/riːˈjuːniən/

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*Reunion

Suggestive Memorium: The technique of inception allowing to obtain someone's consent

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Suggestive Memorium: The technique of inception allowing to obtain someone's consent.

I stride into the room; everyone stops to look at me. From what I observe, there are only forty humans. This calculation includes the waiters and ninety-eight vampires.

The girls are on a couch, and Jesus sits between them. Aurora, as usual, flirts and plays with her charms, whereas Inna is in retreat. Even from here, I see how dilated Inna's eyes are. Her scent seems amplified; Jesus' stare is upon her makes her perspire.

Inna's attraction for Jesus is palpable. The rush of hormones emanating from her is as intoxicating as an aphrodisiac; it's close to what firsts release when we conceive. The Seconds in the room are high on her odor. The bacchanalia I saw before the switch of the decor was a result of its absorption. Right now, the only things stopping the Seconds from licking and sucking Inna dry are Jesus and me.

Jesus fixes me and smiles, "well, well, what have we got here? Ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce to those who don't know him, my brother, lord Søren Waldermar Tepes."

The drama queen then gets up and does a curtsy followed by everyone else except the humans present in the room.

I look in the girl's direction to see their response. Aurora appears amused by the performance, unlike me, whereas Inna gives me a quizzical.

Jesus regains his position and spreads his arms on the couch, which stretch behind the girl's shoulders, "so what brings you to my party? I know these get-togethers aren't too much of your cup of tea. Perhaps it's the charming creatures that reeled you in."

I sketch a lopsided smile and enter his mind, "stop it now, Jesus."

"Why? I had a feeling you were hiding something," he says, fixing me. "So which one is it? Ophelia," he turns his head to smile at Aurora," or is it this exquisite flower?" he motions his head towards Inna.

If I'm in the defensive mode, Jesus will catch on. I release my facial muscles to give off a neutral expression, "it's not what you think, their clients."

"I bet it's Ophelia. You've marked her; she was yours before. I won't fuss. I'll have vanilla," Jesus opens his mouth on Inna's neck showing his fangs while she looks away. He stops as Inna turns, and they find themselves nose to nose.

For those watching, nothing is happening between Jesus and me. The mental conversation is private. The only thing someone can observe is my worried expression and Jesus smiling like a jackal.

At the instant Inna's and Jesus's nose knock together, the scene oddly affects me. My fear of Inna's safety is more significant than I imagine.

Jesus gives Inna his lost-boy stare," sorry, I'm so confused. It must be an oblivious desire."

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