Somehow Lucca can sense your intent and for the first time in all the years you've known her, she seems truly afraid. "Agad the Imperishable," she pleads, "You wouldn't…"
"It's too late for regrets now, Lucca," you say as you bare your fangs and pull her head sideways, granting you access to the supple skin of her neck. She struggles at first, but slowly she gives in as the strength saps out of her in waves of vitae as you gorge yourself on deeply forbidden fruit. She tastes sweet somehow, and as her Blood dribbles down the back of your throat, you feel more invigorated than you ever have in your un-life. You could tear a car in half, convince an entire flock of mortals to leap to their deaths without breaking a sweat. You see the world and the stars surrounding it as if you were up there with them, treading the cosmos while comets shoot past in a radiant display that exists only for your pleasure.
And then you're back on Earth, the last droplets of Lucca's precious vitae pulled from her cold, dead corpse. You feel different—more than a mere increase in power—it's as though your perception of the world has been altered in a hundred subtle ways that you can't necessarily put a finger on. Deep analysis of the change will have to wait, though. You can't forget the large group of mortal assailants in the other room.
Lucca's body slowly grows old and feeble, sagging against the rebar as it slumps downward like it's aged decades in a matter of seconds. She's in the grip of final death, and there will be no coming back.