Chapter 35
Sated by the blood of Her new Victims..
Jatha did not.let these young ones die instead She made them to be such as She ..
The Louisiana night, a heady brew of magnolia and the slow, viscous breath of the Mississippi, thrummed with a nascent power. Katja, a crimson smile playing on lips that promised both ecstasy and oblivion, observed the cluster of young souls. They pulsed with the vibrant, untamed music of life, a symphony that tugged at the ancient chords within her. Their eyes, wide with a borrowed enchantment, were blind to the predatory grace that coiled beneath her silken gown. Gregor, a ghost of warmth that sometimes haunted the edges of her consciousness, was a distant echo, a yearning for a sun she hadn't felt on her skin for millennia. But tonight, a more immediate, more potent satisfaction bloomed.
She had not let these vibrant sparks extinguish. Instead, she had woven them into her tapestry, their youthful fire now a steady, enduring flame that mirrored her own. The coppery tang of their new existence still clung to the air, a sweet perfume of transformation. Their initial terror, a fleeting whisper against the vastness of their eternal night, had softened into a nascent wonder. Their eyes, once reflecting only the flickering gaslight of a New Orleans tavern, now held the deeper, more complex luminescence of the moon. Their movements, once clumsy with mortal haste, possessed a new, languid elegance, a fluidity born of awakened senses.
They were hers now, not as prey, but as kin. Their laughter, once tinged with the recklessness of youth, now carried a subtle, haunting melody, a harmony with the ancient songs of the city. The scent of their blood, a memory still sharp and intoxicating, had been replaced by the richer, more profound aroma of their shared immortality. They clustered around her, not with fear, but with a reverent devotion, their gazes fixed on her, the Mistress of Midnight, their Queen. The hunger that had once driven her to solitary hunts now found its fulfillment in their collective presence, a silent testament to her enduring power. The Mississippi, a dark, serpentine artery, flowed on, oblivious to the new life that had been awakened on its banks, life that now belonged to Katja, forever and always. I was lonely. You are as I..You are Mine now ......