Page 5 of Midnight Queen

With a scared squeaking noise, she finally grabs her discarded purse from the ground and flees. I don’t watch as she leaves, but I wait until the sound of her cheap high heels clicking against the cement are just a distant noise. Not once does my grip loosen on the fucker’s neck. His erratic pulse thuds against my fingertips as his pounding heart pushes blood through his veins.

He tries to move away from me, but it’s no use. Like a bug caught in a spider web, all he can do is wait for his end. One that is coming sooner than he may suspect.

“Do you think you’re powerful?” I coldly ask him, my voice eerily calm. “What about now? Do you still feel invincible?”

When he doesn’t answer me in a timely manner like I wish he would, I whirl him around and shove him into the concrete wall of the garage. His brown eyes are wide and dazed as he finally faces me. Just like he’d done to the woman, his face is now bleeding. His nose, one that is already disproportionately large for his face, is now crooked and bleeding. His lips part as if he’s attempting to form words, but it appears he may have lost the ability. Fear is useful like that. It makes my victims lose their faculties—makes them easier to hunt and kill.

I’ve always said I prefer to be respected, but when I can’t get that, I’ll gladly take their fear. Right now, I’m going to savor it.

“You didn’t answer me,” I sneer at him. The burning in my gums intensifies as my fangs finally descend. His eyes instantly lock on them, and his olive skin blanches to a ghostly hue. “Does it make you feel powerful to make women bleed? Do you get off on their tears and their cries?”

He shakes his head in small jerky movements. “I-I didn’t—”

Before he has the chance to finish lying to me, I grab the collar of his shirt and yank him roughly toward me. “I don’t much care for liars, and really, there isn’t any reason for you to lie to me. Your fate has been sealed.” I drag my eyes over him, analyzing him. “At this point, I’m being ill mannered and simply playing with my food.”

A whimpering sound comes from his throat as he chokes on his fear. “What are you?” he whispers.

I am death. I am the monster that people pray to their saviors to keep away. I am the reason children fear the dark. And I am just a man who’s had his light stolen from him.

“I’m many things,” I finally tell him. “But tonight, I’m simply your lesson. You have no idea what that girl means to someone. She could be their entire world—the reason they breathe—and youharmedher. Spilled her blood. It’s a shame they aren’t here to punish you themselves. I am more than willing to step up in their place though. I’ve been itching to get my hands a little dirty tonight.”

Control. It’s something that I pride myself on. How am I supposed to hold any authority over my subjects if I allow my carnal side to dictate my moves? I need to keep a clear mind and think thoroughly through each decision. Tonight, rationality and restraint have failed me. The second I discovered her missing, the chains on my control have been loosening.

And now, that side of me has been set free and the monster is rearing its ugly head.

“No one loves her,” He chokes out. Not once do his eyes drift away from the sharp points of my fangs. “She’s just a whore. Cheap pussy.”

“Those are truly an unfortunate choice of last words.”

My sinister smile is the last thing he sees before I’m yanking his head to the side and exposing his throat.

It’s been a long time since I’ve killed while I’ve fed. For years, I’ve stuck to blood bags and designated feeders, like the women working at Rowena’s, but tonight I’m craving the sensation of my prey’s heartbeat slowing.

His fingernails claw at my suit jacket as he tries to fight me off, but I don’t budge. He cries out, the sound echoing through the empty building and fueling the beast inside. There is a way to feed without making it painful, but he doesn’t deserve to feel how euphoric this could be. He deserves to feel each agonizing second as I take everything from him.

With each greedy pull from his arteries, strength fills my deprived muscles and bones. Newfound energy rushes through my veins and my body comes alive with power. I’m not sure if I forced myself to forget how intoxicating the rush is that comes from hunting and killing my prey, but as I ingest every drop his body has to offer, I’m quickly reminded of the delightful sensation. While I drink from him, my mind fills with illicit thoughts of my next kill and that’s when I also remember just how addictive it is.

Eventually he stops fighting me and goes slack in my arms. I don’t stop feasting when his arms fall limply at his sides, or his knees give out. I easily keep him held up and at the height I need him at.

It’s only a matter of minutes before his veins are dry and his heart matches mine. Still and forever silent. With my hunger sated but my anger still burning inside of me, I drop the body. It lands on the oil-stained ground in a crumpled heap.

My eyes are locked on the single drop of blood that trails slowly out of one of the puncture wounds on his neck. The crimson trail calls to me, despite the large amount I’d just consumed. My jaw clenches, my fangs still burning with an uncontrollable hunger.

The hard part isn’t losing control, it’s finding the strength to regain it.

Regret for what I’ve just done begins to shine through as the bloodthirsty haze begins to disperse. It’s not regret for the fact I’ve just taken a life. No, this man’s life meant nothing to me, and my city is better off without him. It’s regret for the mess that I’ve just made. Typically, I would not have thought twice about the carnage, but that was solely due to the fact I knew I could trust Duke to clean it up. Something I’m realizing I’ve taken for granted.

I’m slowly coming to terms with the fact I’ve taken a lot of things for granted. I foolishly believed that the power I wielded would keep the things that mattered to me safe, that my years establishing my ruthless reign would keep my enemies at bay. It appears I was wrong, and I’ve grown too soft. Somehow too lenient. Once I’m able to think past the aching void in my chest, things will be changing. If they thought I was merciless before, they will learn it was child’s play.

Slow clapping from somewhere behind me finally forces my attention away from the body and my thoughts. My spine goes rigid as each of my senses goes on high alert. It’s not till the familiar scent of tobacco and whiskey washes over me do I relax. No matter how many years go by, it’s always the same.

Taking a step away from the corpse, I use the back of my hand to wipe away the blood lingering on my mouth. “You’re late,” I tell him while casually straightening my black suit jacket.

He makes a scoffing noise. “On the contrary, I do believe I’m just on time. Had I been here earlier, I would have missed the show. A truly marvelous show at that.” I don’t have to look at him to know there’s a grin on his smug face. “And that would have been quite the shame. You know how I find you so much more tolerable when you let loose a little bit. Had I known this was all it took for you to relax and have some fun, I would have taken the girl myself.”

The girl.

Quincey.

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