The succubus in Lost Girl sucks human life through her kiss. The Wraith of Stargate draw energy through their palm on a human’s chest. Vampires on The Vampire Diaries pierce skin with sharp fangs. But Daystealers are more civilized–they draw vapor through a penetrating stare.
Here is a scene in Daystealer when Trinidad steals a Day:
“I won’t hurt you. Promise,” I said, using his own words. Circling his eyes, I couldn’t remember my fifty lives, but I knew how my species survived, I knew how to take a Day—press thumbs between eyes, fingertips at temples, palms on cheeks, and lock eyes, forming the link for the potent draw.
Like bulrushes in a breeze, his Day rustled from his chest, through his skull, to his eyes. Usually the moist vapor traveling from human eyes into mine pops my ears, settles in my mouth, cold and foamy, and prickles my tongue before gliding down, but this human’s Day loitered in my throat. I wanted to gag but raw hunger seized control. Like swallowing putrid medicine, I forced his Day down, wondering all the while if it would hurt or heal.
Later in the novel, I describe how daystealing feels from a human’s point of view, “like sucking down an Icee while riding an elevator.”
Daystealers do have one thing in common with vampires and succubi–they both leave their victims with extreme satisfaction–an afterglow much like sex. It’s not surprising, then, that some humans donate their Days. Losing a day or two doesn’t sound too bad, right? Not until, like a meth attack, you wake up to find you’ve aged twenty years in ten.