Free Night's Pleasure by Amanda Ashley

to Bobby Chang, the mortician, who had informed her that there had been about a teaspoonful of blood left in the John Doe’s body. The mortician had no explanation for the blood loss, other than two small puncture wounds located on the inside of the corpse’s left arm.
    Returning to her office, Savanah had read and answered her mail, gone to lunch with one of her coworkers, done a little writing on the story she was working on, and spent every minute she wasn’t busy thinking about Rane.
    She had Googled his name on the Web. Lots of links came up for various products and services. There was even an old movie titled Rane, but none of the links applied to her magician. She felt her cheeks heat at the thought of Rane being hers. When she Googled the stage names he had used in the past, she found numerous rave reviews of his shows posted by fans all across the country, as well as dozens of online videos, and at least fifty fan sites. But nothing she didn’t already know.
    Feeling as though she were banging her head against the proverbial stone wall, she shut down her computer, grabbed her bag, and headed for home, figuring she had just enough time to get out of her work clothes, take a quick shower, and get ready for her date with Rane. Just thinking about seeing him again put a smile on her face.
    â€œAnd a song in my heart,” she said, and giggled like a teenager with her first crush.
    It was near dark when she pulled into the driveway. Switching off the ignition, she grabbed her handbag and her briefcase and hurried into the house.
    No lights were on, but out of habit, she called, “Hey, Dad, are you here?”
    When there was no answer, she went into the kitchen to see if he had left her a note. Finding none, she hurried upstairs. In her room, she undressed and headed for the shower. She stood there a minute, letting the hot water ease the tensions of the day. She wondered where her dad had gone. It was unusual for him to take off without letting her know he was going out.
    Stepping out of the shower, she pulled on her robe, quickly did her hair and makeup, and then spent ten minutes going through her closet trying to decide what to wear. She settled on a pair of camel-colored pants and a white silk shirt.
    She had just posted a note for her dad on the fridge when the doorbell rang.
    Her date had arrived, right on time.
    Taking a deep breath, Savanah stepped into her sandals, her heart pounding a mile a minute.
    Rane whistled softly when she opened the door.
    â€œThank you,” she said, smiling.
    â€œYou look good enough to eat.”
    â€œYou always say that.”
    â€œIt’s always true.” He couldn’t wait to taste her again, to savor the sweetness of her life’s blood, to feel the warmth of it on his tongue.
    â€œCome on in. I just need to grab my coat.”
    Rane followed her into the living room. He glanced around, noting the room looked comfortable, clean, and lived in. A home, he thought, something he hadn’t had in more years than he cared to remember. Looking at the photograph on the mantel, he felt a sharp stab of recognition. He had seen the woman before, he was sure of it, though he couldn’t recall her name, if he had ever known it.
    â€œReady?” Savanah asked, coming up behind him.
    â€œAlways ready.”
    He gestured at the photograph on the mantel. Savanah bore a striking resemblance to the woman in the picture. “You look a lot like her.”
    â€œThank you.”
    â€œYour mother?”
    â€œYes. She was beautiful, wasn’t she?”
    â€œSo are you.”
    â€œShe died when I was a little girl.”
    Rane glanced at the photo again. He remembered the woman now. She had been a Vampire hunter, and a good one. But for her, he would have been dead years ago. Did Savanah know her mother had been a hunter? Was it something that ran in the family? It wasn’t the kind of question he could ask without arousing her