Cassandra looked smart as she walked past the desk clerk at the Holiday Inn, heading toward the dining room. Her long raven hair was pulled into a ponytail and it fell to the middle of her back. She had on a Navy business suit with a double-breasted top, a sheer, cream-colored silk blouse, and a small gold chain around her neck. The skirt came to just above her knee. On her feet she had sensible black pumps and wore sheer pantyhose on her legs. The only other jewelry was a pair of diamond studs in her ears. Her skin had an olive cast, which made her appear Semitic. Her eyes were large and deep blue. She wore dark red lip-gloss. She smiled at the desk clerk, and turned the corner as if she were going to enjoy a late dinner. In a way, she was.
The dining room was large and comfortable, done up in wood paneling and a deep carpet. The bar was in the corner, opposite the receptionist's desk. There was no cocktail lounge. There was a lounge outside of the dining room where people sat in large, overstuffed easy chairs and enjoyed a drink while awaiting their table. A cocktail waitress was covering it. There was also a Steinway Baby Grand, where a young music student from the nearby university was playing requests. She had a tip jar on the piano.
Cassandra stood by the piano and waited until the student finished her song. She dropped a twenty into the tip jar and requested "Music of the Night" from "Phantom of the Opera." She settled into an easy chair, requested a glass of white wine from the cocktail waitress, and listened to the pianist with a contented smile.
Cassandra began to scan the room. A young man, blonde hair nicely styled, with gold rim glasses, a touch of a tan, and a very clean shave caught her eye. He looked fit. He had on a dark grey business suit, a white oxford button-down, and a power tie. He was smiling at a young woman, occasionally glancing in Cassandra's direction.
Cassandra looked deeper. The man was thirty-five, traveling on business, and working his way up the corporate ladder. He was married, and his wife was three months pregnant with their first child. He had started cheating on his wife one month after their return from honeymoon.
Cassandra stood up and walked to the piano again. She dropped another twenty into the tip jar and requested another Andrew Lloyd Webber tune. She caught the man's eye, smiled at him, and headed back to her chair, where she crossed her legs, took a small sip of wine, and smiled at him again. He never had a chance.
The man crossed the room and sat in the chair next to Cassandra. The two made small talk. It was obvious to the man what Cassandra wanted, and he was very wrong. He invited her to join him at dinner. She declined. Her explanation was that she had eaten at work. She would, however, sit at the table and keep him company. She was not hungry.
The couple, after a short wait, proceeded to their table. Cassandra had a second glass of white wine, which she drank very slowly. The executive had a steak, baked potato, salad, a slice of rich chocolate cake for dessert, and two cups of steaming black coffee. He ate with gusto and rarely stopped talking. Cassandra smiled, interjected occasionally with small, female remarks such as "Oh, my!" and waited.
When dinner ended, the couple went back to the lounge, where the man had another drink. And then they headed to his room, walking slowly. The man, really, never had a chance. Cassandra could look sexy in a burlap bag. Cassandra had marked him and he was hers. The man was already half-erect.
As soon as the couple entered the man's room, he began to strip. Cassandra smiled and went into the bathroom. She took off her jacket, shoes, skirt, blouse, and pantyhose. She wore no bra and panties. She undid her hair and left it fall free. Then she wrapped herself in a bath towel and entered the bedroom.
Her prey greeted her. He had dimmed the lights and pulled back the bedclothes. He was lying on the bed wearing only white boxers. He smiled, and asked her why she wasn't naked. He loved seeing his women naked.
Cassandra giggled and put the tip of her right index finger between her teeth. "It's a girl thing," she responded.
She crossed the floor to the bed, where she dropped the towel and slid onto the bed in one fluid, catlike motion. The man approved. This woman was hot. He pulled the bedclothes up to their waists, and the couple embraced and kissed.
Cassandra stroked his chest while the man explored her charms with his hands. He was gentle, but clumsy. Cassandra really didn't care. She began to gently nibble and kiss his throat, playing with the fingers of her left hand. She moved lower.
In a few minutes, the man was fully into the heat of his passion. Cassandra found the spot on his throat and bit. She didn't bite hard. She bit enough to get the blood flowing, enlarged her cuts a bit, and began to feed. Her left hand was keeping his mind occupied with pleasure.
Cassandra did not need to take a lot. She was, after all, over 4500 years old, and rarely needed to feed. She did feed to keep in practice. Her taste ran to married men in their thirties who cheated on their wives. They were easy to find at hotels and bars. And they were very easy to seduce and consume.
When she had finished her feeding, she softly whispered "Sleep" into the man's ear. She got out of the bed, entered the bathroom, and dressed. As she was leaving the room, she glanced at the bed and smiled. His memory would be of one very satisfying night with an Egyptian woman.
Cassandra headed back to the parking lot, passing the front desk and smiling at the night clerk. She walked across the lot, found her Acura, and headed back to her haven in Philadelphia. She had one more thing that had to be done in the next few weeks. She needed a ghoul. After she had the ghoul for a year and the ghoul was properly trained, she could set her plan in motion.
The plan would be flawless, and cause another vampire to die the "Final Death."