The neighborhood was fully awake now with cars leaving and children yelling, running down the sidewalk. Ansuya calmly walked out from the bushes stepped back onto the sidewalk. Even though this earned her the stares of many of the children and some of the adults as they looked away and got in their cars.

Ansuya’s mother had never worn a red sari and there was no reason why her memories of her should have her dressed in a red sari. That color was reserved for very special occasions in her culture and religion, usually only when a woman got married, did she wear red. Her mind reformed and hardened around this fact. This place, this neighborhood was just as fabricated. Her mind focused on her memories, and she walked slowly and deliberately down the street.

Kenneth gritted his teeth and nearly broke his arm rest with his fist. He seethed in fury for long moments. The fire in his mind and gullet would not subside and he launched himself out of his chair, knocking it aside as he howled in rage. The chair sailed through the air to explode in a shower of splinters and leather against the far wall. His chest heaved up and down as he forced air to fill his dead lungs. Everything in the room had taken on a strange red tint that only seemed to increase his fury.

His muscles flexed and his mind was foggy at best. He wanted to kill something. He wanted to break something. He launched himself toward the door leading down to the basement and threw himself down the stair in two steps. He tore through his basement and sped to the back cell of the basement. He stopped and stared at his prisoner.

Ansuya, the elder werewolf, was awake and gazing at him serenely. His mouth hung open, unable to believe what it was he was seeing. The brown skinned woman smiled at him in a very tender way. The room disappeared around them and his focus sharpened to a pin point on her eyes; nothing else existed, just him and her eyes, all else was lost to some unseen void.

The woman spoke tenderly to him, “Kenneth, my darlings how are you?” It was the hushed voice of a lover.

Kenneth took a step back, his mind reeling from what he was seeing and what he knew to be the truth. The woman could not have escaped his grasp. She should still be in his world, on the sidewalk. His mind was cluttered and he couldn’t reach any point of clarity. Rage had dulled his wits and now this had further unsettled him. NO! She was still in his thrall, still in his world. She would not escape him, not when he had been so close!

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“What are you staring at, Kenneth?” Ansuya was smoky eyed seduction made flesh. “I hope I have something you want.” She smiled radiantly in the dimness of the cell.

Kenneth stumbled back a half step, trying to compose himself. “What are you doing, Ansuya?” His voice was harsh and raspy.

Ansuya languidly unfolded herself from her position on the floor, and rose like a blooming flower. Her posture was one of pure power and control. Her frail form in his world was nowhere to be found. She wrapped herself in majesty and beauty that even he was not completely immune from.

He found himself wanting her. His mind was drawn to her and the whole of his being felt a tug to obey her. He yanked his mind from the sensation and pulled himself back from her. Being this close to her was what a star must feel like on the event horizon of a black hole. Teetering on the edge of space, waiting to see if it would be flown free or tumble inexorably into a sweet crushing death.

Ansuya stood tall in her cell and she held his eyes with hers. “You failed, vampire.”

Kenneth watched as she pressed against the bars with her hands. Not even steel disobeyed her. The bars bent immediately to her touch and she stepped gracefully from the cell.

He was frozen, incapacitated by her gaze and her amazing being. She was everything there was, everything there could ever be. The command on his mind to obey her was growing by the second and he had to wrestle with himself to even remain standing in this Goddess’ presence. The battle within himself was so great that he didn’t even see her walk past him.

Kenneth tried to catch her but as he reached for her, she instantly wheeled around and grabbed his hand, and flung him into an open cell.

He found himself turned upside down with the weight of his body on his neck. He let himself fall to the floor and rolled over on his hands and knees. The cell was dusty, he was momentarily rather thankful he hadn’t put any furniture in these things. Shaking his head he jumped to his feet and pursued the werewolf up the stairs to his house.

He crashed through the door and found the woman by his bar. He side-stepped the wreckage of his now broken chair and tried to get a better angle on her than he had down in the basement.

Ansuya smiled to herself, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, “You have a very lovely collection of wine and alcohol, Kenneth.” Her forehead wrinkled and she tilted her head to the side. “I thought, though, that vampires never drank wine.”

Kenneth’s eyes narrowed. “We vampires are capable of many things she-wolf bitch.”

Ansuya fully turned toward him with admonishment in her eyes and a frown on her lips, “Come, come, Kenneth. You should know better than to use that kind of language.”

Kenneth immediately felt remorse for using that word and wanted to lower his eyes. It was a fight to keep them locked on the woman and even more of a fight to wipe away the feeling of remorse. What was she doing to him?