Isaiah looked at the group filing in. A large group, twenty plus. He and the hell hounds were starving so
this was a good thing, If they had been healthy humans. He'd have to drink the tainted disgusting blood
and push the drugs out of his body.
"You bring me the worst kind to feed from?" Isaiah said. "Perhaps I simply won't feed." He challenged
and the look in his eyes was fairly serious. The man who looked no older than Isaiah glared at him.
"You will or we will continue to bring you this low level scum. The last group were all healthy, and had
intelligence. It is hard to get such groups without being noticed." Which was the truth.
"Let me out. You won't have to worry about it." He would have no worries. Isaiah would kill him in a
heartbeat.
"This is what you get. We don't care so long as you are fed."
"If I want to feed." He said in a dangerous tone.
"You'll feed because you'd go crazy if you don't and you know it. You can't stop yourself forever. You'll
turn feral and kill the first one you can get your hands on for blood. I know your game."
"I can hold out long enough. Long enough for a few of you to die from the starvation of it." The man
looked at Isaiah. Isaiah might let himself get so weak that magic would start to break for those in the
family connected to him. They both knew if he got angry enough he'd do it. The number attached to
him was also a reason he had to have so many to feed from.
"But I won't." With that he turned and Isaiah slapped the unseen barrier in anger with a snarl. Then he
looked at the group. He let out a loud and odd sound. Instantly Zeta, Beta, and Alpha came down the
stairs.
"Just take what you need no more. We must let this group dry out." There was a low growl of
disapproval from the three of them.
"Agreed." Isaiah hissed.
Isaiah waited watching the group. Disgusting, but he was starving and needed it. Why couldn't one of
them have survived from before? Then he could last the days it would take for this group to use their
drugs and dry out.
This was going to be a very dull month. Plus none seemed all that bright, perhaps it would get better
once they were over their needs. The barrier came down as the safe time passed, and he moved
forward. Walked in the room and picked the one least on a high. Right in front of them all bit into the
man's neck and pulled the energy and blood from him. There were stunned looks and not a lot of
movement at first as they watched what looked like a vampire feed from their friend.
His blood was tainted with what he thought might be cocaine. He was also slightly drunk. Just great,
just what he wanted to push through his system. It wasn't until the hell hounds grabbed the ones that
they wanted did the others start shouting and running from the room. Unsteady though it was, and
ridiculous to see the way they acted.
Isaiah felt the weakness and tiredness leave him. His senses going instantly sharp and he stood there
for a good five minutes. The hell hounds ate their fill of the humans leaving very little bone or flesh, but
a good bloody mess. He on the other hand was waiting for the moment the drugs would push back up.
What his body would reject.
Isaiah turned and marched from the room into the kitchen and was violently sick in the sink. Toxins did
not mix with him. If left in his body it would deteriorate him to nothing but a feral beast and he'd rather
be a rational thinking killing machine than that.
He dry heaved a few times but straightened up, and turned on the water. He rinsed his mouth from the
taste there and spit it out. He turned and could hear the group running around looking for a way out.
Isaiah moved to the room he'd just been in and grabbed anything that was a drug.
He went back to the kitchen, opened the door and tossed them outside. He slammed the door and the
glass shattered out of it but was already fixing itself a second later. The hell hounds had moved off
going to watch the humans scurry about. There was something oddly funny about watching humans
like this group. They were very low on the intelligence ladder in his opinion.
Walking to leave the kitchen from a different door, he nearly tripped as he came to such a sudden stop.
It looked like he'd been tripped by an invisible wire for a second. Isaiah took a few steps back and took
a deep breath moving around the kitchen. It wasn't possible they hadn't felt or smelled anyone in the
house. But for one second he smelled it, and it was like being hit by a freight train. A clean scent
among the filth.
But it was there, the faint smell of citrus and flowers. So unique like the woman that it belonged to and
he apparently had greatly underestimated her. How had she managed to go unnoticed this entire time?
It had never happened before. He moved down the hall but the scent wasn't there just briefly in the
kitchen.
Just what triggered her to leave the smell behind? Was it really that or a phantom smell, wishful
thinking? He took another breath, no it was there. Clearly she didn't give it off all the time. Now he was
extremely curious and pissed at the same time. She'd been here the whole time while he'd grown weak
and had to feed from those in the other room?
He wanted suddenly to wrap his hands around her slender throat and punish her for it. He didn't care if
it was survival for her. He was sure she was there, and he'd had to feed from trash. How had they
missed her? How was he going to track her with no scent? No signature he could find! Where the hell
was she hiding!
He tore through the house like a madman looking for a hint of the smell, but nothing. It was starting to
drive him insane. He knew that he'd smelled it, was positive. Maybe it really was just a false phantom
smell. Zeta looked at him as he darted past where she was.
He ignored the humans he did come across. He needed to know if he'd been fooled for more than a
week by a human. He slowed thinking, maybe this wasn't such a bad thing after all. He wanted a
challenge, didn't he? It was what he enjoyed to pass the time. Clair had given him one without even
realizing it.
Isaiah continued moving through the house trying to find the smallest hint of her. Looking for anything
but it was like she was a ghost living in his home. Perhaps that was exactly what she was, but he
wouldn't be satisfied until he knew for sure.
