I spent the better half of two days researching everything I could find about James Weston, from scouring the Internet to following him around silently, observing. Much like hunting prey, I stalked him. He has an ex-wife, living off his fortune via a sizable alimony settlement in California, and new, younger wife living with him here in Las Vegas with strangely colored hair. Being as old as I am, there are some fashion trends I cannot get behind, and young women dyeing their hair an odd silver gray prematurely is one of them. The most fruitful bit of my research was finding out Weston has a daughter. A beautiful, socialite daughter, who looks to be my ticket to getting what I want.

Though I found her incredibly attractive when I came across her pictures, she appears as empty as most humans, if not more. She had managed to get herself a business degree in college; however, it seems she is doing nothing more than socializing, shopping and spending her father’s money, which leads me to believe she is definitely daddy’s little girl. Perfect for me. Girls who dote on their fathers are generally easily swayed by my inherent charm, and I plan to make sure she is no different. Win the favor or even the lust of the daughter— get my casino. The perfect plan.

With my plan in place, I set out to run into her in a seemingly accidental manner. It continues to baffle me how easily you can find out about people on the Internet, which informed me that she hung out at a swanky pool club many afternoons, and fortunately for me, I have a friend who works there as a waiter. As luck would have it, she’s exactly where her social media account said she was: with friends, and much to my delight they’re talking about sleeping with vampires.

Grinning, I continue to listen from afar, blocking out the other mindless chatter surrounding me. This group of women is the only thing interesting me right now, and I really want to know what they have planned for the rest of their afternoon.

The fact she has no real opinion on vampires bodes well in my favor. I can use this to my advantage, striking up a conversation and putting her at ease before I go in for the kill, so to speak. It’s her initial reaction to her friend spilling the little tidbit about sleeping with a vampire that has me leaning forward even though it’s unnecessary for me to do so. I observe the way her body reacts to her friend’s tale of a romp in a locker room with a vampire. I can feel her intrigue, but also her heart rate increases as though she’s nervous in some way, which piques my interest. She’s never been with a vampire, but she’s thought about it. I can feel a smirk form, knowing that I’m going to charm her. I think it will be rather enjoyable.

At first glance, it may seem callous or cold to target her, but it’s not like she’s some kind of saint. I am positioning myself to run into her shopping for Louis Vuitton for Christ’s sake, which sounds like she has plenty of, simply because they’re releasing new items today. If that isn’t the vainest and superfluous way to spend a Thursday afternoon, I don’t know what is. As I wait to stalk them shopping, I wonder what is taking them so long to get ready.

It’s easy to go unnoticed in Las Vegas, getting lost in the crowds, which is why it’s one of my favorite cities that I’ve lived in over the years. With new faces every day, I blend in easily, walking among the humans, with the exception of my mark. Each of us is branded with the Mark of the Fates, from the day we are born again as vampires. Much of the lore in the movies and in the media is complete bullshit. The reality is, we vampires have our own hierarchy and societal expectations to abide by, far outside of the rules we agree to follow amongst the humans. We all used to be human at one point, this much is true. But I can follow the girls in broad daylight; I won’t burst into flames or sparkle for that matter, and with the exception of my very pale skin, and my Mark of the Fates, I can go undetected as a human if I choose to, which generally I do.

I’m a businessman by nature, and I’ve never been a controversial vampire. When I first turned, I had a bit of fun running around before there were any understandings between vampires and humans, but I’ve never fed on anyone without their permission. I never wanted to be a poster child or role model of any kind for vampires either. I’ve always enjoyed starting new businesses, successful companies or ventures that I build myself. The satisfaction of creating something that lives on has lit a fire in me for as long as I can remember. Many, in fact, most, vampires are wealthy because over time we invest, and we live to see the fruits of our labor. This casino is important to me. More than any of the other enterprises I’ve taken on.

I see her through the window of the store; her shiny blonde hair is held out of her face with designer sunglasses perched on her head, thankful her vampire-hating friend known as Leslie decided not to join her. Fiona’s tongue darts out, wetting her plump pink lips, toying with the cross dangling from her neck. The rule is if someone wears a cross, they’re off limits from our compulsion, which means I’m going to have to spend time getting to know her. Leaving us no choice but to meet and talk.

As I continue to observe her fondling the new purses with her friend, Lana, I formulate how I’ll do it. Approaching her now isn’t going to work. I need a new plan, a moment where Fiona Weston happens to me and not the other way around.

