The need to feed.

Hunger was a driving force for most Kindred. It was one to be sated by any means necessary. Some Kindred chose strength, overwhelming their prey in a surprise assault only to leave as the kine began to decline from their ecstasy.

Others, like Blackbird, possessed a subtler approach. Sure, Sacramento wasn't as big as Los Angeles or Chicago, but it was near large cities and attractions. Frankly, there was a lot of traffic. And so Blackbird found herself at a dive near the highway.

It didn't take long to spot her prey. A man in his early twenties, probably only a year or so past his 21st. Judging by the sweater, he was a student from UCLA and, judging from luggage in the back seat of his sedan, he was headed home for the winter break.

He was also alone.

After that it was easy. A brush on his shoulder as she passed. A glance. A devious smirk. Then the beckoning.

Before Blackbird knew it, the guy had gotten a room at a cheap roadside motel for the night, calling his parents to let them know he was having 'car trouble'. She let the boy have his fun, for a little while before her lips found purchase on his neck. He enjoyed the Kiss, like so many others, delight coursing through his form. After she was done, convincing the fool to drink was child's play. Then, as he finally gave into the fatigue of his lost blood and alcohol, the man slept and Blackbird left.

A short walk later, she got an Uber, headed home to Florin, and tipped the guy well.

As for the boy, he awoke the next morning to a hangover, unsure of the night's events in his memory, mixed as they were with drunken vision and ecstasy. He was certain it was good, however, and departed Sacramento to continue north none the wiser.