*Max rolls over onto his back, staring up at the ceiling as he absentmindedly licks the last dribble of crimson sustenance from the corner of his mouth. It was shortly after sundown, the Mekhet having wasted a good half hour of his night feeding from one of the blood dolls that constituted his stable of mortals. The young female was quite contently passed out, tired from the blood loss and ecstasy of the Kiss. For his part, Max tries to content himself with the viscus warmth flowing down his throat, an intense warmth spreading through his cold body. Not for the first time he wondered what it was that set him apart from other Kindred, what it was he was lacking to enjoy the Kiss in the way they did...


He had heard it called better than sex, better than any drug. He knew Kindred that had become addicted to the thrill of the hunt and feeding; gorging themselves then burning through the Blood so they can go out and hunt again. And yet, he could never feel that thrill, that excitement. He certainly enjoyed the feeling of fullness, the way a sated Beast was calmed by a full belly. But his feedings had never held the pure bliss so many others had described it as. To Max it was a constant chore to be done before the real work of the night could begin.


The Kiss was even more powerful for the Kine, his own stock proving that fact quite clearly. He had come to the city shortly after the Lost Nights had left so many Kine without Dominators. Blood Dolls, those addicted to the euphoric rush of the Kiss, were even more dangerous than masterless Ghouls. A Ghoul had a few weeks to find a new Master, a Blood Doll only had until they needed their next fix. He had done the whole city a favor by rounding up the addicted Kine and offering them what they needed; with the small side effect of keeping his own belly full.


There was no love in these relationships, no fake devotion from the Blood Bond, no disingenuous fawning over the Kine to get them to surrender their blood. Perhaps that was why Max had targeted the Blood Dolls when he came to the city. Not just because they were easily manipulated and cowed, but that there was no emotional connection to them. They used him just as much as he used them, it was a mutually abusive relationship.


Max turns his head, studying the young mortal woman who had her head nuzzled into an over-stuffed pillow, dreaming with a soft smile on her lips. He knew her name, knew she was a student at the local university. She wasn't beautiful, but he guessed she was pretty enough; with her glasses off and hair down as it was now. But beyond that he knew nothing; nor did he go out of his way to learn much more about any of the vassals he regularly feed from. There was an emotional disconnect between he and her; a distance that allowed Max to focus on the feeding itself. The quicker it was over, the sooner he could get to the important events of the night.


Making his rounds as Deputy, his occult studies, his budding training in combat; there was a never ending list of things Max had to find time to fit into his nights. He still hadn't found the right balance, bouncing from one activity to another; trying to get as much done in each night as possible. That his body still required food in the form of Vitae was an annoyance that Max had tried long and hard to reduce to an easily planned and executed routine.


A member of his Herd would be waiting for him when he awoke; all arranged and managed by his faithful Ghoul Samantha. All Max had to do was roll over, wrap his arms around the young mortal, and begin feeding. Once he was filled, or take what he could without hurting the Kine, he would rise, get dressed for the evening, then head out without a word. Samantha would take care of the details in the intervening hours; freeing Max to focus on the important issues of the night.


Max's hand reaches out, brushing away the strands of brunette hair from the girl's neck, fingertips running over the blemish-free flesh where his fangs had sunk into her neck. What was it that had first hooked her into this arrangement, offering herself to a creature such as himself? What motivated her, occupied her during the times she wasn't in this bed? So many questions left unasked, unanswered. If only there was more time to...


His musings are cut short by the opening of the bedroom door; Samantha poking her head in to see what was taking her Master so long.* Is everything alright Max? Do I need to call another girl in for the night? *She asks softly. Max's eyes linger on the sleeping girl for just a moment longer; curiosity killed by the pressing matters of the night. He slides out of bed, grabbing a freshly pressed shirt off a hanger as he went.*
No, everything is alright Sam; just taking a little longer than usual tonight... *He says as he slips his arms in and buttons up the front.* I'll be out late tonight, I need to spend some time in the library. Don't wait up for me, I'll call if I need you. *He slips on a pair of wing tips and heads out of the door, leaving the long suffering Ghoul to clean up as always. One task done for the night, a thousand left to go...*