In the center of the shop, surrounded by burnt out candles, lay the body of another victim.

Well, a soon-to-be victim.

She’s perfect, too.  Young and vibrant.  So much life to give, and she’s going to give it to me.

She doesn’t hear the chime of the bell above the door as I enter.  The smells of vanilla and lavender assault my nostrils and loud, hypnotic music plays over the speakers of the mom-and-pop bookshop.  Shelves of books, candles and incense are only slightly visible in the dimly-lit space. 

The girl is on her back, arms and legs pointed out like she’s a starfish, and white candles form a blazing circle around her.  Her eyes are closed, and she’s anointed herself with some kind of oil. 

I just think it’s so cute when people douse themselves with strong smells to keep the monsters away.  She’s so into her little meditation that I could kill her right now, and she’d never know what hit her.

I keep watching her, and my cells practically dance with excitement.  I haven’t drained anyone in at least three months.  My wrinkled hands tremor just a little bit at my sides, and I can feel tiny drops of water dripping from each of my fingers.  I clench my fists a few times to will the leaking to stop, and a wave of nausea rolls through me.

It takes a lot of energy to look like I’m alive.

“Excuse me, miss,” I say in a rickety Southern drawl that doesn’t match the vitality of my soul.

The girl nearly jumps out of her skin and into the circle of flames as she leaps to her feet and spins to look at me.  Her blue eyes are wide with panic, but when she sees that I’m just a kindly, stooped old lady, her hand goes to her chest and she breathes in relief.

“Oh my God, you scared me,” she says, with a little laugh. 

I can see the pulse in her neck fluttering fast.  If I had enough energy, I could focus in and hear the sound of her rapid heartbeat. 

“I’m sorry, dear,” I say in my best harmless grandmother voice.  “You looked so peaceful doing your little prayers that I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“No, it’s okay,” she says, her hand still over her heart.  “I should have waited until we closed.  But it’s been so quiet today, I thought I could squeeze it in.”

“So sorry to interrupt.”

She smiles at me and shakes her head, and she’s careful to step out of her protective circle without burning her legs.  It takes everything in me not to grab her right then, but she’s already jumpy and I know I need to slow-play it so it doesn’t turn into a chase.  She can outrun me in my current state, and I just can’t have that tonight.

“No problem at all,” she says.  “What can I help you find?”

“I’ve been told that y’all have the best-smelling candles in town,” I say, and her face lights up.

“We totally do!” she says, clapping her hands together.  “What scents do you like?”

She walks me over to a big wall of handmade, ridiculously overpriced candles.  They do smell nice; I’ll give her that.  Not $30 nice, though.  I pick up a few and smell them while she waxes poetic about how they’re all made in-store every day and that I could get the super great deal of 5 for $100. 

If I hadn’t already planned to kill her, I definitely will now.

“How can I pass up a deal like that?” I ask.

She claps in glee and grabs a little basket and starts to arrange five big candles for me.  I look at the circle of white candles on the floor again.

“What’s all that for?” I ask.

“They say the day after Halloween, the veil between the two worlds is so thin that you have to protect yourself against evil spirits. I dressed those candles in a special oil to ward against _you know who_.”

A little thrill goes up my spine at her conspiratorial look.

“You know who?” I ask.

“Yeah, come on, you know.”  She stops her candle arranging and puts her hands on her hips while she looks at me like I’ve been living in a cave.  I shrug like I haven’t got a clue.  “The Lady in the Lake,” she says and looks around like the Lady in the Lake might be in the room with us.

If she only knew.

“Who’s that?”

“You’re not from around here, are you?”  I shake my head and she sighs, returning to wrapping the candle basket in clear wrap so she can add a pretty little bow to it.  “You know Lake Lanier, that big resort down the road?”  I nod.  “It’s the most haunted lake in America.”

“Is that so?”

“Oh yeah, people die there all the time.  In freaky ways, too.  Drownings, weird accidents, all that kind of stuff.  They flooded a town a long time ago and built that lake on top of a cemetery.”  She makes a show of shivering.  “No way I’d ever build something on top of a cemetery.”

“That does seem to be in poor taste,” I agree.

“Anyway, they say it’s a lady who haunts the lake and kills those people.”

“And these candles will protect you from her?”

She spins around, fancy little candle basket in hand, and offers it to me.

“Absolutely.  And you too, once you light these.”

She smiles so proudly at me, and I return the smile.  She offers the basket to me, but I hold up my hand.

“This is just so beautiful,” I say.  “Thank you for making this for me.  Could I have a hug?”

Her smile gets even bigger, and she set the basket down as she says, “of course!”  She opens her arms for me and I almost feel bad for what I’m going to do.  Emphasis on almost. 

I squeeze her good and tight and, and my hands leak so much that they soak through her white bookstore T-shirt.  My arms, feet, and face drip, too, and by the time she pulls away to ask what’s going on, it’s too late.  The last thing she ever sees is my face, my real face, haggard and hungry.  She starts to open her mouth to scream, but that’s exactly what I want.  I hold the back of her neck tightly, lean in, open my mouth, and suck the very life out of her body like a vacuum hose. 

Her life energy flows out of her mouth and into mine in a dark blue stream.  There’s no sound.  There’s no blood.  It’s a painless death, I think, and with every piece transferred from her to me, her body decays while mine replenishes.  My back straightens, my vision brightens, and I’m not so drippy anymore.  The hands that had just been wrinkly and shaky are now youthful and steady.  It feels like waking up.  Like coming back from death, just like I did that day I was drowned in the lake.

When I’ve taken every bit of her life that she had to offer, I release my grip on her neck and her skeletal body crumbles to the floor.  I take a life-affirming breath and smile because I’m good for at least another few months now.  I turn to leave, but then I spot the candle basket.  I pick it up and look at the girl on the floor.  My wet handprints are on the back of her shirt, and there’s a puddle of water around her.  It’ll probably be morning before anyone finds her, and well, I’m not a total monster.  I take her cell phone out of her back pocket and push the option for an emergency call.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“There’s a dead girl in a bookstore,” I say, and I hang up before they can ask any more questions.  There are only so many bookstores around.  They’ll figure it out eventually.

And by the time they do, I’ll be back in the lake.