Page 77 of As Twilight Falls


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“How do you feel?”

“Weird. This is the strangest dream I’ve ever had.”

He smiled faintly. “I’ll bet.”

“My stomach hurts. I’ve never felt pain in a dream before.”

He nodded. “I can make it go away, if you want.”

“Please.”

He was beside her while she was still speaking. A distant part of her mind told her she had to be dreaming. Otherwise, the sight of him biting into his wrist would have made her a little queasy. The scent of the blood oozing to the surface wouldn’t have smelled so inviting.

When he held his arm out toward her, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to lower her head and drink.

Surprisingly, it eased the pain in her stomach and she fell back on the mattress, and back into oblivion.

When she woke again, Saintcrow was lying on his side next to her.

“How are you feeling, Kadie?”

“Why do you keep asking me that?”

“Do you know where you are?”

“In your lair.”

“Do you know why?”

“Because I’m dreaming.” She smiled at him. “I’ve never had a dream quite like this one.”

“Listen to me,” he said. “You’re not dreaming.”

“Of course I am.”

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

“What do you mean?”

“Your old man came to tell you that your sister was dying and wanted to see you. Do you remember that?”

She frowned. Hadn’t that been part of her nightmare?

“Kadie?”

“I remember that. But we didn’t go to the hospital.”

“Where did you go?”

“He took me home. And locked me in the basement . . . and then I heard your voice in my head. I called Micah for help.” Her frown deepened. “He took me to the hospital to find you. You were strapped to a table.... My dad pulled a gun and . . . and he shot me.” She threw back the covers, her hands moving over her breast and belly. There were no wounds. But of course there weren’t. It had been a dream. “And then I woke up here.”

“What else do you remember?”

“I was dying. You begged me not to leave you. . . .”

He nodded. “What else?”

“I said I wanted to stay with you. . . .” She grimaced.

“You gave me your blood.”

He nodded again, every nerve on edge as he waited for her to make the connection.

Sitting up, she ran her hands up and down her arms, patted her face with her fingertips. “Vampire.”

The whispered word hung in the air between them.

“I’m a vampire.” She stared at him, her hands clenching and unclenching at her sides. “I can’t be a vampire. It’s not possible. Rylan, tell me I’m dreaming, please.”

“Would it be so bad if it was true?”

“I don’t want to give up steak and cheesecake, or lying on the beach in the sun, or playing golf with my dad. . . .” Her eyes grew wide. “My father will hate me now!”

“Kadie, calm down.”

“How can I? I’m not blaming you. I asked for this, but . . . I’ve changed my mind.”

“There’s no going back.” He cupped her face in his hands. “Look at me. There were only two choices, Kadie. This, or death.”

“I can’t be a vampire! I don’t want to spend the day locked inside a dark room. I don’t want to drink blood.” But she had, hadn’t she? Or had that been part of the dream?

Drawing her into his arms, Saintcrow said, “We all think that way, at first. Your body has already accepted the change. It will take your mind a little longer to adjust. As for the blood . . .” He made a shallow slice in his palm and held it out to her.

Kadie stared at the crimson liquid in his cupped hand. With her enhanced vision, it looked deeper, brighter, redder than anything she had ever seen. No wonder it was Saintcrow’s favorite color. An indrawn breath carried the scent to her nostrils, warm, sweet, sweeter than anything she had ever known. She licked her lips, felt a moment of shock as one of her teeth—one of her fangs—pricked her tongue. It didn’t matter. She couldn’t stop staring at the blood pooled in his hand.

“Do you want it?” Saintcrow asked.

She glared at him. “No.”

“Liar.”

“I hate you.”

“I know. Do you want it?”

“You know I do.”

“Then take it.”

She leaned forward, torn between her body’s craving and her mind’s revulsion.

Her body won.

She lapped it up like a kitten at a bowl of cream.

When she finished, she turned her back toward him, unable to meet his gaze.

“Kadie?”

She wiped her hand across her mouth, then shook her head. “Go away.”

“You’re embarrassed.”

She nodded.

“There’s no need to be.”

“Did you ever feel like this? As if you’d lost yourself ?”

“Yeah. It’s common for our kind to feel that way at f irst.”

“Our kind,” she repeated, her voice ever so soft. And then she lifted her head, her nostrils flaring. “What is that?”

“What’s what?”

“That sound? Like . . . like distant drums.”

“They’re heartbeats, Kadie. The heartbeats of the people in town. Compelling, aren’t they?”

She nodded. Compelling was putting it mildly. The sound sparked her hunger.

“Kadie, look at me. Tell me what you’re thinking.” He could have read her mind, but he wanted her to put it into words.

She shook her head, still not meeting his gaze.

“Okay, I’ll tell you. You want to go into town, sink your fangs into the first mortal you meet, and drink that person dry. Am I right?”

“Yes!” She turned on him, her eyes filled with torment. “Help me, Rylan. I don’t want to be a monster.”

“Shh.” He slipped his arm around her shoulders and drew her close. “You’re not a monster, sweetheart. You never will be. I won’t let that happen.” He kissed her cheeks, the tip of her nose, licked a bit of blood from the corner of her mouth. “Get dressed, my lovely fledgling. We’re going hunting.”

“I feel like a ninja,” Kadie remarked, staring at herself in a store window. She was clad in black from head to foot.

“You’re a creature of the night now,” Saintcrow said with a wicked grin. “You need to look the part.”

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