The Vampire's Intern
I moved to the floor-to-ceiling window and watched as she stalked through the pavements and stopped for a cab.
In all the centuries I had existed, no human had ever unsettled me the way Lena Moreau did and that frightened me more than hunger ever could. I watched as she climbed into a cab, her shirt buttoned haphazardly, and her hair a spill of chestnut-brown waves. As the wind blew just right, I caught sight of her neck, porcelain–pale and delicate.
The smell of her blood was intoxicating, sweet, and dangerous but it was the way her presence unraveled my restraint that truly threatened me.