and she regretted every nasty comment she’d ever made about his taste in films and music.
He was perfect.
She shook her head hard, trying to clear it.
Focus, she told herself.
The woman stood there, watching as Philip walked up to her. She had brown-black hair in a ponytail. She wore a stylish leather messenger bag over one shoulder and large gold hoops in her ears.
“My sister and I have car trouble,” he said, letting his French accent mesh the words together. “Can you help?”
“Do you need my phone?” she asked, taking shallow breaths, her eyes locked on his face.
“No, we are late for a family dinner on Capitol Hill. Can you take us?”
Letting strangers into her car was probably not something this woman did every day, but if he’d asked for her Visa card, she would have given it to him.
Eleisha decided not to talk—as he’d introduced her as his sister, and she couldn’t fake a French accent.
“Um . . . okay,” the woman said. “How far up on the hill?”
“I’ll show you.” He smiled and held out his hand. “Philip.”
“Trudy,” she responded, taking his hand, her voice shaking.
Eleisha climbed into the backseat quickly, as this was the only difficult part of her new routine. They couldn’t let their intended victim start the car. So far, while training Philip, Eleisha had handled this part.
Earlier tonight, she told him he’d be on his own. He needed to learn how to do this.
But as Trudy put on her seat belt and fiddled with the keys, Philip just sat there, examining the stereo.
Without invading his private thoughts, Eleisha flashed out telepathically.
Put her to sleep!
He flinched and then frowned. Maybe he wanted to go for a ride up to Capitol Hill? He reached out to touch Trudy’s face with the tips of his fingers just before she put her keys in the ignition.
“Wait,” he said softly.
Her hand paused in midair.
Eleisha watched Philip’s face as his eyes narrowed slightly in concentration. He was getting better at controlling his newfound abilities. Right now, he was inside Trudy’s mind, lulling her to sleep.
Within seconds, her head fell back against the seat. Her eyes were closed.
He’d done it.
“Good,” Eleisha said. “Remember to feed from her wrist.”
“I know!”
His whole body looked tense, as if it took all his effort not to rip out Trudy’s throat. His lips twisted back over his teeth, and his eyes were hard. Eleisha had seen him struggle in their earlier practice sessions but never like this.
“Philip?” she asked, getting ready to launch over the seat.
He moved closer to Trudy, took her right wrist in his hand, and bit down, being careful not to tear too much skin—just as Eleisha had taught him.
She relaxed slightly. He seemed to have gained control of himself, and the worst was over. All he had to do now was keep Trudy asleep, take enough blood . . . enough life force to sustain himself, and then replace her memories of meeting him with one that convinced her she’d fallen and gashed her own wrist and then climbed into the car before passing out.
Accomplishing this last part was easy, or at least Eleisha thought so. They would be out of the car in a few moments.
But then Philip’s feeding sounds grew louder, and he suddenly used both hands to grip Trudy’s arm inside his mouth as he tore down deeper, draining and drinking her blood fast enough to kill her. His features were taut, and his eyes were glowing.
He’d lost himself.
Eleisha knew better than to touch him when he got like this. On instinct, she flashed out telepathically.
Stop it!
To her relief, he jerked his head back, pulling his teeth from Trudy’s arm.
But this broke his mental hold on her, and she opened her eyes, seeing his blood-smeared face, seeing her torn arm, and she began to scream. Anyone within a hundred yards would hear her.
He snarled and covered her mouth with his hand.
“No!” Eleisha said, and this time, she reached over the seat, grabbing his shoulder, trying to pull him back. “Get off!”
Instantly, she reached out with her thoughts, taking control of Trudy’s mind, rushing her back in time to the moment she walked into the parking garage.
The inside of the car fell silent, and even while she focused on Trudy’s memories, Eleisha could feel Philip’s tight shoulder easing beneath her fingers.
The memory of a simple fall would no longer work.
Eleisha created the image of a mugger as she rebuilt the last ten minutes in Trudy’s mind. Trudy walked toward her waiting