Bayou Sauvage #6

darkmale

He studied the ceiling and waited for the numbness in his limbs to recede. With patience born of habit he marked the lines running above him and let his thoughts linger on his present problem with one little kitten.

His nails ripped the satin sheets. She had reluctantly agreed to work as a mule in exchange for getting rid of her father’s debt, but that didn’t imply cooperation. Like the wild cat she was, she fought him every step of the way forcing his hand into violence, like last night.

She needed taming, and Dak – against orders – had pulled his punch both times exposing a weakness. He snarled, shredding satin. The bodyguard feared him, he was sure of it. The girl despised him, much to his chagrin, and while he wanted her, that didn’t mean he needed the guard.

But it amused him, much like watching a fly devoid of its wings, to see them struggle toward escape. There was no escape! He held their lives within the palm of his hand they should know he was their god! His fingers closed squeezing into a tight fist until blood seeped from where his nails buried into the skin. He lifted his hand and sucked at the crimson rivulets. While the guard was a walking corpse on borrowed time, he had big plans for Kitty, if only she would do what she was told. He sluggishly pushed himself up, and turned toward the sunlight invading the room. The warmth rejuvenating him.

He sneered as he thought of all the false information about his kind that he persistently maintained. Contrary to the stories the sun was not his enemy. He was a cold-blooded creature of the night, yes, but sunlight provided him warmth pushing away the numbness that invaded after the blood energy dwindled.

He slipped nude from bed, and stretched before fully opening his blinds allowing the light to ripple along defined muscle. He was the apex predator; young, strong, fast, and as soon as he fed, full of energy. Thankful for the violence that erupted against him in the 60’s. Glad he had been left bleeding in that broken alley. And immensely grateful for the sinister shadow that had bent licking at his wounds. He didn’t remember that night, until the awakening three days later feeling better than he ever had before in his whole sad, sorry life but with an urgent need.

He laughed out loud as he remembered his first feeding. Sloppy, full of mistakes, he’d been a neonate then, vulnerable, defenseless but he had survived! Now he was invincible.

He pushed away from the window, and settled at his computer. In keeping with his secrets he worked during the day, and played at night. They thought him dead to the world at this time. What did he care, it fit with his plans. But for now, he rubbed his hands together, there remained the taming of a little kitten who didn’t understand who was master.

Word Count: 497

Photo: HongKiat