenched her mouth shut to keep the razor-sharp fangs hidden. When she could again catch her breath, she caressed his face and kissed him. Giving the venom time to do its work.
Consciousness at last fled his mind.
Milada studied his supple body, unspoiled by age. She smiled at the luster of satisfaction on his face. With cool efficiency, she straightened his body and tucked the pillow under his neck. She turned his head to the left and covered his body with her own, pinning him against the mattress, her left hand across his forehead.
Were he to move abruptly while she fed, her fangs would vivisect his muscles and tissues like a hot scalpel through soft suet. She ran her tongue across his neck, tasting the heat in his veins, seeking the optimal point of penetration. Feeding from the wrist was less carnivorous in appearance, but the slighter volume and pressure in the limbs made it markedly less pleasurable and intolerably more tedious.
She opened her mouth wide. Her fangs extended and sank through