In shock she returned the kiss then silently stepped away. I expected a slap to my face, which I had fully deserved, but she put her hand to her mouth...as if to check those were her lips, and then she place a single finger to my lips, as if to warn me to silence. She stepped back and leaned against a table appraising me, shuffling her feet slightly apart. In return I looked at her more clearly in silence. She wore a blue trimmed short sleeved white tunic, some kind of uniform perhaps, which was. There are strong arms on me, pulling me away. I gnash and snarl at unfamiliar faces as they part me from my prey. Who are they to take what is mine? That man is talking to me. He doesn’t have any blood for me. I recognize him. Titus. His name is Drake Titus. What is he saying? “How?” “How do you feel?” He’s smiling. I look down at the woman. She is cradled in Tiffany’s arms, and she is still alive. “Prestira?” Titus says. Is that my name? Prestira? Yes, that’s my name. My name is Prestira. My. More

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