Reagan stays

Carla sits on the sofa in her bedroom, reading. She is wearing the black silk robe from the previous night, slowly sipping on a glass of warm blood.

Ah, B+, my favorite she thinks as she savors the fluid, wondering which "donor" in the basement it was sourced from. She mulls over her engagement with the prostitute the previous evening in her mind slowly.

She looked so much like my Emma Carla thinks wistfully, feeling herself becoming aroused as she plays through the events in her mind. How soft her skin was, how sweet her blood ... Carla thinks, her nipples hardening and her mouth watering.
Carla is snapped from her reverie when she hears a knock at the door. She smiles, having told her staff to only disturb her for one reason. The door silently cracks open, and Reagan enters, her arm firmly held by Vanessa, Carla's head of staff. Reagan is wearing the same clothes as well, her jeans and cardigan. Reagan stares at the floor nervously.

"That will be all Vanessa, thank you" Carla says perfunctorily waving her assistant away. Vanessa bows her head slightly and backs out of the room, closing the door with a click. The room is silent for a moment as Carla looks up and down the anxious human. She waits for Reagan to speak first, enjoying the tension. Carla sips from her glass, watching Reagan over the rim of her glass, her foot gently tapping over her crossed legs.

Finally, Reagan speaks, timidly. "I... Um... What are you?" Reagan stutters, struggling for words before finally speaking directly. Carla smiles, letting her fangs descend and click into place prominently.

"I think you know exactly what I am" Carla says confidently. "Surely you've seen the movies? Or have I bought the one truly innocent call girl?" she says sarcastically. "Come, sit with me child" Carla says, her expression softening. She uses just enough of her persuasive powers for Reagan to not really have a choice, but also to not pick up on Carla's control either. Reagan moves to the sofa, sitting next to Carla. Reagan looks at Carla's glass.
"Is that..." Reagan begins.

"Blood?" Carla finishes for her. "Yes. It's human blood." Carla watches the wheels turn in Reagan's head and smiles. Carla makes an exaggerated showing off sipping the blood, closing her eyes and saying "mmmm". She opens her eyes to see Reagan wide eyed, staring at her. In a fluid, rapid, motion, Carla leans in to surprise Reagan with a kiss, the blood still on her lips. Reagan is stiff at first, surprised, but then softens into the kiss. But Carla can sense Reagan's slight repulsion at what is (to humans at least) an acrid and metallic flavor.

"Can you taste it?" Carla whispers into Reagan's ear.

"The blood?" Reagan asks.

"No" Carla says cryptically, "the life. Blood is life". Reagan shudders a bit. Carla chuckles a bit too herself. Reagan is not the first human she's seen react like this. Disoriented, frightened, but inexorably drawn to her. It remains to be seen whether this little lamb will be a temporary diversion, or something more she thinks.

"Your blood was sweeter of course, young one" Carla purrs, kissing Reagan softly on your forehead. Looking at Reagan's neck, Carla sees the now fading marks from her bite.

Reagan looks nervously at the floor. "Do you...kill people?" she asks timidly, barely above a whisper.
"And if I did?" Carla replies, her flippant tone all but answering without directly answering. "Would that frighten you? Or perhaps excite you?" Carla taunts, her eyes sparkling with a hint of malice. The room is quiet, Reagan not speaking, but also making no effort to get up, to get away. Carla lifts Reagan's chin with finger, forcing Reagan to look at her.

"Don't judge me" she says, her tone softening. "You know nothing of my life. You don't know anything at all". The statement sounds less like a request for sympathy and more like a command.
Carla puts the glass down and reclines on the couch, spreading her legs and pulling Reagan to lay back against her, Reagan's butt between Carla's legs and her head on Carla's chest. Carla strokes Reagan's hair, as her other hand softly rubs circles over Reagan's tummy.

"Are you going to kill me?" Reagan asks.

"No" Carla says, not having made me mind up. So not a lie, at least not yet. Carla turns Reagan's head towards her and they kiss over Reagan's shoulder, Carla's fingers slipping under the hem of Reagan's cardigan. The skin on Reagan's tummy is soft and smooth. Carla can her Reagan's heartbeat becoming more rapid as Carla's tongue slips into Reagan's mouth. Her hand slides up, cupping Reagan's breast through her bra.

"You have such delicious lips, little one" Carla murmurs, before resuming the slow passionate kiss.

"Thank you Mommy" Reagan breathes huskily, Carla smelling her arousal. Hearing Reagan call her Mommy, outside of the very specific role play of the previous night, momentarily throws Carla off balance. She simply didn't expect it. Reagan's uncanny resemblance to her Emma is a bit disorienting. Don't let your guard down, don't let your games become more than they are Carla tells herself.

Carla drags her fingertips along the carotid artery in Reagan's pretty neck. She feels Reagan's pulse. Maybe I should just drain this little cow right here Carla thinks, worried about becoming too entangled with this human. She served her purpose, kill her and move on. But Carla doesn't, there is something about her...

"I'm hungry" Carla says abruptly, sitting up, "and I'd like you to join me for my dinner".