SEAN
Caroline hadn't been there when I returned to our room with the pizzas.
She hadn't left a note or a message. Nothing. Just an empty room.
Maybe I'd gone too far, I had thought. To offer her food, to spend a more or less decent evening together, to lie down beside her ... maybe it had been too much. Perhaps I'd pulled the rope too far, aware of her resistance. Perhaps I'd even broken that rope.
But then she had returned.
The first thing I had heard, lying in bed trying to fall asleep, was the slow creaking of the door, similar to a moan of pain. Then her footsteps, muffled by the carpet.
And then the smell.
Blood.
It was so intense that it made my stomach turn - and awakened my hunter instincts at the same time. One of the many great things about having a dual nature, is
