On her better nights, Catherine could almost see herself as a badass vampire—a hunter in the dark, a stalker in shadow, a sultry blood hunting seductress. A dark, mysterious, and erotic creature of the night to be feared. But tonight was not one of her better nights. Tonight, Catherine was just another girl at a bar, sulking and hoping someone would talk to her. She mulled over her water, trying to block her supernatural sense of smell. This wasn’t the kind of place where it came in handy; the dark wooden walls were likely hours away from growing mold, and the cramped space seemed to almost compress the foul scents of old cigarette smoke, piss, and cheap food forced inside.

Visiting was an unfortunate necessity. After several days without feeding, Catherine had forced herself to embark on her usual emergency blood routine: Going to a dive, waiting for the sleaziest guy there to pick her up, drinking the hamburger grease he had instead of blood, and then heading home and jilling off until all the warmth left her lifeless body once more. She hated doing it, but that was her lot in death. Not every leech had hypnotic eyes to seduce hotties effortlessly or penthouses full of models to eat. Some had to put serious social effort in just to get their fill, and most nights Catherine didn’t feel up to the challenge—and so she would inevitably put off feeding until she had to go back to her emergency plan.

“You gonna drink somethin’, or what?” Derek, tonight’s lovely bartender, slunk over to her end of the scratched-to-shit wooden bar, clearly annoyed she was still sticking to water. The man’s beady pig eyes practically sunk into his massive unkempt beard, and his faded Metallica tee was more stain than shirt. He was the ideal employee for a venue with sticky floors and too-loud dirt rock blasting constantly.

“Club soda.” That ought to piss him off. 

He leaned forward on the bar to glare at her, a dim ceiling light catching him at a uniquely unflattering angle. “Look babe, you gotta buy something if you’re—“

“Two whiskies, Derek, thank you kindly.” Tonight’s bowl of hamburger grease slid onto the stool beside her. “Neat.” Real charmer. The lucky winner wore a black leather jacket that looked like it’d never seen a rough day in its life and baggy light blue denim jeans. His salt and pepper beard shadow ranged closer to 10 o’ clock, and his hairline had broken out into full retreat. He was entirely unpalatable and exactly what Catherine had expected.

“Thanks, cowboy. What’s your name?” Catherine snatched the whiskey from Derek and covertly spilled some on the way to her fake sip. Undead stomachs didn’t take kindly to things other than water and blood.

“Bill. Yours?” Bill scooted the stool toward her, peeling off his jacket to reveal his mini potbelly and blue polo. Fancy.

“Lily.” She forced a smile, which he eagerly returned.

“You come around here often, Lily?” 

“Fuck no.” Her words were lost to distortion blaring from the bar speakers. Bill kept on trucking though, bless his delicious heart.

“I would have noticed someone as pretty as you!” Bill went for the arm touch, and Catherine grudgingly allowed it.

“Aw, thanks. What do you do for a living, Bill?”  

“Jet ski rentals, mostly. Although actually I have…” Once Catherine got the man going with a topic question, she only had to offer the occasional nod to keep him happy while he droned on. Meanwhile, she was free to distract herself by looking past him at other patrons. In the two decades since her death, she’d only grown to enjoy people watching more; the activity took on a special quality once she’d divorced herself from average people’s concerns like breathing or getting older. What once was mundane now seemed delightful in the face of unchanging, cold unlife. And while a majority of the other clientele resembled Derek or Bill, Catherine could catch a few interesting glimpses into other lives: A fussy toddler waving his fists in defiance, a group of geeky guys huddled over a tablet playing some music video, and a leggy brunette by herself wearing only a yellow sundress in the middle of a New York City winter.

“…y’know, because the market obviously isn’t there this time of year.” Her ‘mhm’ was dry and automatic. What a miserable bore Bill was, and what a miserable ass she was for humoring him. “I actually have a buddy who deals with cruise liners, and he…”

Catherine sighed, her gaze losing focus as a pang of sorrow struck. The problem with people watching was that it often brought on the bane of her existence: immortal ennui. All the challenges of loneliness stretched over an infinite timespan, with none of the obstacles or milestones of aging to mark the journey. She’d had a decent handle on the feeling when her progenitor was around, but since they’d split her nights were more and more filled with ambient longings and coping strategies. You just need to eat someone, Catherine, and then the world will make sense. You just need to clean your room, Catherine, and then the world will make sense. You just need to go out more, Catherine, and then you’ll forget the existential nightmare of surviving for all eternity without ever living. Looking at mortals could pass the time pleasantly, but it also reminded her of all the time she had to pass.

