6Chapter 4: The Watcher
His eyes had been hot on Alecia's back for days, weeks, months, years. Not just her back either. He knew how many freckles were on her face, how many strands of hair usually fell out of her loose ponytail, the exact shade of green her eyes were. He probably knew more about her inner and outer appearance than Alecia herself.
Every time Alecia surveyed the area, he felt like a child who'd stolen a cookie right behind their parent's back. The thrill wasn't eating the cookie - just being so close to getting caught.
All she had to do was look up when she turned around. Then maybe she'd notice him crouching on the roof three or four houses back, a figure with dirty brown hair and blood-stained clothing. The idea, the fantasy, that she would acknowledge him sent shivers up his spine.
Usually, he'd watch from a block or so away, but circumstances hadn't been usual for a while. He'd missed out on that entire tragic year of Alecia's life, too busy playing cat and mouse with his own. It tore him up inside. He could've saved her, protected her. Instead he spent months too tied down, agonizing over her disappearance. She wasn't supposed to be gone for so long! Now she was back, and he was full of an impatient desire to make up for every minute of that missed time.
Plus, he could smell and hear her as though he were beside her whether he watched from half a mile away or ten steps away. After all, his senses were much more advanced than the average vampire's.
A tiny voice within whispered, 'reveal yourself.'
Before his second voice could counter, Alecia abruptly turned around. Her stare lingered; his body tensened. Though the hunter in him knew instantly that she was only looking in his general direction even before she turned away, real fear debilitated him. The exhilaration died down enough for the other voice to speak up, the guttural one that often called the shots.
'She will only fear you,' it said. 'She doesn't remember.'
No, she didn't remember a damn thing.
Alecia stopped, though she was only one step away from the bridge that would take her into the Batavia Oaks shopping area. Out of respect for her and her damaged mind, he tried to block out her layers of thoughts. A futile effort. The words came to him any way, sometimes too jumbled and too loud, but easily decipherable otherwise.
Really, I finally decide to leave the house on my own, buy some junk food, and I freak out...goingcrazy...but I KNOW I'm being watched...not too dark out; still shoulda left earlier...Icanfeeleyes...I hate suburbs! Where the hell is everybody?
"Is there...is there someone out there?" she shouted.
The guttural voice boomed in his mind. 'This invitation to answer her question will invite two scenarios. She will run or she will embrace your lust for murder, but we know what she will choose.'
Alecia backed away. Her speed walk home turned into a run. He could hear Alecia's racing thoughts, her fears that someone from her life on the street had tracked her down, but it was like she'd already chosen.
Red blurred his vision. All the frustration, all the desire, all the devotion boiling over into bloody tears that hurt when shed. He blinked them away. Why let them fall? He'd been watching her damn near his entire life. No choice of hers - intentional or unintentional - would prevent him from doing the same thing for the rest of his life, or the rest of hers depending on who died first.