Not Just Another Blood Bag Ch. 03

He prowled through the mansion grounds, crouched and ready to attack. Dressed in black from head to toe; t-shirt, gloves, jeans and athletic shoes for the more dangerous maneuvers. Not that he anticipated danger; he just liked to be prepared. A peeking five o'clock shadow and shaggy, dark brown hair, added to his shadowy appearance.

Cautiously, he monitored the security cameras, making sure the timing was just right for his next move. He slid into position, next to the hedges growing just below a large balcony, surveying the outside for an easy point of entry. He was considering breaking in the old fashioned way when he saw that a second story window was cracked. Granted, it was a fifteen feet jump from the balcony, but he'd make it.

With a final glance towards the cameras, he crept into position. Nowhere near the security a place this big needs,he thought. Stealthily, he inched closer darting to another bush, when he heard footsteps. He crouched low to the ground and stilled his movements. His breathing calmed and his heart rate slowed. He didn't want to give away his position or the element of surprise. A guard passed by at a leisurely pace, pausing to receive a radio transmission.

"Clint." The squawk of the radio was deafeningly loud in the silent night air.

"Yeah boss?"

"Your wife called. Get your ass back to the command post so we don't have to hear her voice any longer than necessary."

"Roger that." The guard took off at almost a run.

He let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, and watched as the guard disappeared from sight. Slowly extending to his full height, he eyed the distance between his position and the balcony above. He could make it. With merely a four-step run, he landed the two-story jump.

He latched onto the railing, using it as an anchor to pull himself up and over, and land lightly on the other side. Standing, he flattened his back against the wall and moved noiselessly down its length. Barely more than a shadow to anyone who cared to look.

Slowly, he twisted the door handles lining the balcony. To his surprise, a door slid open on the third attempt. Covertly he moved to just the right angle before peering inside. It was a security room, filled with men and computers. It didn't get better than that. Reaching back he pulled the pistol from his jeans, his fingers sliding expertly over the trigger. He exhaled softly to loosen his nerves, before he moved forward.

He took out three people before anyone noticed; the scream drew their attention to the doorway. It didn't take the guards long to act and pull a gun but he took it in stride. Effortlessly nailing each person before moving on to the next. When he looked up, there was only one man left who possessed a look of shock across his face. He moved up close, staring him in the eye before pulling the trigger. Turning, he examined the victims of his attack. His face broke into a grin as he announced, "You're all dead." Then whirled around, and continued to fire into the face of the chief of security with the water pistol.

The stunning hazel of his eyes glittered as he let loose a good-natured laugh. Several of the soaked guards were making it back to their feet. Some flashing glares; others smiling and shaking their heads. The head of security fumed at Ethan, but he just smiled wide and slipped the barrel of the gun in his mouth, and pulled the trigger a few times. "It's not funny Ethan. We were all ready to kill you, until we recognized your face. I should have at least shot you for ruining my suit."

Ethan sighed, his expression turning serious. "No, William, what's not funny is that one man was able to penetrate the grounds undetected, let alone make it all the way to the security room." William squirmed under Ethan's gaze, "You, my friend, need to upgrade. There should be motion sensors, at least at the top of the fences; more security cameras, and a lock down policy for door and windows. If I had been armed tonight with a real gun, you'd all really be dead."

Ethan left the room; satisfied his point had been made. He threw the water pistol on a passing end table and pulled off his gloves, pressing them into his back pocket. He descended the stairs expecting to see more people.I must be missing something, he thought. Oh well.At the bottom of the stairs he turned left to head toward the kitchen.

The kitchen, like the rest of the mansion, was a statement of wealth. The tile flooring and granite countertops fell in line with the latest styles and showed little-to-no signs of use. Top-of-the-line appliances graced the walls like showroom pieces.And it would be so easy to mistake this for a showroomhe thought. A frown flickered across his face, leaving when he spotted a man happily stocking the fridges behind the bar.

"Mark! Just the man I wanted to see," Ethan said in a friendly but cool tone as he walked over. "Restocking again? Don't you ever get a break?"

Mark smiled at his companion, "Not when you're in charge of providing blood for a mansion full of vampires. What can I get you buddy?" Ethan shifted over the bar, leaning in to inspect the goods.

"Is it still fresh?"

"Of course! Who do you think I am?" The insulted tone of Mark voice was broken by the smile on his face.

"Kill or blood bank?"

"Blooddrive." Mark's tone was nonchalant, emphasizing the last word, before turning back to his duties. There was a moment of silence as Mark rifled through the bins contents and refilled the empty shelves.

