Promotions

The con suite was closing at around two o’clock; Morgana had spent the rest of the night in cheerful self-absorption with a crowd of appreciative fans. As the crowd began to dissipate and depart in search of late parties or their rooms, Morgana stood in the rapidly-emptying hallway, slightly piqued at her unusual lack of success at finding someone to Feed from, when she heard a hesitant voice from behind her say “Er, Dr. Black?”

Morgana turned in mild surprise to see a tall, slender man in his mid-20s standing several feet behind her. She briefly narrowed her eyes in examining his open, earnest stare, short blond hair and loose T‑shirt advertising last year’s convention, then nodded to herself in satisfaction.

“I know it’s late,” he continued, taking her nod for permission to continue, “but I didn’t want to interrupt you earlier. You did say we could talk to you later. That is, if you still have the time tonight.”

Morgana smiled broadly, warmly. “Of course I have the time: the night’s still young,” she said. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

He looked aside and down at the floor, everywhere but directly at Morgana. Finally he looked up and stared confusedly at her. “Well, I …” he stammered a moment, and then looked down at the floor again.

Morgana smiled indulgently, reading the name ‘James’ on his badge, then stepped forward to take his arm. James gave one small, surprised squeak as she gently pulled him along, beguilingly smiling to him to silence any resistance. She led him through the maze of corridors until they come to a small, hidden alcove, where a pair of large padded chairs rested against the wall. Morgana sat in one of the chairs and directed James to sit in the other.

“You were at my show this evening, weren’t you? In the front row?” asked Morgana, leaning over the arm of the chair to study him intently. James nodded, staring back at her in mingled wonder and confusion. “I thought you looked familiar. What did you think of it?”

“It was, it was … fascinating,” he replied in amazement. “I had never seen anything like it.”

“Did you participate in the suggestibility test?”

James shook his head. “I wanted to see what it was like, first.”

“And what did you want to talk to me about, James?” she asked provocatively, flirtatiously tilting her head and lifting one expressive eyebrow in inquiry.

James blushed a furious, fiery red. Unbidden, a loud laugh escaped Morgana’s lips. He tried to stand, but Morgana laid her hand on his; when he turned in bewilderment to her, she caught his eyes and gently commanded “Sit.” Unable to resist, James relaxed limply back into his chair, his face still burning red.

Morgana smiled knowingly. “You want me to hypnotize you, don’t you?” she said calmly, raising an eloquent eyebrow in amusement.

James looked away. “I don’t think I can ask …” he began.

“You don’t have to ask, James,” she said seductively, interrupting him.

James turned back to Morgana with a wide-eyed look of astonishment.

Morgana smiled inwardly. Based on her long experience, she easily recognized that he was a highly susceptible hypnotic subject, that her beguiling charm and beauty and his fascination with her and hypnosis had already totally captivated him, and that his reaction was already awakening the heat of her Hunger.

“Listen very carefully to me now, James,” said Morgana, her voice turning low and sultry. “Look into my eyes.” He responded immediately, staring raptly into her dark eyes. She opened her eyes wide, revealing a captivating wheel of deepest night that grew larger and larger in his sight as she leaned closer.

“Look deep into my eyes, James; concentrate on my eyes,” she said slowly and distinctly. “My eyes are making you sleepy, James. It is very late, and you are very sleepy. You are going to sleep now, deep, deep sleep. Surrender to my eyes, James; surrender to sleep.”

James’ eyes began to water and flutter as he surrendered to the soft, sultry voice that spoke so soothingly of sleep. “Your eyes are tired,” she suggested, “tired and heavy, heavier and heavier with sleep.” His eyes began to blink heavily, each time taking longer and longer to open.

“Heavier and heavier, your eyes are very heavy now, James; so heavy with sleep,” said Morgana, her voice growing slower and softer. “Your eyes are very heavy, James; very, very heavy. Close your eyes, James, and sleep; close your eyes … and sleep: deep, deep sleep.”

James sighed softly as his eyes closed, and he sank back into the depths of the chair with a sleepy smile of pleasure on his lips. Morgana smiled kindly as she stroked his forehead for several moments, murmuring all the while “sleep; deep, deep sleep,” then she tilted his head back and leaned forward and sank her fangs into his jugular. James shuddered at the momentary flash of pain, then surrendered to the ecstasy of the Kiss.

Morgana drank deeply, then withdrew, all too quickly said a deep, hidden part of her mind, which she ardently ignored as she licked the wound clean and healed. James settled back into the chair, a blissful smile on his face.