Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Keiran
I feel her before she even fully enters the house.
The air ripples with anticipation. It’s not often my prey comes to me.
How…fortuitous. My eyes close as I breathe in the fear that is absolutely radiating off of her in waves like heat off a pavement.
I clench my teeth to hold back the groan that wants to escape at the smell of her.
God, how I’ve missed it. Not that God has anything to do with it.
I chuckle at my own joke. Also, it hasn’t even been that long, but minutes without blood on my hands is a minute too long.
I linger behind her, far enough that she hopefully won’t feel my presence but close enough to study her in the dark of the house.
Her short black bob just hits her chin, slightly wavy, as if she intentionally styled it that way.
Usually I prefer long hair; it’s better to grip while she’s fighting, but, hey, I won’t look a gift horse in the mouth.
She has a small nose and full lips; her slightly upturned eyes give her an innocent, pixieish look.
She’s pretty. I observe, at a distance, as if noticing nice weather.
Looks have never really been a factor for me, probably has something to do with the fact that attraction usually comes with emotions that I am no longer capable of having.
If I ever truly could. Father made sure of that.
I shake thoughts of him from my mind. The scars along my back tug at the tight skin, and I roll my shoulders to release the tension.
“Let’s not ruin a good thing, shall we?” I grumble to myself.
Irritated that I’d let him slip into my mind.
What is the good of death if he can still haunt me?
Once she is far enough into the house, I use my rage to slam the door behind her.
Her screams echo off the walls of the barren house, and I swear it gives me a chub.
She whips around, her hair flying into her face with the force.
Her fear spikes higher, and I let it feed me.
Along with something else… something distinctly…
sweet. My brows furrow, curiosity piqued.
I watch as her breasts bounce with each rapid breath she takes, trying to temper her fear.
I notice the badge dangling from her neck.
Esmer from . Now that just won’t do. A smirk tilts my lips as I move to stand behind her as she studies the door like it personally offended her.
I lean into her ear, making sure she can hear me as I project my voice from the beyond.
“Are you here for me, little reporter?” I see the shiver race down her spine at my words as she stumbles away, tripping over a spindle that has fallen from the broken staircase.
A whimper escapes her as her knees slam into the hard floor, and I can’t tell if it’s from pain or fear or maybe arousal, and now my cock is fully hard.
She will be fun to play with, much more fun than the last two.
They were sorely lacking. They barely even put up a fight, such a shame really, what a waste of my omnipresent energy.
I have a good feeling about this one, though.
“Where the fuck are you?!” She shouts, her fear morphing into anger. Further proving my theory, I smile.
I brush my fingers over her cheek, allowing her to feel the icy tips against her heated skin. She jerks back, still on her hands and knees. Her round ass up and ready for me. Already asking to get fucked.
“What the fuck,” she whispers under her breath, her brain obviously having trouble processing her current situation.
That’s fine. She has plenty of time because I plan to play.
Stepping back, I give her room to stand, allowing her to form her own conclusions, which will likely be that she’s going crazy.
The thought brings another smile to my lips.
Sweet little reporter, she isn’t yet…but.