Catherine’s train of thought was interrupted when the sundress brunette made eye contact with her. The mysterious patron offered a wry smile, as if sharing in the pain of Bill’s boring monologue. Distantly, the vampire caught a whiff of peppermint. And then Sundress was back to sipping her drink, something colorful and fruity.

“…happens if you skimp on quality, though. What about you, Lily? What do you do?” Bill leaned over onto the bar, chin pressing against his meaty upturned palm. 

“I eat people.” 

“What?” 

“Blood bank.” She sighed. It was the dumbest running gag she had with her progenitor, one she hadn’t stopped using after they’d left. 

“Oh, non-profit? How is it there? I remember reading an article about some trouble people were…” Catherine scanned the room far more openly, trying to both signal her disinterest to Bill while also ‘accidentally’ catching the eye of Sundress again. The brunette really did look out of place—not only was she poorly dressed for the cold, she also had an assortment of bracelets along her forearms and was engrossed in a book despite the loud shitty music blasting around her. The book proved to be more interesting than the rest of the room, apparently, as Sundress didn’t look up and see Catherine again. Wishful thinking, the vampire supposed. However, the soothing but sharp odor of peppermint wasn’t entirely gone; it constantly tickled the edges of her senses, playing in and out of her range, until she was hyper focused on picking it out once more. It was nice, when she could smell it. Reminded her of home, of safety and security. 

“…and obviously the supply chain is screwed there as well, what with—“

Catherine blinked. What the hell was she doing, sniffing around this nasty place? It was time to get dinner and get out. Catherine placed a hand on Bill’s arm, the one he’d subconsciously stretched out across the bar toward her tits over the course of the conversation. “—Hey Bill, I’m going to be honest with you. I’m going through a rough breakup, and I’m really here just to get fucked and move on. That sound like your speed?” It was never not the speed of skeevy guys.

“Woah, alright. I get you girl, I do. I’m happy to help you out.” His arm completed its journey, copping a rough feel of her breast as he grinned. “Tell you what: I’m gonna go ahead and drain the snake, and then we can head on over to mine. Sound good?” 

Catherine nodded. “Sounds good.” Sounds like relief, more like. She’d gone long enough without feeding that sharp pains of hunger shot through her stomach and a haze of bloodlust tickled her thoughts. Not enough to make her lose control, but enough so she’d never forget her need. The hunger was pressing enough that Bill’s likely smelly cock was the lesser of two evils. He rose in a hurry, slapping a 20 on the counter and rushing to the bathroom. While he was gone, Catherine gathered her things and spilled the rest of her drink onto the floor when the scent of peppermint struck her again, stronger this time. She whipped around to look for—

“Oh! Sorry!” came a light soprano behind her. In twisting around on the stool, she’d bumped into Sundress—and now found herself eye to eye with her soft tummy, hidden as it was beneath summery yellow fabric. 

“It’s fine,” Catherine reassured the brunette, suppressing the ultra-brief flash of supernatural rage that followed her surprise. The latter half of Sundress’s cocktail had found its way onto her lap in the bump, staining her thigh-length black pleated skirt and flooding her senses with fruity sweetness.

“I’m totally a klutz! Here, let’s get you cleaned up.” Sundress walked to the bathroom, not looking back to see if Catherine followed. Yet after a moment, a wave of calm pushed down her usual disdain for social interaction and she went after her boozy assailant. Might as well; the woman seemed novel, if nothing else. Could get an interesting interaction out of her. Beat waiting around for Bill. She slid off her seat and walked to the cramped toilet. “Sorry for that again. What’s your name?” Sundress bent over by the sink, dabbing at Catherine’s lap with paper towels in a gesture that was friendly but a bit much. 

“Uh, Lily.” She backed away from the pressing hands and took the paper towels for herself, only to be overwhelmed by a rush of peppermint. It flowed through her long-dried sinuses, making them tingle in a way that had her bent over and reeling. Wh…what the hell was this? A low growl built in her throat. Did this shit bar have paper towels that smelled like fucking mint? The thought didn’t make much sense—didn’t explain her reaction either—but the cloying scent was so goddamn distracting that it kept pulling her away from her assorted doubts. Fine. It was the paper towels. But as she pulled back, her nose was no less tantalized; the smell now covered the front of her clothes. 

