It was the look in his eyes that did her in. The complete heartbreak behind the crystal blue. A mist of sadness threatening to spill over the water line as his nostrils flared and he grit his teeth. He’d remained still, standing just inside the door frame, not daring to take a step closer to her.

She did not like the look in his eyes.

“It’s not what you think,” she breathed, her voice just above a whisper as she fought back her own urge to cry.

His first tear fell. “You… you’re…”

It was a quick flick of movement, but she saw it. His hand had twitched, fighting the urge to arm himself. Fighting between his duty towards life or his duty towards love.

“It was self defense,” she breathed, taking a step in his direction but freezing when he fully reached for the weapon at his hip.

“No,” he gritted, removing his gun from its holster. “Don’t. Don’t you dare. I’m not an idiot, Eloise.”

The hurt in his voice was thick, and her throat closed around a lump as her own tears began to flow. Instinctively, she went to wipe it away, but the blood smeared from her hands only served to deepen his resolve.

He aimed the firearm. “Don’t move.”

This could not be happening. Her heart was slamming in her chest. “Jamison… please…” She took one step forward.

“Don’t!” He growled, eyes hard and steady. “Do. Not. Move.”

She froze again. “Jamie.”

“You don’t get to call me that. Not any more.” His voice cracked.

Her face crumbled. “I don’t want to hurt you… please…”

She could see the slight tremble of the firearm he tightly held in his hands. “I don’t have a choice,” he grit out.

“Yes. You do,” she breathed. “You always have a choice. Just let me explain.”

His eyes darted behind her, taking in the state of the lifeless body that laid there. He’d walked in on her as she’d ripped open the man's chest, digging beneath his rib cage and pulling out his heart, which now lay discarded on the ground, dropped when she realized she was no longer alone.

“What is there to explain? What other lies do you want to feed me?” When his eyes found hers again, she felt like she could drown in his anger.

“Put the gun away, Jamison,” she pleaded. “Let’s talk. Please. I have never lied to you. Not once.”

His grip on the weapon tightened. “Withholding information is lying, Eloise. You know who I am. You know what I do. How else did you imagine this ending?”

“I would hope that you knew me as well. That you know who I am. That you know there is more to all of this. That you would at least be willing to hear me out!” Her own anger began to simmer to the surface. “All of this,” she gestured behind her,” does not change what you know about me. It doesn’t change who I am.”

His face twisted in disgust. “You’ve clearly been hiding who you truly are.”

She scoffed, moving to wipe away another string of tears, but this time, the sticky metallic liquid caking her hands smeared the corner of her lips and she had to fight the urge to dart her tongue out to taste its sweetness. “He wasn’t like me, you know.” She breathed, taking the opportunity in his hesitancy to kill her. “We don’t share the same cursed gene.” She turned to look at the dead man. “There are bad seeds and there are good seeds within your kind, just the same. Why are we all labeled monsters, but humans don’t judge themselves the same?” When she met Jamison’s eyes again, he again tightened the hold on his gun, fighting the urge to relax and let his guard down.

Jamison’s eyes darted to the body again.

Eloise continued. “I am not a monster.” She couldn’t hold back her sob. “I couldn’t let him live. I couldn’t let him keep doing what he was doing… all of those missing women…”

“You could have just reported him.”

“Then what? He gets locked up? He gets to repent? He gets a second chance?” She scoffed. “No. Had it been one of us, you all wouldn’t have hesitated to take us out. I wanted to make sure he suffered the same fate.”

He looked at her for a long moment. There was no understanding in his eyes. He’d made his choice as soon as he walked through that door.

Eloise allowed herself to smile, tears still streaking down her cheeks. “You won’t even be able to pull the trigger,” she whispered and her tongue finally glided across the corner of her lips, tasting the familiar life energy she always craved and desperately needed.

His jaw clenched. “Go to hell.”

The gun fired, but she was already at his back, embracing him, pinning his arms to his side in a hold as solid as stone. “I’m sorry,” she breathed in his ear before sinking her teeth into the flesh of his neck.

His screams were a distant thought as the warm life liquid hit her tongue in a gush of flavor. He didn’t squirm for long, and only when his body went limp did she pull back, slowly laying his limp form on the floor.

Her eyes drifted to her first victim of the night. She hadn’t wanted to enjoy his blood. She had no desire to drink from the body of such a vile man. Yet she’d ripped his heart out just the same, a ritual to prevent a human turning.

Now, as she looked down at her fiance, her lover for the past five years, she knew she’d have to gut him just the same, tears be damned.