Banshee Series Books 1 - 6

735 pages

He opened the eyes that were not his own and walked with legs he had never used. Candlelight flickered. It toyed with the gaps in the stones, creating deep shadows that weaved over the walls like spider webs. The play of shadow and light was a thing of beauty as they draped over the polished wood of the caskets. He weaved through his collection, lovingly running his taloned nails along the edges of each one he passed. It had taken so long to build the collection. To find his pristine specimens amongst the entire firth. To find those worthy to be here. Preparing each had been an equally painstaking task, but it had all been worth it. They were perfect and, finally, the time was right to add another.

The newest coffin was more of a masterpiece than a vessel for the dead. The craftsmanship was exquisite, carved and polished to a high shine. He ran his fingers over the cool, slick surface as he rounded the foot and peered down at his newest addition. The man lying within the coffin eagerly sought out his gaze. They always did. When they were his, everything they needed could be found in his attention. Fear still lingered in the murky depths of the eyes of his new toy, but it didn't matter. It never did. Their need for him always surpassed their instincts to survive.

"Are you scared?" He spoke the words with a voice that didn't belong to him. It was one he didn't recognize.

"A little," the man stammered.

"It's okay," he assured as he fluttered his fingers over the nearby instruments. "It will all be over soon. And then you'll be with me forever."

The young man was going to make such a fine possession. Trust. Loyalty. Love. He gave it all so freely. He reached out, his borrowed hand like a glove pulled too tight, and then wrapped his fingers around the large needle. His new claw-like nails clacked against its surface, the sound making his newest possession hitch his breath. But he didn't attempt to crawl out of his zinc-lined coffin.

The obedience made pleasure blossom within his chest. He repeatedly shifted his fingers, just to produce the sound again. The limited light danced over the inch long needle and its adjoining glass jar. While he didn't try to escape, his delightful young man didn't immediately move to take the needle when offered. Instead, he eyed it carefully, his growing fear forcing the first few tears out of his eyes.

"I don't want to die."

Unfurling his new long fingers, he cradled the needle in the palm of his hand.

"Do you love me?"

The answer came immediately, dripping with devotion. "Of course."

"Is there anything you would deny me?"

"Nothing. I'll give you anything."

The finely pointed nails left thin red trails along his possession's skin as he trailed his hand over his cheek. Like a loyal dog, the boy nuzzled against his palm.

"All I ask for ... is your life."

Even though the terror never left the boy's water-lined eyes, he still reached out and took the needle. His hesitation came back only after the sharp tip was poised over the soft blue trail of his vein. A fine tremor shook his hand until blood began to well around the tip.

"Show me how much you love me."

With a choked sob that ended with a pitiful whisper, his precious new toy pushed. Blood quickly swelled and flooded the tube. It created a sweet, gentle gurgling noise as it filled the jar and drained the life out of the man's veins.

***

Benton's eyes snapped open.

Just a dream, he told himself.

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