him to see a subtextual sexuality in everything—especially
the ritual of feeding. He wanted to gorge on the experience in all
its sensual hedonism. There was no time for a tryst tonight, but
feeding felt like foreplay. Had Angeline brought him a man for
dinner, he might have turned his nose up at the meal, not prepared to
be that adventurous yet.
A crowd formed outside The Riviera where Dean Martin headlined. It was
the tallest hotel so far on the strip. So much change was happening.
It made Hadrian philosophical. What would it be like to watch change
and growth and creation and destruction come and go? Would everything
begin to feel like the past year in Las Vegas had? The Dunes and The
Moulin Rouge had opened within a day of one another, and The Riviera
only a month before that.
He bumped into a woman walking swiftly with her head down. Her thoughts
told him her shift had just ended and she was tired of waiting for an
escort to her vehicle.
She looked up. “Oh, Father Hadrian. Would you mind walking me to my
car?” A blush tinged her cheeks at being caught out like this.
He looked at her more closely. “Mary? Is that you?” She hadn’t
been to Mass or confession in months. She wore what she usually wore
when he saw her at church: wrist-length gloves, heels, a full
billowing skirt. No one would ever mistake her for a prostitute in
innocent pale blue.
But Hadrian knew.
“I can’t believe you remember me.”
An awkwardness descended between them until Father Hadrian held his arm
out for her to loop her hand through—like a gentleman. His
gentlemanly scruples were one thing that had died the night he had,
but he hadn’t yet fallen out of practice.
Mary started to babble. “I keep meaning to come back to church. They
just always have me working all these odd hours, and when I’m off,
it’s hard to find someone to watch my boy. And it’s just too late
at night to bring him to church.”
“I understand,” he said. As they walked and she babbled on, Hadrian
only half listened. He was more interested in what she wasn’t
saying, what she really thought. He was interested in the file after
file of information on her true feelings, desires, and intentions
hidden inside her mind. He sorted through these files as they walked,
gleaning everything he needed or wanted to know. The thing that
shined brightest was her love for her son and her need to care for
him no matter the personal cost to herself.
A few doors in Mary’s mind seemed locked to him, perhaps thoughts and
feelings even she didn’t have access to, but what he’d seen was
more than enough.
They stopped at a green Chevy Styleline Special.
“Thanks for walking me and listening to my chatter. It’s almost like
confession except that we’re not in church.”
“Indeed.”
When they reached the car, Hadrian lingered. He brushed her hair away to
touch the soft, vulnerable skin of her throat. He licked his lips.
Mary sensed the undercurrents, and her mood shifted. “W-what are you
doing?”
“Absolving you.” He smiled at how creepy that must sound, what she must think
he expected her penance to be out here in this dark and deserted
parking lot. But he didn’t let her wonder for long. His fangs
descended.
She opened her mouth to scream but he locked his gaze on hers and said:
“Shhhh. I’m not going to hurt you. You’re worth saving, but I
want you to change your ways. Understand? No more selling your body
to men who don’t deserve you. You’re smart. You should have a
real job somewhere. Or find a good man at church. If you need help,
come to the church and ask.”
She smiled and nodded.
“Good girl.” Father Hadrian struck then, his fangs penetrating the column
of her throat to get to the warm, rich blood beneath. Honest guilt.
Somehow he knew this would be his favorite flavor. As he fed, he drew
her guilt and pain out along with her blood. He stopped before her
pulse slowed and sealed the wound.
“Remember what I said, but
the ritual of feeding. He wanted to gorge on the experience in all
its sensual hedonism. There was no time for a tryst tonight, but
feeding felt like foreplay. Had Angeline brought him a man for
dinner, he might have turned his nose up at the meal, not prepared to
be that adventurous yet.
A crowd formed outside The Riviera where Dean Martin headlined. It was
the tallest hotel so far on the strip. So much change was happening.
It made Hadrian philosophical. What would it be like to watch change
and growth and creation and destruction come and go? Would everything
begin to feel like the past year in Las Vegas had? The Dunes and The
Moulin Rouge had opened within a day of one another, and The Riviera
only a month before that.
He bumped into a woman walking swiftly with her head down. Her thoughts
told him her shift had just ended and she was tired of waiting for an
escort to her vehicle.
She looked up. “Oh, Father Hadrian. Would you mind walking me to my
car?” A blush tinged her cheeks at being caught out like this.
He looked at her more closely. “Mary? Is that you?” She hadn’t
been to Mass or confession in months. She wore what she usually wore
when he saw her at church: wrist-length gloves, heels, a full
billowing skirt. No one would ever mistake her for a prostitute in
innocent pale blue.
But Hadrian knew.
“I can’t believe you remember me.”
An awkwardness descended between them until Father Hadrian held his arm
out for her to loop her hand through—like a gentleman. His
gentlemanly scruples were one thing that had died the night he had,
but he hadn’t yet fallen out of practice.
Mary started to babble. “I keep meaning to come back to church. They
just always have me working all these odd hours, and when I’m off,
it’s hard to find someone to watch my boy. And it’s just too late
at night to bring him to church.”
“I understand,” he said. As they walked and she babbled on, Hadrian
only half listened. He was more interested in what she wasn’t
saying, what she really thought. He was interested in the file after
file of information on her true feelings, desires, and intentions
hidden inside her mind. He sorted through these files as they walked,
gleaning everything he needed or wanted to know. The thing that
shined brightest was her love for her son and her need to care for
him no matter the personal cost to herself.
A few doors in Mary’s mind seemed locked to him, perhaps thoughts and
feelings even she didn’t have access to, but what he’d seen was
more than enough.
They stopped at a green Chevy Styleline Special.
“Thanks for walking me and listening to my chatter. It’s almost like
confession except that we’re not in church.”
“Indeed.”
When they reached the car, Hadrian lingered. He brushed her hair away to
touch the soft, vulnerable skin of her throat. He licked his lips.
Mary sensed the undercurrents, and her mood shifted. “W-what are you
doing?”
“Absolving you.” He smiled at how creepy that must sound, what she must think
he expected her penance to be out here in this dark and deserted
parking lot. But he didn’t let her wonder for long. His fangs
descended.
She opened her mouth to scream but he locked his gaze on hers and said:
“Shhhh. I’m not going to hurt you. You’re worth saving, but I
want you to change your ways. Understand? No more selling your body
to men who don’t deserve you. You’re smart. You should have a
real job somewhere. Or find a good man at church. If you need help,
come to the church and ask.”
She smiled and nodded.
“Good girl.” Father Hadrian struck then, his fangs penetrating the column
of her throat to get to the warm, rich blood beneath. Honest guilt.
Somehow he knew this would be his favorite flavor. As he fed, he drew
her guilt and pain out along with her blood. He stopped before her
pulse slowed and sealed the wound.
“Remember what I said, but
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