“I’m Elise!” Sundress put her hand on Catherine’s shoulder, nearly making the vampire hiss instinctively. “Are you okay, Lily?” 

The heady spice was making her skin tingle with warmth, as if every pore was drawing it in. Catherine unsteadily stood back up to her full height (a few inches over Elise—inches provided by her heels, but inches nonetheless). Everything was fine. Vampire rules were weird; she showed up in mirrors and had no issue with garlic, but apparently someone deep in her bloodline hated fucking essential oils. She could handle that. “I’m fine.” 

“Good!” Elise brushed some paper towel fuzz off her skirt, remaining a little too handsy. “I love your outfit, by the way. So unique.” Catherine glanced at the bathroom mirror. Her appearance was forever mismatched, with the hair and face of a picture perfect blonde femme while her clothing and attitude fit better at a grungy hardcore venue. Her progenitor had changed her on the day she was to be a bridesmaid—the only day in her entire life she went all out, she liked to remind them—and had forever frozen her appearance in a state of salon-primped beauty. Her blonde hair was dead straight and luxuriously soft, her nails were carefully shaped, and her skin was expertly cared for with a half-dozen different products. Her button nose had not a single errant hair, and her thin lips not a single cell of loose skin. The only honest portion of her face were her inhumanly cold blue eyes, and only because vampirism had further lightened and harshened them. Every other component of Catherine’s appearance from clothing to make-up was designed to distract from her Disney princess face: Her wardrobe of black, today represented by a tank top and skirt, her collection of chunky black dyke boots, her heavy dark makeup, and her penchant for long, flowing coats. Sometimes, indulging in the gothic vampire fantasy was far too fun.

“Really! You’re absolutely striking. It’s the kind of look that makes me want to know more.” Elise’s compliment pulled Catherine away from her reflection.

“…what?” 

“Haven’t you ever had that? Where you look at someone and think, ‘wow, what’s your story’?”

“I…yeah, I guess. I sort of thought that about you.” Catherine groaned internally. Did she really say that out loud? Sure, Elise was pretty with her big brown eyes and adorable little dimples, but an awkward line like that made her sound like a goddamn dweeb. Stupid hunger had her dead-ass brain tied in knots. 

“Oh really?” Elise’s eyes twinkled. “Well, why don’t we chat while you wait for your man to come back?” She grabbed Catherine’s hand and pulled her back out to the bar, and the vampire went with the flow. Whatever; she didn’t care how the night went, so long as it ended with her getting blood. Although…

“He’s not ‘my’ man. He’s just…a guy.” She had to make that clear. Catherine slumped down onto her stool, falling a little faster than expected. “Hnngh…”

“So.” Elise perched down beside her, still holding her hands excitedly. “Why are you here, Lily?” 

Catherine blinked, shaking off the lingering fuzziness. Certainly it didn't help that the peppermint was constant now, emanating from her own clothing. “What are you talking about?” she grumbled.

“You looked miserable talking to whatshisname, and you haven’t even drunk anything. I’m just wondering why you came!” Elise’s bracelets jiggled with each emphatic gesture, shifting and rattling about her arms. The sound kept the predator in Catherine on edge, like a toy dangling before a cat. 

“You’ve been watching me?” She meant to sound threatening, but her voice came out flat instead, like she was merely making a statement. Something wasn’t right. Catherine felt higher than she did after feeding on a benzo fiend, and only after distantly smelling a few candy canes. And now this bitch was talking like she’d had her eye on Catherine the entire night? No. She could find blood elsewhere; this place no longer felt safe. Or rather, felt unusually unsafe. “I…I have to go.” 

“Aww. Okay! Have a good night, Lily!” Catherine stood, swayed on her feet for several seconds, and then another big whiff of peppermint sent her plummeting down to the floor. A girl failing to hold her liquor wasn’t a particularly rare sight at a classy establishment like this, and the patrons merely chuckled to themselves and walked around her prone form. Most of them, anyways. “Uh oh! Took a little tumble, hm? That’s odd, given you spilled your entire whiskey on the ground.” Elise leaned down next to her. 

Where was Bill? Unless he had a bladder the size of a minivan, he should have come back by now. God, Catherine realized, she desperately wanted Bill to come back—this night had truly gotten fucked. “Get…away from…me.” 

