I went into the forest after him, tracking him by both the musky scent of his unwashed body and the sounds of his desperate and panicked flight. I did not bother to rush. His eyesight was not anywhere near as keen as mine under the densely clustered trees. I heard him falling over a root or a downed branch. He must have hurt himself when he fell, as his gait changed to something more lumbering. I kept after him, calling out to him every so often to remind him that I had not given up my pursuit, though I dragged things out a bit. I wanted him terrified and exhausted by the time I caught up with him. It would make him that much more careless when we resumed our fight.
I kept him moving for another hour or so before I tired of the chase and closed the distance between us. I could hear him gasping and muttering under his breath in his own language. Perhaps he was praying. I have no idea. He was weaponless now, so I was a bit more brazen in my approach, confident that he was too hysterical to think clearly.
"Well, hello again," I said as I stepped closely enough to him that he could easily see me. He started in shock, his eyes wide and staring. His heartbeat thudded in my ears like a frantic rapping at the door.
The man tried to muster some of his previous bravado, but fell far short. He swung his fist at me, but still under the influence of so much drink, miscalculated and fell forward into my arms. Pulling him in close to me, I drank deep of his scent, his terror perfuming the air more strongly than any aphrodisiac. Needing to address the wounds he had given me, my body screamed at me to feed. It was obvious to me that fresh blood was the catalyst I needed to heal my wounds.
Well, with this one, I could feed a bit more leisurely and I would.
"I guess I'll take my time with you, as you did with that young woman. She is still alive, by the way. So sorry to disappoint," I told him with patently false regret. "Your friends had quick deaths, compared to what yours will be."
I ran my tongue along his cheek, where he had been scratched, more for effect than anything else, as the taste of the blood there was foul. It succeeded in its intent, leaving him whimpering in terror and causing him to foul himself as his bladder let go.
As he was the only one left at this point, I had no need to muffle his screams, which echoed long into the night as I killed him a sip at a time.
You can read more when "Siofra" is released for Amazon Kindle in January of 2012!