Soon he would hold her in his gazes again, smell the sweet scent of her hair, her skin. He would hear the delicate lilting of her voice. Little Maggie. Sweet, gentle Maggie…
Finn is a demon, hated by his own kind, exiled to a life of self-enforced solitude. Though his life is desolate and lonely, he takes comfort over the years in secretly watching his curious young neighbor grow and mature into a young woman. But when his innocent interest puts her life at risk, they must embark together on a journey to save both their lives.
Maggie Price has been fascinated by her mysterious neighbor since she was a girl. He's a enigma, but one fateful night will bring them closer than she ever could have imagined. Plunged into a dangerous new world, Maggie finds herself bound to this beautiful monster in a way that will change her life forever.
It was a crisp December night and the snow fell silent and calm on the city streets, sticking in the dark crevices and corners of the pavement. He'd been waiting outside the warehouse for hours, though he did not feel the chill permeating his body. He waited and watched, surprisingly patient after finally – finally! – tracking her scent to this place. It had been such a long time, four – no – five years to bring him here. Five years of searching, of waiting, of yearning and pining that finally brought him to the door of this dingy abandoned warehouse.
Well, normally abandoned warehouse. Tonight it was something different. Tonight the building was alive, pulsing with music and teeming with people. He could hear the deep bass of the house music pumping through the speakers inside. He could feel the throbbing of the crowd within and smell the sweat covering their bodies.
He'd seen this sort of thing before, "raves" they called them. He knew because he could smell the dozen or more chemicals seeping from the pores of the sweaty dancers, and colorful people, wide eyed, their gnashing mouths stuffed with pacifiers, had been in and out of the door all night.
How was it she was in a place like this? How had his sweet, innocent Maggie found her way into such a scene?
Admittedly, he himself had spent more than one night in a place like this, but as a predator, not as a participant. It was an enjoyable way of spending his evenings for a while. But he had tired of it quickly. It was too easy. A taste here, a taste there. The rushes of serotonin and the sweaty, writhing bodies pulsating on the dance floor, the technicolor strobes and black lights. Such humanity. Such feeling. But none of it was real. It was all just part of a silly made-up world induced by too much Ecstasy.
He adjusted himself against the cold brick of the building as a group of giggling girls, clad in neon pinks, greens, and blues stumbled out of the warehouse door. Their arms were thrown around each other's shoulders and for a moment there was a wonderful tangle of limbs and laughter as they tried to walk in unison down the sidewalk.
His stomach ached. It had been days since he'd fed. He had been so consumed with purpose and desire since hearing the first real news of his Maggie in five years that his appetite had left him. But now, being so close to her, feeling her through the thick cement walls, his hunger returned.
In the shadows, his eyes glowed red for a moment as he sized up the girls. It would be so easy to pluck one from the group and drag her into the shadows for a little taste. She probably wouldn't even remember it, or if she did she'd probably just chalk it up to some elaborate drug-induced hallucination.
He watched a moment longer before deciding against it. What would happen if Maggie were to finally emerge from the door at the very moment he was dragging some poor girl into the alley to feed? He couldn't chance it. No, not tonight.
The girls continued to twirl and dance on the curb another minute before they finally continued their stumble down the street. The echo of their heels click-clacking on the pavement bounced off the buildings.
He relaxed against the wall again. Soon, he knew, soon she would have to come out. Soon he would hold her in his gazes again, smell the sweet scent of her hair, her skin. He would hear the delicate lilting of her voice. Something in his gut stirred at the thought.
Little Maggie. Sweet, gentle Maggie…