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I will not rest until I find her. No matter what I have to do, I will find you, Elsbeth Abernathy.
I close the journal, crying the tears I’ve held in for solong. “I’m sorry, Thorne,” I whisper into the pages. “I’m sorry I was never found.” I cry for both of us.
A soft knock on the door brings me back to reality. “Elsie, dear. Are you okay?”
I wipe the tears from my stained face. “I’m fine, Ms. Francis. Just had a bad dream.”
She’s quiet so long, I’m convinced she’s left. “If you’re sure then. I thought I heard crying. Would you like a glass of milk to help you go back to sleep?"
"No, thank you.”
“Good night,” she says through the closed door.
“Good night,” I answer.
I don’t need shrimp and grits or milk. What I need is blood. It’s been a while since I’ve eaten, and being surrounded by humans is making it more difficult. I carefully close the journal and place it in the drawer beside the bed.
Leaving through the window, I’m on Battery Street seconds later. I need to eat, but I refuse to harm anyone. I find a nearby bar full of people. Making my way inside, I focus on keeping my energy hidden.
It doesn’t take long before someone bites.
“Hey, sexy. Are you alone?”
I turn, finding a middle-aged man who reeks of alcohol and sex. I smile. “Not anymore.” I pat the empty stool next to me.
“Are you old enough to be in a bar?” he asks.
“What they don’t know won’t hurt them.” I wink. “Why don’t you buy me a drink, and we’ll see how old I really am?”
The man smiles, revealing a mouth full of yellow teeth. “That’s a plan. I like them young anyway.”
He raises a hand in the air. “Two shots.” The bartender nods in his direction before bringing two small glasses of brown liquid to us. I fight the urge to roll my eyes at the cheap drink he just purchased. I down the glass in one gulp, slamming it on the bar in front of me.
“Damn, girl. Slow down a little. I don’t want you too drunk to suck my dick.”
I laugh at the irony. “That’s not all I’m going to suck.”
He raises his hand, ordering two more shots. I mimic my behavior from before, this time pretending to sway on my barstool. “Oh, my. Maybe you were right. I should’ve slowed down a little.” I turn off the Scottish brogue that has been with me for three hundred years, turning it into the drunk Southern girl.
“Why don’t we get out of here?”
“Not until you buy me one more drink.”
He laughs, raising his hand in the air. I copy my movements from before, this time pretending to nearly fall off the stool. The man wraps his arm around me, pulling me away from the bar and toward the door. Once outside, I keep up the facade as he guides me into a small alleyway, not far from the main street.
“I need payment for those drinks.”
I reach into my pocket, handing him a five-dollar bill.
“Five dollars? Those drinks are worth much more than that. I know the perfect way for you to repay me.” He unzips his pants and pulls down the faded boxers he’s wearing.
“I’d rather suck something else.”
He smiles. “I thought you were joking.” He lowers his pants to his ankles, exposing himself to anyone passing by.
Wrapping my hand around his neck, I turn him around, shoving his body into the brick of the building. A split second later, I’m on top of him, drinking the warmth from his neck. A deep sigh escapes as I fill my need with him.
Something moves not far away, stopping me from taking every last drop. I turn, seeing nothing there. The man in front of me is still breathing. “Shit, what are you doing, Elsie?” I ask no one. Releasing his body, I allow him to slide to the ground. He’s breathing and will live another day.
