10 CLOSE ENOUGH TO TOUCH
IGNATIUS TIGHTENED HIS JAW AS HE WATCHED Tomas’s son step out of the shadows near the high school and make his way down the sidewalk toward his home. He’d lost the boy for several hours, and only half expected he’d broken into the school-for what purpose, he neither knew nor cared. What was important was that he’d found the boy again, and the sky was overcast, protecting him from the rays of the sun as they reflected off the moon.
He moved in behind the boy, licking anxious lips. As he’d done with his last prey, he’d grab him by a handful of hair and drag him into the darkness, taking his time peeling back the boy’s flesh with his blade, making him suffer. It would be exquisite, and he could hardly wait to begin.
With every step, he closed the gap between them. The boy moved along at a casual pace, occasionally glancing to the left or the right, never seeming to think to check behind him. His posture screamed of awkwardness. Ignatius stretched his hand out, his fingers brushing against the boy’s soft black hair.
But as the tresses slipped between his fingers, the clouds shifted, uncovering the moon. Ignatius moved as quickly and silently as he could, flying with vampiric speed, to the safety of a nearby shed. Cursing, he watched out the small window as the boy brushed the back of his head with his palm and looked back in wonderment, as if trying to identify just what or who had touched him. After a nervous pause, he hurried his steps. In a moment, he was out of Ignatius’s line of sight.
Bitter fury boiled within the hunter. Fury that would only be tamed by Vladimir Tod’s suffering.