Dracula focused intent on his prey, allowing Elisabeth to appraise him unnoticed. Although she was always taken aback by their beauty, this one would stand out even in a roomful of his own kind. Perfection in Armani, and something about his scent wafted deeper than the usual enticing muskiness; it strangely pulled an indefinable, distant memory. The scent was unique, yet familiar. Her pulse quickened, though clearly not from fear. Before she was aware his attention had shifted, his eyes leveled on her. Even with the embarrassment and urgency of being caught staring, it was difficult to pull her gaze away.
She hurried to the far end of the bar, putting as much distance as possible between herself and the enemy. Her nose continued its betrayal, and when she ordered a drink, the back of her neck prickled with a cool breeze surrounded by the scent of - heaven.
"Make that two, and put it on my tab."
Elisabeth closed her eyes tight and held her breath, attempting to purge the scent. She needed to shut this down and fast. Why was he standing behind her instead of influencing the redhead? And why was that scent so intoxicatingly familiar. "I can buy my own drink, thank you."
"I'm sure you can, but please allow a gentleman the gesture."
Great, he apparently had decided to switch blood donors in mid-hunt. That was unusual behavior. The thoughts filling her mind jumbled. Should she reveal herself and trust he would not want a scene any more than she did, or play dumb and run once they reached the place he would attempt to feed on her? The idea of him clamping onto her neck should be disgusting, yet somehow seemed intriguing. That was wrong on every level. His scent undermined her common sense.
"My name is Jackson, Jackson Parrish."
Her head remained bowed, eyes steady on the glass the bartender had set down. "Thank you for the drink, Mr. Parrish."
"You're welcome. Please, call me Jackson. And you are?"
If she was his desired prey, attempting to turn him off with anything short of the truth would be futile, but Elisabeth could not resist the opening he provided. "Not interested."
"Well, that's an unusual name. Your parents must not have liked you much."
She had to press her lips together to prevent the chuckle from escaping. He's a witty ice cube. I'll give him that. She attempted to rebuke him once more on the off chance he was looking for more than a quick snack or spending the evening with an influenced zombie. She turned to face him. "Look, Mr. Parrish…" The remainder of her sentence drifted away as their eyes connected. His reflected molten gold and radiated a glowing warmth throughout her body. She clutched the bar, willing herself to tear away from his grip, frightened and enchanted by the sensation welling up in her like a volcano ready to erupt.