Watchers and Others were able to evade him, except when they were within range. At that point, no one was able to withstand what he could do.
She was a Natural. He'd never heard of one with this skill. Xander had to stop himself from following. There were too few things that intrigued him after an eternity of living. This woman was one. Stronger than his curiosity was the knowledge that he wanted nothing to do with whatever Jonny was planning, no doubt against the White God, his sworn enemy. Xander knew what he'd do with the attractive woman, after fucking her. He'd send her in to spy on his enemies.
Maybe the teen god was figuring things out on his own, after the godslayer floundered for months with the responsibilities that came with leading his army of vamps.
As long as this Natural didn't show up in Xander's house, he was going to let her go. Unusually dissatisfied at the idea of releasing a potentially fun prey into the wild, Xander remained a moment longer. They disappeared around a corner, and he left.
He returned to the glaring brightness of the condo. His television show was playing on the large, flat screen television in the main living area. He ignored it and went to the kitchen for coffee, the only human beverage he was able to tolerate.
Ingrid was clapping at the television, and his gaze flickered to the screen. She was watching the latest of his two TV shows, the one where he was a cook. The stage kitchen was dark, except for red candles around the counter area where he did the prep for whatever he was making. He cooked bare-chested, wearing black chinos, his dark hair clasped at the base of his neck. Every episode, something exploded. Because apparently, to humans, explosions were more interesting than the fact they were watching him - a creature that hunted humans - cook their food. He loved the irony of it all.
"I'm your biggest fan girl. I've seen every episode a million times," Ingrid said with her normal dramatic flare. "It's so obvious why this is the number one show right now."
"Sex and explosions," he replied. "Women watch for me, and men like things that blow up."
"I'm pretty sure men watch for you, too."
Xander grunted and poured the first of many cups of coffee.
"Ingrid, morning duties."
She stood obediently and walked away from the television, down the hallway to his room. Every day started the same: she escorted his nightly meal-toy out of the condo. Xander took his coffee and went onto the balcony. He propped his feet up and checked his watch.