Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the mortal girl starting to stir. For the first time, I could gaze upon her without distraction. She was shorter than I had noticed, barely five foot two and weighing I’d guess around 140 pounds. Don’t get me wrong, she was in no way unfit. She was curvy in the most delicious looking of ways.
She was unlike any girl I had ever kept as company. She wore knee high black leather boots with ripped up fishnet stockings. She had a kind of neo-punk (I think that’s what they call it) look going on. The black and purple plaid skirt she wore barely covered her ass and her skin-tight black t-shirt with the phrase ‘Motha Fuckin’ Princess’ on it was definitely an attention grabber.
Despite what I considered to be very nontraditional attire, she had the most Angelic look of any female I had ever seen. Even my Sire Tessa paled in comparison to the radiance of this mortal. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. She was beautiful, the perfect embodiment of grace and innocence wrapped in such a wickedly mischievous wrapper.
She pushed by me without saying a word. She grazed my arm as she passed me. Her caress felt like silk being drawn across my arm. She marched straight up to the Pureblood’s corpse and punted him in the gut repetitively as she screamed out, “You cock-sucking thundercunt!”
On second thought, I may have been just a wee bit off when it came to that whole innocence thing. The string of profanities which she shouted as she abused the Pureblood’s corpse would have made a sailor blush. I had never heard such cursing from anyone, no less from a young lady who looked like she did. Apparently, my Angelic epitome of innocence had the mouth of a forty year old truck driver. You can only imagine my dismay.