“Don’t worry, I know what’ll sober you up!” Elise pulled out a tiny brown bottle, opened it, and poured a tiny bead of liquid onto her fingertip. Catherine froze when the smell hit her. “Peppermint oil. Great for relaxation!” Her grin turned predatory as she wiped her finger directly under the vampire’s nose.

“You fuck…” Catherine hissed, the harsh noise sliding out past her extended fangs as she thrashed on the dirty floor. Now she understood what was going on; now this little punk was about to become red meat. She didn’t have to breathe, after all. She could shut her throat tight until the moment this uppity bitch’s blood poured down it. “You fucked up.” 

Fear crossed Elise’s face as she finally witnessed the true nature of the predator she’d been toying with. Catherine loved the expression on her, loved the natural terror that came from a mortal recognizing their place in the food chain. She sat up, muscles twisting with supernatural dexterity to bring her face to face with her prey. Elise would make a nice meal: she had some meat on her bones, the sort which emphasized her wide hips and thick thighs. Normally, Catherine wasn’t gluttonous. Normally, she took what she needed and moved on. But the scared girl in the sundress had insulted the monster within her, and she intended to take Every. Single. Drop. The crowd, the mess, the consequences, none of it mattered right now to her. There was only the hunt. Catherine wrapped her arms around Elise’s torso, and went for her neck. 

But before the vampire arrived, she felt a hand press into her slit. The sensation, numbed as it was by her lack of blood, was unexpected and pleasant enough that it made her inhale sharply. 

…oh, fuck.

The peppermint oil beneath her nostrils sent a heady smell skyrocketing into her sinuses, up around her brain, and throughout every inch of her body. Comforting warmth coated her mind and weighed down her thoughts like a heavy blanket. Muscles relaxed, eased up, or outright refused to cooperate in the face of their new freshly scented companion. The sudden loss of tension turned Catherine’s death lunge into a soft flop, and she fell into Elise’s arms with a quiet moan. 

“Wow, you almost had me there! Good thing you’re so needy, hm?” Elise gently pulled Catherine onto her feet, wrapping an arm around her waist. For her part, the vampire meekly complied, lost in a world of pleasant tingles. “Don’t worry about your man—he doesn’t remember you exist. Besides, I don’t think he really cared about his little Lily. Not like me.” 

“Huh? S’Cath’rin,” Catherine mumbled, annoyed that the pretty girl holding her was using the wrong name.

“Oh! Well then, it’s very nice to meet you, Catherine.” Elise kissed her forehead, and a delightful flowing warmth shot out from her lips. Catherine took another deep breath, knees wobbling at the head rush that followed. Vaguely she remembered something weird about breathing, some reason not to, but she paid it no mind. Bad air couldn’t hurt her; she was already dead! The thought made her giggle. “What’s so funny, beautiful?” 

The cold night air did nothing to dull the warm tingling; it also seemed to do very little to Elise despite her lack of winter wear. Catherine blinked, realizing she wasn’t in the bar anymore. Oh well—she was presumably going where she needed to. And most importantly, the peppermint followed wherever she went. “S’funny ‘cause…” The thought died, having never really stood a chance. “‘Cause you’re really pretty.” She was a real charmer. 

“Thanks, Catherine! Here, watch your head…” Elise helped fold her into a car passenger seat, then looped around to the driver’s side. “Y’know, I much prefer you under an enchantment. It was a bit of a bummer watching you haunt crappy bars this past week, all moody and sour.” She shuffled off two of her bracelets, both thin reflective metal bands, and slipped them onto Catherine’s wrists. 

“Wazzat?” 

“An extra precaution, sweetheart. You got a bit close to my neck back there, and I’d rather avoid that happening again. Scared the hell out of me.” Elise started the car and pulled out of her parking spot, taking the pair onward into the night. “My little peppermint trick should be wearing off soon anyways. Best to have you docile when it does.” 

Sure enough, Catherine’s wits slowly returned to her over the course of their drive. Unfortunately, her memory remained perfectly functional, and every single embarrassing moment of her defeat was seared into her mind. But while she expected the shame to bring the predator within her to life, it remained quiet and still. Even the bloodlust from her hunger had faded somewhat, leaving her coherent and indignant, yet surprisingly still calm. Any time she even considered an act of violence or disobedience, the idea was quickly smothered by a sense of passivity and sleepiness. 

