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Jasmine

That first red blush—the kiss. O kiss these virgin lips of rose and thorns! A drop of blood drips down her chin and falls into his open palm. He kneels and laps it up, then raises his head to stare into her sweet jasmine eyes. He grabs her palm and gently pulls her down in front of him. He stares at the pulse beating wildly in her neck. He can sense the slight vibrations there—her heart pumping blood through her veins. He lowers her to the ground, bends over her and kisses her softly. The kiss precedes the bite. His fangs sink deep into her jelly neck. He’s wild with hot blood expectations but there’s nothing.

He shrieks—yanks back in shock. Her heart is pumping dry! She stares back up at him with jasmine eyes that hold a vacuum. He feels himself being sucked in deeply. To think a moment ago she was the victim. But he enjoys playing the part of victim for once in his life. Her intense gaze drags him in, mesmerized.

Now he is in a strange jasmine world. The sweet yellow flower smell fills the cavern. It is dark but he can see with his vampire night vision. He stares hungrily through the night into jasmine flowers. A bee flies over and lands on him—the fatal sting and he is captured! His soul becomes hers. TO THINK SHE WAS THE VICTIM???

He cannot hold the night anymore. She loves him. She loves him. To think she was the victim and now she owns him—he belongs. So he desists and gives her his soul. Then he’s out and there she is, drained, dead, cold and lifeless on the ground, and the taste of her blood is in his mouth.
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