Ethan couldn't hide the surprise in his voice when he spoke "But it's not the fifteenth!"

"The fifteenth fell in the middle of the week. I decided to bump the day up to this weekend, considering we always get a better crowd on the weekends. And how fast the lot of you go through blood." He added with a roll of his eyes. "You'd think it was candy."

Ethan glanced at the empty space around him, "Seeing how there isn't the normal line up and down the hall, I take it no one remembered?"

Mark flashed a wry smile, pushing the black hair off his face. He lowered his head down and started to sort through the packets "Didn't really tell anyone. Besides I'm head of the blood department, and what I say goes. If they don't like it they can go hunt for themselves; or find a willing human." his reply was muffled at best.

Ethan's smile doubled in size and his voice became enthusiastic when he realized everything that Mark was implying. "So you mean; I've got first pick on fresh blood? You've got to be kidding me!"

Mark smirked and turned around "Well, not exactly, I'm trying to find this girl's blood I met today at the donation clinic. Great little brunette, full of life and sweet, I'm thinking that maybe I should ask her out."

Ethan's mood turned sour, as he scuffed. "You're going on date with a human? You know how badly that could end?"

Mark grinned profusely at his friend, "So I want to date her." Mark shrugged, "It's not like I professed my undying love for the girl and decided to turn her to save my soul. I've got a while yet before my soul mate clock runs out of time, thank you very much." Ethan looked at him skeptically, before reaching forward and snatching the bin away.

"Hey that's not fair man! I get first pick, I worked all day." He glared at Ethan, before rolling his eyes and moving to stand besides him.

Haphazardly, the two men dug through the blood bags. To an outsider the labels would bear little relevance to the apparent cause of a drive. Each one listed the donor's age, blood type, gender and name. Ethan's stomach growled at the sight of the crimson liquid. The clear plastic withheld its luscious scent from the world, from him. The life it held left those who consumed it near physical perfection, with a similarity to their appearance.

But it wasn't long before Ethan's famous impatience reared its head. He simply grabbed a few bags from the top, a glass, and stomped out the kitchen not even pausing to say good-bye.

~~~~~~~

Two flights of stairs later Ethan pushed the door open to his room. The room itself resembled more of a large apartment. The windows were draped in velvet of a rich jade green, matching the rug in front of the fireplace. The dark blue armchairs begged to be lounged in. The four-poster bed was made of a dark mahogany with a matching antique armoire and bedside tables. While the room was beautiful, it was void of all signs of life. Clean and polished, not a book out of place, or a speck of dust on the fireplace.Another showroom,he thought

His pace was awkward as he strode forward, stopping at the fireplace and sinking into a chair. He deposited the glass and blood bags on his coffee table, and relaxed in the comfort of his couch. His shaggy hair fell away from his face as he leaned back, recounting the events of the past week.

Ethan worked testing security systems, with the occasional bodyguard gig. He loved his job, but it got tedious fast. All the covens seemed to have the same problem. Security was poor, outdated causing them rely on their powers to stave off threats.As if it helps,he thought.I can easily breach their security without having to use any of my abilities.Their egos could be the end of the race someday. Without the proper protection they were vulnerable to attack. They wouldn't go easily, but they weren't invincible. It was time to draw from the previous generations, and focus on protecting their own.

Ethan stomach growled again and he reached for a bag of blood to curb his hunger. His choices were limited, having only grabbed two random bags before leaving. He examined the labels. Donators ages where separated by roughly 35 years in age. Most vampires had developed specific tastes, making their choices in blood like a choice of restaurant. When you have time and money, you might go for a more expensive, high-class cuisine. But when you're hungry you'll eat anything. Ethan eyed his choices, a 24-year-old female or a 59-year-old male. His tastes preferred the younger blood, but he reached for the older instead. He'd enjoy the young blood more when his hunger wasn't so strong.

Leaning forward, he pulled a sheathed dagger from his ankle, poking a hole in the plastic for the best possible drainage transfer. In hard times past, vampires wouldn't have bothered with glasses, instead attacking the bag in starved hunger. He hoped he'd never see those times again.

The blood trickled into the glass, its rich beauty appealing as the finest wine to his senses. He tossed the empty packet in the bin and flipped the Plasma on. The coppery liquid hit his tongue as an assault on his senses. Pleasure stirred through his body as it awakened to the nourishment only blood could provide him.

He reached for the remote, flipping lazily through the selections before settling on the travel channel. When you've been alive for 500 years, you have a chance to see the world, and most of the places Ethan had visited at one point or another. Studying the languages and cultures was amusing for a couple of hundred. Of course, the places had changed with time but a few centuries will do that. Well, to most things at least.

Ethan sighed and sipped his beverage.No deep thinking,he silently ordered his mind, at least not until I wind down. It was only 4 am; he still had a few hours until bed. Light didn't have the dramatic movie effect that so many humans thought it did. Sure it made them burn, but mostly it resembled a day on the beach without sunscreen; only depleting their energy mildly while their body healed the burn. It wasn't like they couldn't live with it. Ethan just thought it made more sense to prowl at night, when there was less visibility to outsiders. Still, being in the security field did require one to be available at all times. So he found it best to replenish his system before bedding down for the night. He took a swig from the glass, downing the last of its contents.

With a disgusted glare at the TV, he leaned forward and turned it off.So much for that.He grabbed the second bag off of the coffee table and pricked its corner to drain. Instantly the smell of blood flitted through the air. His mouth itched as he breathed it in. The scent was so strong, his stomach screamed for him to drain the bag dry.

When it was emptied into the glass, he stood and cautiously lifted the bag, moving over to the bin. It hovered in his hands, as he stood mesmerized by the color. The gentle beckoning scent that had him keening to taste it. He cursed silently at the sudden lack of control.It's just blood. I have a whole glass to drink right over there. Why the urge? Despite his reasoning, the urge suddenly became too great. In one swift movement, he leaned in and licked the trailing of blood from the bag.

Ecstasy raced through Ethan's system like a shock of electricity. The taste was amazing!But why?He stared at the bag, shaking his head as the need rose in him.It's not like I've never had AB positive before. I'm acting like I'm a youth on the hunt of the first time.There was no answer for it, nor denial. The blood was the most delicious, addictive thing he had ever experienced in all 588 years of existence.

Its flavour was tangy and sweet, the natural coppery taste of blood barely discernable in the liquid. Its scent seduced him. So different from all the blood he'd consumed in the past. His body demanded more. He eyed the bag suspiciously and pocketed it. Then he turned to the glass on the table, eased down in the chair and stared.