“So Fiona, what’s this party for exactly?” I turn sharply when I hear this question. I heard mention of a party earlier but brushed it off as another socialite function meant to bore me until now. This is where I could spend time with her. I need to get an invitation to this party.

I continue to listen, hoping to find out more when the friend called Lana brings up the very event. “It’s a gathering of investors. People with too much money and time on their hands who want to throw millions at the casinos. There’s a few of them that are for sale you know, so people are always looking for money.”

“Wait, there are casinos for sale?” she asks, seeming surprised. All I can think is how ill-informed this lot is.

“Of course there are. There always are. It’s not like the casinos hammer a sign out in front of them though, geez. We’re talking about millions of dollars here. There’s got to be wheeling and dealing with anything in Vegas.” Fiona laughs. She seems to understand how things work, but it’s likely because she’s overheard it from her father.

“Well then, how do people know anything is for sale?”

“Because it’s not for sale to just anyone. This party is for those people to get to know each other and talk about what’s available and that sort of thing. It’s like a mixer for investors and casinos, in this case, looking for investors. Essentially, it’s a private gathering for all of these people to spend money and find new people to make money with. And, they all know my dad of course.” It seems perhaps she knows a bit more about business than I initially gave her credit for.

I continue to listen as the girls discuss the party, which I’m now certain is where I’ll make inroads with this pretty little thing. After they’ve spent more money on bags than most people in Las Vegas make in a week, they part ways, each stating they need to be somewhere else. Realizing this could be my chance, I wait for her to make her way from the store. My luck keeps getting better and better.

Fiona walks with determination, weaving in and out of the crowd, holding her shopping bags close. Her toned body is impossible to ignore, her skirt is skimming just below her round ass, and her tank top is completely cut out in the back, indicating there’s no bra under there. I can’t help but to ogle her as I saunter through the crowd myself, finally stopping as she enters a coffee shop. Before going in, I wait.

She orders a caramel latte and takes a seat farthest away from the window, tucking her newly purchased items against the wall. I go in and inhale deeply, even though I don’t need to. I love the smell of coffee, and I tend to make one at home from time to time, just to enjoy the scent as it reminds me of a cross between vanilla beans and fresh soil. There’s something lovely about it, and it’s a smell that’s been around for as long as I can remember.

With a cup of black coffee in my hand, I seek out the empty seat next to her. “Is this seat taken?” I ask in a smooth tone.

When her eyes meet mine, I feel as though I’m being compelled for just a moment. The icy blue color shines right through me as she looks up from her book. “Um, no. Please help yourself.” She motions at the chair before turning her attention back to her novel.

Taking the seat next to her, I see what she’s reading, but am unfamiliar with the words, and by chance, the title on the page is covered. Everything about her is too perfect. Her nails, makeup, and hair. Her vain superficiality turns my stomach, but I remind myself I have a goal to accomplish, and it’s to find myself in her favor. Regardless of how human she is.

“You look familiar; have we met?” I ask.

Looking annoyed at the interruption, she replies without looking at me again. “I don’t believe so.”

Becoming further frustrated with her disinterest, I continue. “I’m certain that we have. Aren’t you hosting the party this weekend for casino investors?”

Now that I’ve piqued her interest, she sets her book down and attempts to turn on her business charm. Her eyes move over me as she tries to remember where we’ve met before. “My apologies, but I don’t recall meeting you. Are you planning to attend the event?” She forms a fake smile.

“I am hoping to attend, yes.”

“Well, that will be lovely, Mr….?”

“Roman.” I hold my hand out to her, watching her body language shift when she feels the cold of my touch. As if on cue, she reaches up to fondle the cross that dangles at her neck.

“Mr… Roman,” she repeats quietly. She’s intriguing, watching my every move, studying me. I already know she’s never had contact with a vampire directly, that she’s aware of, so this encounter, friendly and short, is just enough. I’ve left my first impression, and stand to take leave.

“I’ll see you this weekend, Miss Weston.” I leave her sitting there without another glance. Only when I look back, she’s still touching her neck. My distaste for humans like her has not waned, regardless of her beauty. She judges me without knowing anything at all, and for that, I shall take what I need from her. Within reason, of course.

The next task on my agenda is to secure an invitation to her event where I’ll make my next move. Vampires are so well connected in every city, I easily could’ve arranged the invitation without meeting her to begin with, but planting the seed of intrigue is far more seductive than following her like a puppy at her event trying to meet her for the first time. As I leave the mall, I shut out everything around me, and focus on the sound of her rapid heartbeat.