Jane Jago’s Daily Drabble – Fifty-Eight

She had a long-legged, sensuous walk and the hair that swung to the middle of her back was the colour of ripe apricots. His fangs itched. 

But he hid his lust, merely engineering a meeting at the bar, and engaging her in casual conversation.

When the lights finally dimmed, he took her hand and offered a lift home. Beauty nodded gravely. 

In the back of his limousine he leaned towards the pulse in her long, white throat.

A scream of mortal agony brought people running from every direction, but they were too late. The stake had entered his heart…

©️jj 2018

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