~~~~~

It was taunting him. After 30 minutes of staring he finally gave up. He'd examined the color, and ran through the possible drugs or additives in the donor; and was able to come up with nothing. Ethan leaned forward tentatively and took hold of the glass. He didn't know if it was the memory of the taste, or the overpowering smell in the air, but he was drawn to it. The only thing Ethan knew was that the blood was calling to him, longing to be caressed and consumed.

Slowly, he brought the glass to his lips and sipped. The texture was amazing; it caressed his lips and bade him to drink more. Still cautious, he brought more of the blood into his mouth, letting it slide over his tongue and down his throat. His veins surged. He could no longer restrain the need raging inside him. He flooded his mouth with the liquid, draining the glass in one breath.

He felt woozy, light headed.Why?He gripped the arm of the chair trying to remember when blood last had such an effect.Never.Abruptly a vision appeared to him, a man pissed off and storming out the door. The image flickered and a girl was sitting on the floor her hands bracing her head, looking up at a small group of people in the doorway. The image faded and was replaced with another image, two girls talking to Mark. Ethan strained to hear what they were saying, but there was no sound.Why am I having strange visions about Mark?Mark was smiling at a second girl and handed her a phone number. The image lingered for a second before fading back to Ethan's room.

Ethan sat unable to think. He stood, swaying unnaturally on his feet. Setting the glass down, he steadied himself on the arm of the chair.There has to be a reason for this, he thought. I have to find Mark, and the person who donated the blood.

"If I had her name it might help," he muttered to himself. Suddenly, it dawned on him that he had what he needed. He pulled the empty blood bag out of his pocket.

"Age: 24, AB positive; gender: female; name...H. Henderson."

No first name. Ethan let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.Fuck, fuck, fuck... Wait... The girl!! He summoned up the image of the girl from his vision.The brunette he wants to date.

Gleefully Ethan shoved the bag back into his pocket, crossed the room and exited. With a devilish grin that offset his greenish brown eyes, Ethan descended the stairs.

~~~~~~~

Special thanks to: Anie for editing this for me; M.T. for looking it over for errors; and to Ralph for thinking about editing for me. To my best friend who was suppose to edit for me, just remember I know where you live.

Thanks ya'll for waiting; it's been a rocky few weeks for me while this has been getting edited. If you've gotten this far please vote and review, it really makes my day. Even if you comment to say that I have poor grammar.