*which

There's always a moment where you question your actions. Right now, I wonder whether following Inna is justified. The trouble is I am unable to stop; her hemoglobin has got me twisted. It's stronger than me; I need a dose of it daily.

Blood.

Hers must be as dark and sweet as aging wine. Nor thick or fluid, the perfect balance. As always, I swallow the build-up of saliva that invades my mouth.

The situation is a source of stress which fills me with joy. It has been an eternity since anything has aroused my senses. If only Inna did not wear the pendant, I would drink her.

What frightens me is that Seconds and other Firsts can catch the scent. I have witnessed the wave of panic and frustration Inna causes. The vampire's nostrils flare, and their eyes dart like a swinging pendulum of a metronome in search of the provenance of the alluring scent. Inna would be dead, sucked dry to the bone, and licked spotless without the artifact. This fact makes me wonder how she managed to live so long.

For Inna's protection and my peace of mind, I've cloaked her with an artificial fragrance close to mine; it seems to work on Seconds.

Apart from that, Inna is intriguing, but most women of this century are. Women have come a long way, freed from husbands and father's grasps; women are educated and independent. Many have even adopted sexuality similar to ours. Vampire's sexuality is not confounded to gender but to lust. Inna is a woman of her era and not a silly one. She listens, observes; also, she appears to have a balanced psyche, at least from what I note, how I would love to wander in her mind.

Angst and fear are good, but inhaling kindness from time to time does not harm, especially when someone is overflowing with it. Me taking a snack leaves their emotional balance unaffected. Inna startled me when she began to speak in sign language. With telepathy, I needn't seek another communication canal. Thanks to my immortality, I have learned a few different tongues. Sign language is one of them as some Strigois also use it. The gesture touched me in a particular type of way. At that instant, I wished to speak, and I tried not because of her but for her. To award Inna for her effort, but I failed. What did I expect? I haven't spoken for almost three centuries.

Now that I have seen her few times, I admit she is she's catchy. Not blunt sexy like Aurora but in her subtle way. Inna has beautiful teeth; we Strigoi are quite attached to the feature. And she has her baby skin, which she rarely paints with makeup like a kabuki actor. I say this, but I do consent to the fact that my lust for her blood heightens this attraction.

Even her stare hides sensuality. I don't know if Inna is aware of her appeal; it would not surprise me if she did not. A part of my infatuation comes from the fact I can not enter her mind or touch her because of the charm. Not knowing someone's thoughts is something that scares me. The trauma dates back to my enthronement. Here I find the unknown reassuring. Women are such secretive beings that even is laid back attitude could be a ploy to seduce, but I doubt it. Inna's the type of girl who appeals to any mortal just by being herself.

One can only empathize with Aurora having all the sex appeal she has, and seeing the basic best friend get the attention must get to your system after a while.

Inna is just taking a bite out of life now, liberated from her Ex, who spoiled her existence. I got a glimpse of the man in Aurora's mind. The infamous wart, with his long hair and mustache, reminds me of Jesus.

Speaking of which, I wonder when I'll see Jesus again. If mortals see Jesus as their savior, mine is a royal pain.

My brother and I do not swear by the same philosophy concerning life. It's healthy as two distinct individuals. The only issue is that he attempts to convert and pervert me to his ways in a tiresome process, draining my patience. Many are glad I was chosen over him to rule; leaving our community to Jesus would be as irreverent as the name he carries. I mean, Lucifer would have been a more logical choice in tune with what people perceive of us.

No, my brother chose to name himself Jesus saying he desired the most famous name around. It was either that Buddha, Mandela, JFK, or Micheal Jordan. He even thought of Atilla to give a little idea of my brother's megalomaniac personality.

"Mephisto."

"Yes, boss."

"When is Jesus's concert in town?"

"A week from now, boss," Mephisto answers as he turns the wheel of my home game simulator.

The days are long for vampires. If my head is not swimming between a book's pages, such things as this inbuilt arcade are good distractions. Mephisto suggested me to get this. Being the owner of a building from the parlor to the rooftop has certain advantages. At the time, it did not occur to me that it would serve Mephisto more than it helped me.

"Why, Boss?" Mephisto asks, getting out of the cockpit.

"Inna, if I'm going up the wall over her blood type, Jesus will go berserk," I say as I stride up my wall to find myself standing upside down at the corner of the room from Mephisto's position.

"I see your point, boss," Mephisto says while he looks up at me, "boss, do you have to do that?"

Poor Mephisto, the boy, lives the weirdest experiences with me. Many apprentices before him fled when I did things like this, but Mephisto shrugs off my trick as though it's a simple moonwalk.

"It helps me think, by the way, nice color," I reply as I cross my arms and close my eyes. Mephisto has opted for pink hair color, I'm used to the antics on his hair, and I comprehend his despair. When immortal such changes are a mere reboot as the newness effect founds itself amortized.

"Oh, thanks, Boss; since you're in a thinking mood, what should we do about the bats?"

My royal suit protects and alerts me of dangers, only nobles possess them, and I have more than all the other family members. Since I've arrived here, let's say the bats made themselves at home. Anyway, there's not much I can do. Even my basement is cramped.

The local authorities, without compassion, try to get rid of the Chiroptera by killing them. It breaks my heart, for they are faithful companions. Soon the issue will be amplified as Jesus will be in town with his followers. The bats are an issue I have to deal with, but right now, my priority is figuring out how to keep Inna out of Jesus's radar while he is in Crimson.

One thing is sure she does not seem to be a Tempest fangirl, which would be the worst scenario ever. There are as many vampires as humans, who are my brother's fans; my mind races as I imagine Inna stuck in Jesus' concert in a remake of Tarantino's From Dusk Till Dawn.

Tempest's concert is not a place where I desire to appear. I sigh and leave the arcade; Mephisto follows me as I go to my dressing.

"Where are we going, boss?"

"To her workplace."

"Whose?"

The question embarrasses me for no reason at all.

"Eh, Chocolate Cosmos."

"Is that how she smells, or are you referring to the manga?

"The flowers," as I slide the hangers on the rack of my shirts, I have a sudden change of mind, and Aurora becomes my objective. Now I've interacted with her. I'm afraid to have opened Pandora's box.

The suit I pick is androgynous, inspired by Hedi Sliman with a structured fit and clingy pants. Its sophistication corresponds to Aurora's expectations.

Mephisto whistles at my choice, "I see you're going all-out, Boss, but that girl didn't seem to appreciate us. Be careful with the mirrors at the mall."