My eyes finally light on one who's not too young but not too old. He's probably in his late twenties, and he looks unthreatening enough. Not too handsome, yet not too hideous either. He's like the perfect medium, and I decide that he's probably my safest bet.
It's not quite midnight yet, but it's getting closer, so I start making my way toward him through the crowd. I'm not going to get too close to him. I don't even need to talk to him or anything. I just want to be near enough to him so that as soon as the clock strikes midnight I can jump out and quickly lay one on him. I’ll make it quick and then be on my merry way.
Easy peasy.
Yeah, I think that's the best course of action.
My cheeks are flaming at the thought of kissing this random stranger, but I have to do this. If there's any slight possibility that there's truth to the fortune teller's prophecy I have to find out.
I square my shoulders and continue pushing through the throng of people until I'm hovering near him, trying to look as nonchalant as possible as the clock ticks down closer to midnight.
When there's only three minutes until the clock strikes, I begin nudging my way closer to him. One minute.
My palms get sweaty with nervous anticipation.
The countdown is beginning to start, and I don't see any other women around him.
My heart rate ticks up in my chest as the countdown gets closer to zero.
Ten.
Nine.
Eight.
Seven.
Six.
Five.
Four.
Three.
I inhale a deep breath.
Two.
One.
Here goes nothing.
Two
Jasper
My eyes narrow as my gaze hones in on the pretty little raven who stumbled into this ballroom looking completely out of place. She didn't come with anyone. She's here all alone, and that instantly sets my instincts on alert.
I've been around long enough to know that most pretty young females don't go to balls unescorted by male companions—or at least another female companion.
No, this little bird is up to something, and I'm going to find out what.
I've been watching her. She keeps casting surreptitious glances all around the ballroom, almost as if she's looking for someone.
She keeps inching closer and closer toward the little circle of men over in the corner of the ballroom.
I know those men. They're the intellectual sort of vampires. The ones who think they're a cut above the rest. They still try to hang on to their humanity and sequester themselves off from the rest of us riffraff, which begs the question of why they're even here to begin with.