Enticing Blood

*chapter five

Wylde leaned on his elbows over the counter top and toyed with a fake apple, rolling it palm to palm as he watched Dean, his housemate, walk up the stairs and into the bedroom where Melanie lay. Shortly after, Dean returned while raking his fingers through his sandy hair. He was anxious, and Wylde could smell it in his blood.

"And you're sure that's her this time?" He asked for the umpteeth time, looking Wylde directly in the pupils. Wylde rolled his eyes and stood straight, abandoning the apple and grabbing his friend by the shoulders before he could leave the kitchen again and pace like a psychopath in a white room.

"I'm positive. I can smell it in her blood, Dean." Wylde said, his jaw clenched. "It's her." He didn't dare say how he knew that Isabel wasn't Melanie in the first place--that was something Wylde knew he was going to keep to himself.

She looked just like he remembered, and those memories were what was saving her from him—because if he hadn't known her like he did, she'd be dead in an instant. Her blood smelled too sweet, too delicious to not want to rip the soft flesh from her throat.

Dean nodded slowly and he looked a little relieved, but Wylde could still see the fear in his eyes. It was understandable to Wylde; he was a little afraid too. But he refused to let it show. He was usually the calm and collected one, and he wasn't going to break just because his life was in his uncle's leather gloved hands.

Wylde's uncle Adam was coming over soon to claim the young girl, and if they made another mistake, Wylde and Dean wouldn't be alive to see daylight. Wylde didn't know exactly how his plan of handing over the wrong sister was going to work, but he definitely didn't think that Adam would put his life on the line.

Now it was time for plan two.

As if on cue, Wylde was aware of someone's presence that had just entered their house, and he was alert. Letting go of his friend, he turned, and just as he thought, his uncle Adam walked into the kitchen while rubbing his gloved hands together. He flashed a cocky smile that made the room's demeanor change with just his expression.

"Hello, my nephew," He said to Wylde, then he nodded toward Wylde's housemate."Dean." He greeted with his voice that sounded like velvet to the ears. His eyes flashed as he looked between them, his cruel features even more prominent in the lighting.

"We got her." Wylde said, cutting down to the only reason why Adam was really there. There was no point in small talk, they didn't care about the weather, how each other was feeling or what they had been up to. He wanted to know where Melanie was, that was it.

And to Wylde's dismay, she was lying peacefully upstairs, not knowing her death was just around the corner.

Adam smiled at Wylde and leaned against the counter, folding his hands together. By just looking at the man, you'd know he had seen things no one would envision in a nightmare, and would do - or has done - things that Satan in Hell would be proud of.

"Oh, do you now?" He teased with a raised eyebrow. "And it's actually the one I want; Melanie."

Wylde nodded curtly, his eyes as cold as his heart and the blood that doesn't run through his veins. He was all stone, all frozen, his insides were as cold as an abyss, and just as empty.

"Where is she?" Adam asked, his voice slick and tongue flicking against his teeth like a venomous snake.

"She's inside the guest room, asleep. I snapped her neck so she wouldn't see where we lived or try to hop out the door or anything, and she healed fine."

"What if she didn't heal in the first place, Wylde." Adam said coldly.

"She did and I knew she would." Wylde said, his lip twitching. There was one thing Wylde hated, and that was being tested. Wylde could feel a flame sparking in his gut, and it was all he could do to keep it from turning into a conflagration.