It was near midnight when he found himself in the greenhouse area. He was growing discouraged as
he entered the greenhouse. Then just barely, but it was there her scent, and he moved forward. He
moved toward the door in the back. He hadn't been to this part of the house in years. There was
nothing down there that he cared to do. Humans avoided it because it was a dead end hall. A trap.
A few bedrooms along with an art room and dark room. He opened the door and moved down the
stairs there and turned the corner. He caught it again and this made him more excited. It led him to the
door nearly at the very end and he opened it.
The light came on and he stepped into the room, it was the art room. The air was heavy with her scent.
It was addictive, so strong it hit him like a fist to the gut. He had to stand there for a second letting it
wash over him. It took a minute for him to calm the rush and need that went through his body. He
moved forward.
The room was clean but a few things were moved out of place, set up differently than he remembered.
He looked around the room to find what she'd been doing in here. The feeling of the room was totally
different than the rest of the house.
It wasn't depressing or angry, it held a very positive air, a clean and refreshing change for him, perhaps
that was why it hit him so hard. It made him giddy like the drugs did to those moving through his home
now. He just wanted to sit in here and soak it in. Better yet wait for her to show up, it was clear that she
enjoyed this place.
Then it hit him. It seemed that her scent was only released when she felt a positive emotion. She had
to be just as starving as he was, as the hell hounds had eaten all the food. In the kitchen she would
have been excited and happy to get food. He was confused about what it was in this room she enjoyed
so much.
The more he thought to wait, the more a weight seemed to press down on his chest. Interesting the
house was acting of its own accord on her behalf. He had ignored this room, and she had come in and
set up shop clearly giving it her attention and care. It wanted to keep her around, this was odd. Humans
didn't tend to find things to occupy their time in this house. She was interesting, a freak of a human.
Isaiah opened the different drawers and doors. He came to one closet that had her scent on it stronger
than the others and he opened it. He slid open the cabinet there and looked at the labeling on it.
Greenhouse, general house, I.Z.A.B. He grabbed the greenhouse one first, opening it and moving to
the table. He pulled out the papers in it. He was amazed by the detail and skill in these pictures. Some
of them he would have thought were photographs.
He knew where each of these plants were located above him and he was really intrigued now. He put
them back and grabbed the next section, in here were drawings of the house. One was of the rose on
the ballroom floor. She had been on the roof. It was the only place to have seen this. He flipped them
over and on the back he saw a neat and scrolling hand written note.
Ballroom floor- Mosaic Rose.
He put it back and grabbed the last one. He wasn't sure what the letters stood for but he didn't think
that he would be unimpressed by whatever she had drawn in here. Everything else was so real and
life-like. He couldn't remember meeting someone with this kind of skill. Though he'd never really looked
before. No one did anything but hide or fight in this place.
He pulled the first drawing out and stood frozen in place. The one that he'd pulled out first was the one
where he'd been playing the piano. Zeta was on top of it and the others were laying down. Beta on the
chase lounge. It was so real, and such a feeling in it that he could almost believe the drawing was alive.
He pushed the drawing back in and snapped the hanging file closed. He moved from the room opening
the door.
"I'm not going to do anything to them." He said as he felt that oppressive weight again it was harsh and
almost painful. He'd never been attacked like that before by the house. The magic here made it a living
thing. The weight was instantly gone at his words, and he moved with quick and graceful movements to
his part of the house.
Isaiah went up the glass staircase and into his room. He shut the door and moved over to push the
couch out of the way. He unsnapped the portfolio and pulled the pictures out one by one laying them on
the floor. He now knew what I.Z.A.B. Stood for, she'd been watching them all this time and none of
them had known it.
He looked at the two of the piano room first. The images so different. One felt hopeless and almost evil
while the other felt peaceful and calm. She'd seen what had happened. She'd been there but they
hadn't known it, how? How was she moving through the house? Because they would have seen her in
this room.
Isaiah looked at the portraits of him and the hell hounds. She caught each of the hell hounds perfectly.
Exactly what their personalities were. He didn't need to look at the back to know who was who. He
looked at his own portrait staring at it. He didn't know what to make of it. Couldn't have been more like
him unless he held a mirror up.
"These are exceptional." He said and he wanted to be able to do this. To draw with such skill and
passion. It was clear that she had a passion for this. The emotions in the images were crisp and clear,
how she saw the objects. However he could not read her mind, couldn't take from her what he could
others.
Clair might have just bought herself an extended amount of time to live, if he could catch her. She was
clearly far better at this game than he had originally thought. He moved to the door and opened it. He'd
already known that Zeta, Beta, and Alpha were there. They came in curious as to his mood and
attitude. They shifted over to the drawings and stared at them. Their perception of them was different
but each knew which was theirs.
‘I like.’ Zeta said mentally and the other two concurred with her.
‘She lives?’
"Yes, and she is playing a very good game. Perhaps without even knowing it." This was exciting to him.
This human was quick, smart and talented. When he caught her, he was going to enjoy it immensely.
"If you find her, bring her to me. I don't want her killed yet." He ordered and the three nodded moving
off to go and do as they pleased. He looked down at the drawings, looking at his own. He gathered
them up and put them back in the folder and placed them on the couch. It was time to go hunting, and
his prey was clearly the cunning sort.
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