He could hear the heartbeat of his prey. It rang in his ears like a drumbeat, marking time with his own footsteps. A block’s distance separated them. It was a good thing, he thought. Less chance of being noticed.
His prey abruptly stopped, bent down. Perhaps an untied shoe or a dropped knick-knack. Regardless, the man stood after a moment or so and continued on his way. Even through the hustle and bustle of the city, his quickened pace did not go unnoticed.
The prey ducked into an alley. His heartbeat quickened, the smell of fear rolling off of him. So he was smart enough to notice his pursuer. This would make things interesting.
He glided into the alley, a smile on his foxlike face. He trailed his long fingernails along the grubby brick walls. His prey stood before a chain-link fence. His heartbeat thundered now under the strain of his terror.
“There is no need to run,” he told his prey in a silky voice. The prey, an older balding man in a stained shirt, turned to face his pursuer. The tension eased out of his body as he took in a pale, angelic face framed with fiery red hair. A pair of amber eyes stared back.
“Why are you following me?” the prey rasped. The pursuer stepped closer and ran his fingers down his prey’s cheek. There was an urge to flinch back, though it was drowned out, subdued by adoration and desire. “You…you won’t hurt me.”
“No,” the pursuer said, lips trailing across his prey’s throat, “I won’t.”