Her incessant giggles cut off abruptly, causing Thackery to pin his ears back at the sudden uncomfortable silence. The vampire anticipated a scream. A wavering question of some kind—who he was, what he was, why he was staring at her so intently. He waited for the drumbeat of her heart to speed up. For her hackles to prickle and her jaw to drop, tail slithering between her short legs. But instead the girl scampered up to him like a curious puppy, stopping close enough that he could have reached out and mutilated her stupid innocent face if he wanted to. A warning growl throbbed softly in Thackery’s throat, almost a purr, but it gradually died down when it because clear the lass was far too idiotic to perceive such an obvious threat. Better not waste my energy too soon. “Why are your eyes glowing? And why don’t you have a smell?” Questions a child would ask. Was she a child? Or was she a grown woman with the mind of a stunted kid? Thacks blinked at her—the action momentarily plunging them into total darkness. He smirked at her, the expression heart-stoppingly handsome, and quirked an ear in her direction—faking more patience and friendliness than he really felt.

“That’s just my attractiveness shining through, baby girl. I’m so hot I’m on fire.” The fae’s wide eyes caught the gleam of his garnets and tossed it back, rippling light dancing across her irises. Thacks wondered what color they really were . . . hues were impossible to fully distinguish in the darkness, and his own lanterns would forever splash everything the same bloody carmine. “You never answered my question though, hon. Are you lost? Are you . . . alone?”

He couldn’t stop his tongue from slipping past his lips and licking the curving length of his smile, seductive and hungry, claws scraping every so slightly on the stone as he fully tasted the woman’s very luscious perfume. She smelled warm and clean and alive. Thackery bet her high voice sounded awfully cute when she screamed. Would she scream if he bit her? Or was she the whimpering kind, who would cry and blubber as his fangs pierced her? When she asked another question rather than answer him, the blonde monster sighed, standing up so that he towered over the short creature, twin hell portals glaring down at her.

“I’m a vampire, little one. A blood-drinker. A murderer. A monster. I don’t think I have a scent myself anymore, but can’t you smell the death on my fur?” Experimentally, Thacks pressed his muzzle into his own shoulder, snuffing loudly before turning back to smile devilishly at the lass. “Mmm—blood and guts. But you . . .” And now his muzzle was shoved into the silky pale fur of her neck, right above her chest. He inhaled deeply, eyes rolling back in their sockets at the banquet entering his lungs. “Ah. That’s the stuff. You smell good enough to eat.”