“Witch,” Catherine eventually spat, attempting to show some kind of resistance. She felt absurd, sitting in the car next to an enemy and doing absolutely nothing.

“Vampyr,” Elise responded, mimicking her dramatic tone. 

The car rumbled along, engine groaning occasionally at the cold. The passing scenery looked like they were somewhere out in Queens, as far as Catherine could tell—she must have been blissed out longer than she thought. There was no point in asking, begging or negotiating. She had no cards to play, and chances were good Elise would revel in the vampire’s helplessness some more. At least Catherine would likely make it out tonight with her unlife. Such was the unwritten code of supernaturals: Stick to your own business, and in case you don’t, no offing each other. Death riled up far too many powerful folk for it to ever be worth inflicting. 

“Here we are…” Elise pulled the car in front of a cramped little suburban storefront, one that promised ‘alternative health solutions’ and, to Catherine’s great annoyance, ‘essential oils.’ Of course she lived here. God damn witches couldn’t help being tongue in cheek; at least when Catherine made self-referential gags, they had some edge and wit. She thought so, anyway. The witch exited her vehicle and beckoned Catherine forward. “Come on, I’ve got a present. Something for your trouble.”

The vampire moodily got out of the car, refusing Elise’s hand and shoving her own into her coat pockets. “What?” She’d decided she’d keep to monosyllabic words, using the least effort possible to communicate with her captor. 

“Come in, little grouch!” Chimes tinkled as Elise unlocked the front door and cheerily strode inside. Catherine shuffled in a moment later, eyes warily glancing over the contents of the store. Much as the outside suggested a multi level marketing hell, the inside was rather pleasant—small, but homey. Rugs and potted plants sat on different colored and shaped end tables, flanked by glass shelves filled with supplements, oils, herbs, and vitamins. A warm orange glow filled the room as the witch scurried about, plugging in and switching on strategically placed desk lamps and string lights. It looked…

“Cute.” The word slipped out of her mouth without much thought. She would have blushed, if she’d been able to get some blood in her. Praising her kidnapper was a new low for the night. Although she had called her pretty while blasted out of her mind on peppermint, and she didn’t exactly disagree with that assessment now…

“Thank you! Now come and get your gift!” Her voice waved out from the back room, one Catherine saw was filled with half-full metal cabinets and a small computer desk. But as she entered the back, the furniture wasn’t what caught her eye. It was the witch. She’d shed her sundress, and her curvy nude body caught the store’s moody lighting in a delicious way. Catherine’s eyes followed up her shapely calves and thick thighs to her puffy sex, then past her soft tummy and full, teardrop breasts to the shit-eating grin on her face. Elise turned her head to the side, lifting her long brown hair away from her neck. “You may eat, Catherine.” 

“O-oh.” She felt as though the bracelets had suddenly unlocked the hunger in her, and it rushed forth and blended with her weeks of loneliness to create a potent sense of need. But before she rushed forward to take the beautiful woman, a shameful thought popped into her head. The best way to truly enjoy herself, to banish any lingering ennui and moodiness so she could exist purely in the moment. “C-could I have more peppermint?” 

Elise stared at her quizzically for a moment, and Catherine couldn’t help but fidget. What a disgrace she was, how pathetic, asking to be put in that state again.

“Ah. I misjudged you, Catherine.” She winced. Leave it to her to have a sexy woman willing and naked and still screw things up. Maybe Bill hadn’t been so beneath her after all. “I fell for the tough girl act. In my defense, you pull it off very convincingly.” Elise turned to her desk, pulling open the closest drawer to grab something.

Catherine looked back at the door, feeling like dirt. “I can go, if you like.” 

Elise turned and walked back toward her, breasts swaying gently with her steps. “Nonsense. I saw you scowling at the world, looking down on others. But that’s not the real Catherine, is it?” She brought out the same little brown bottle from before and pulled out the stopper, pressing the lid against her nostril. “The real Catherine is sweet and kind. She craves affection, safety, and warmth, doesn’t she? And that’s why even though she doesn’t have to, she’s going to take a big, deep breath for me.” 

