It feels like days before she comes to him again, and he sits alert at the sound of her steps.
"Why have you waited so long to come to me, Naamah?" He hears her sharp intake of breath, and grits his teeth at the strength of the fingers digging into his flesh.
"Where did you hear my name?", She growls. "You told me! You told me when you came to me the other night!" "I did no such thing. Tell me what happened."
"You know, Naamah. Don't play games. I want you to do it again, right now! Fuck, I want to die like this!" "My sister?" She murmers, feeling the rage swell within her.
"Naamah." She looks up at him, awaiting his request. He has evoked her name after all, and names hold power over their bearers.
"Please touch me again." He sounds so pathetic to his own ears, but he can't help himself. He knows deep down she can kill him with her touch. It's how his friends died, and he wants it too. Her, and death. Preferably in that order.
"That was a trick. A trick from my sister, wicked bitch and you fell for it." She growls fighting his hold on her. She gets up and storms towards the door.
"Stop. Come back." "I can't. Please don't make me."
"Why not?" He asks, despairing her rejection. She's suddenly there again, ripping the blindfold from his eyes. Long wicked fangs gleam in the dim light, dripping saliva.
"Because I'm hungry!" She screams in his face, and leaves before he can say another word.