Chapter Three
Rhys
The doorbell rang. At least I thought it was the doorbell. I’d never lived in a home that had one before.
Putting aside the book I’d purchased at the shop down the street, I got to my feet, went to the door, and put my eye to the peephole. Even though Cornelius had been dead for nearly a year now, my suspicious tendencies had yet to be broken.
A woman stood on the porch, her head bowed. All I could see was a tumble of dark brown hair and a bundle of flowers clutched in her hands.
Sensing no danger, I unlocked the door. Her head lifted as the door swung open and I stopped moving as surprise washed over me. I could see her aura. Despite my abilities to see into the spirit of a person, I very rarely saw auras. Every person I’d met who had a visible aura had been remarkable in some way or another.
Good or evil, their abilities or personality were stronger than a typical human’s.
However, I had never seen an aura like hers before. White light radiated around her body, shot through with threads in a rainbow of colors, as though she experienced every emotion simultaneously. Except around her head. Shades of grey, brown, and black surrounded her skull like a halo. Thin strips of red shimmered among the darkness. She was in pain. For some reason that realization upset me. I didn’t like the idea of this woman hurting in any way.
My eyes focused on her face and very little of that discomfort showed in her expression. Her brown eyes were wide, staring back at me in surprise, but she recovered quickly.
“Uh, hi, my name is Savannah Baker. I live across the street. I work for Ava and she mentioned that you moved in, so I thought I would introduce myself. I mean, she suggested that I introduce myself because you just moved here and you haven’t had a chance to make friends yet.” Her eyes widened again and a bright pink flush spread intriguingly from her cheeks down her neck, to cover the skin of her chest that was exposed by the slim straps of her dress. My eyes wanted to linger on the vee neckline as I wondered exactly how far down the blush extended, but the choked sound she made caught my attention. “And I’m babbling. I’m sorry.”
Savannah lifted the bouquet toward me. “Anyway, I just wanted to bring you some flowers from my garden as sort of a welcome to the neighborhood.”
I stared blankly at the colorful explosion of blooms she held out for a moment and then realized I was supposed to take it. I lifted my hands, my fingertips brushing hers as I took possession of the glass vase she held.
She made another sound, almost a squeak, and released the vase before I held it securely. Quickly, I grabbed the glass before it crashed to the porch, droplets of water splashing my hands and forearms.
“Oh, my God, I’m sorry,” she groaned. “I’m glad you caught that.” Savannah hesitated, cleared her throat, and gestured to the house opposite us. “Anyway, I live right across the street. If you need anything or want someone to show you around, feel free to knock on my door any time.”
I studied her face as another brilliant blush washed over her pale skin, highlighting the freckles on her nose and cheeks. She lowered her lashes, shielding her eyes from me. Immediately I felt the loss of her gaze, which also surprised me. I liked the idea of her eyes on mine. I wanted her to look at me again and never look away. I inhaled sharply at the thought. Determined, I shook it off and studied the small woman standing on my porch.
Now that I was no longer dumbstruck by her aura, I noticed that Savannah Baker was a very pretty woman. Her dark hair flowed down her back in long waves and the freckles that dotted her cheeks were also visible on her chest and shoulders as well. The loose dress she wore hid most of her figure and legs, but I could see the curves of her breasts and hips beneath the material and I knew she would be soft in all the right places.
The sudden rush of attraction took me by surprise. It had been a long time since I’d felt anything other than tepid interest in a woman.
“Okay, so it was nice to meet you and I’m just gonna go,” she murmured, stepping back.
My first instinct was to stop her. I didn’t want her to leave. I opened my mouth to ask her to stay, to come inside, but she kept speaking.
“I hope you enjoy the house. Ava is a really good landlord. I’ve been renting from her for a few years. If you have any problems, just give her a call and she’ll get them taken care of quickly. Enjoy the flowers.”
With that, she turned and scurried down the steps as I stood frozen on the porch, still holding the flowers aloft. I could hear her muttering beneath her breath as she walked away and it sounded as if she said, “Way to make an idiot of yourself, Savannah.”
It wasn’t until she’d crossed the street and disappeared into her own house that I realized I hadn’t spoken a single word the entire time she’d been here. She likely thought I was rude or peculiar.
I carried the flowers inside and shut the front door. I wanted to walk across the street and tell her my name. I wanted to talk to her longer, learn more about her. I wanted her to look at me again because, with her eyes on me, I felt as though someone was truly seeing me for the first time. Savannah Baker interested me more than any other person I’d met in a few decades.
Strangely, I was unsure what to do. I avoided people, even women. The need to feed was the only reason I would bother to talk to anyone, and even then I chose those who carried excess pain or torment. This was an alien situation.
Feeding was always a tricky process. Gaius had made me into a vampire of sorts. I needed to feed off the very life force of a person rather than their blood. Essentially, devouring their soul. Cornelius, my brother, would consume a soul in its entirety. He believed it gave him greater power. He was right, but it increased his madness and deepened his conviction that he could become a god among humans and supernatural creatures alike.
I discovered long ago that feeding from the pain of others would keep me alive. It wasn’t as potent, but it kept me from fading away. It also relieved the suffering of my victim. Yes, even though I hoped to help them, I still considered the people I fed from to be my victims. Emotional vampirism was still an invasion, still a theft of life force.
By choosing those who were in agony, I could live with what I did. I was probably deluding myself, but it helped me come to terms with what I was. What I still am. Not completely human, yet not the monster my brother had become. No, I was a monster of a different sort.
Moving slowly, I carried the flowers into the living room and set them on the table in front of the chair I’d been sitting in earlier. I sat down and stared at the colorful blooms. They reminded me of Savannah’s aura. Every color of the rainbow was represented and they were vibrant, almost shimmering with life.
A strange sensation settled in my chest, a heaviness that made it difficult to breathe. I needed to avoid Savannah Baker, regardless of how interesting I found her. It was for the best.