Her heart would’ve stopped if it hadn’t already. Everything the witch had listed made her stomach lurch with longing, but actually admitting her desire felt like pushing through thick mud. She was supposed to be brooding and lonely; that was the nature of her kind. And her harsh wardrobe, permanent glower and no-nonsense attitude had been carefully crafted over the course of 22 years. Did she really want to give it up for temporary pleasure? Could she? They stood there for a moment, making eye contact while the brown glass rim remained just below Catherine’s nose, until she finally looked away meekly and took a deep breath. 

“Good girl.” Elise’s words sent a thrill down her spine just before the peppermint hit. 

Away from the stench and chaos of the bar, Catherine could truly appreciate all the nuances of the enchantment. First, her skin warmed and felt flush as though she were alive once more. Then, the enhanced senses swept away her inner monologue, taking worry and doubt along with them. And finally, once she was firmly secured in the haze, warm tingles of pleasure ran up and down her torso and limbs like kittens’ paws running across piano keys. She moaned, putting her full voice into the sound of triumphant submission, and Elise was suddenly beside her. 

“A little pinch, beautiful, and then we can play…” Catherine felt a pinprick at her neck, followed by a cool ache as the witch drew some of her supernatural blood. “You’ve got a very useful reagent in those still veins of yours. Essential, even.” Catherine was happy to give. Part of her raged at the idea that she had given blood first, but the real Catherine shushed that part, assuring it that Elise only wanted what was best for her. 

“Mm’tank you,” she managed, arms and legs wiggling as the witch disrobed her.

“Of course.” Elise ran her fingers over the cool, tough skin of the vampire, who preened at the attention. “So lovely. Like my perfect marble statue. Would you like to eat now, Catherine?” She nodded, and Elise guided the pair of them down to a section of floor covered in pillows and blankets. The vampire pressed her face into Elise’s shoulder, then woozily nibbled at her collarbone. Nothing came out. Catherine found that very rude.

“Mmm s’not going.” 

Elise tsked and guided Catherine to her neck. “How on earth did you make it so long on your own…”

“Hmph.” After a few missed approaches, fangs pierced the witch’s neck, and then the room was silent save for sucking and urgent moans from both women. The taste was incredible; near electric in its power, yet tinged with the deep, earthy flavor of arousal. 

“Mmmm…”

“Not too much, beautiful.” 

“Ah…s’good. You’re…good.” Catherine pulled away, tongue bathing her companion’s neck to lap up whatever was left. Already she felt the blood warming her from the inside-out, returning her lost sensation and satisfying the eternal itch of hunger. Sensing a rare opportunity for pleasure, her hips bucked forward, grinding her pussy against Elise’s thigh. The insistent pressure blended wonderfully with her magic induced stupor and the warmth of another sharing her company. Catherine whimpered, overwhelmed with joy. 

“I know beautiful, give me a second,” Elise breathed, taking a moment to recover from the bite. “Someone needs attention while she can still feel it, am I correct?” Catherine nodded, head bobbing along with her thrusting hips. The witch gently (and then firmly, once the whining began) pushed the blissed-out girl off of her thigh, rolling over so she was on top. Her fingers traced the vampire’s petite breasts, circling her light pink nipples with the lightest touch. It was soft and kind, yet still enough to send out constant ripples of pleasure. Catherine looked up at Elise with adoring eyes. She felt truly accepted and wanted, having someone so wonderful looking down at her and gladly continuing to offer pleasurable touch. 

“D’you think I’m pretty?” Whatever filter she had between her mind and mouth had been completely dissolved by the overwhelming thrum of peppermint. 

Elise snorted. “Wow. You really needed this, didn’t you? I may have to rethink who’s doing a favor for whom.” The words didn’t strongly register with Catherine, but one element of her teasing did stand out. 

“You didn’t answer me!” 

“Yes Catherine dear, I think you are gorgeous. Even when grumpy, even when murderous, even when sad and alone in a bar, I find you breathtaking.” Catherine grinned and hummed in excitement at her words, a sound that transitioned seamlessly into a moan when Elise’s hand gripped her sopping wet pussy for a second time that night. “May I?”

“Yes!” 

On her better nights, Catherine could almost see herself as a badass vampire—a hunter in the dark, a stalker in shadow, a sultry blood hunting seductress. A dark, mysterious, and erotic creature of the night to be feared. But tonight was not one of her better nights. Tonight was one of her best nights, one where she didn’t have to pretend or force others away. One where she could lie squealing beneath a lover while her clit was rubbed and teased; one where she could submit in a way that made her feel greater rather than lesser. One where she wasn’t alone.