“It seems I got here just as things were getting interesting,” a new voice said from the doorway.
Amalthea. My heart ached at the sight of my friend. I’d last seen her in the grips of the bloodlust. My memories of that time were increasingly hazy. She’d said I was still her friend, but would she reject me now?
The oracle entered the room as though it was her own, her long, flowing sleeves trailing behind her. I’d never seen the oracle in the same dress twice. This one was a brilliant blue, the fabric shimmering in the torchlight matching a set of silver rings covering her fingers.
“Leave, Thea,” Demos snapped. “You should know better than to flaunt yourself around a fledgling.”
Thea made no move toward the door. “I’m perfectly safe.”
The general looked ready to toss Thea out of the room himself. I watched the exchange. Was it so dangerous for me to be around someone who wasn’t a vampire? Was I that much of a threat, a monster?
Of course you are.
“Don’t be foolish,” Demos said.
“I never am.” Thea, as the only mortal in the room, wasn’t faster than a vampire. But she caught us all unaware when she used a jagged edge of one of her rings to slice her palm.
I scented the blood before I saw it bead on her hand. Gods, it smelled wonderful. I hadn’t felt hungry in the slightest, but now the thirst was back.
“What in the name of blood are you thinking?” Demos tore off part of his uniform, and in a split second captured Thea’s hand to bandage it.
My fangs ached. I wanted to lunge at my prey.
It tastes disgusting. You don’t want her blood.
It didn’t smell disgusting the way the other blood had. No, it smelled like power and warmth and everything I’d ever craved. Not as good as Raphael’s, but tantalizing. Her blood stained the dark fabric of Demos’s uniform.
You could rip it away,the beast inside me coaxed, so much more seductive than the voice that called me a monster.You could sink your fangs in her and drink and drink and drink.
My feet stayed rooted in the ground while the scent continued to taunt me.
Thea snatched her wrapped hand away from Demos. “Look, you lunk.” She pointed her uninjured hand at me.
Raphael was in front of me now. I hadn’t noticed him moving, too transfixed by the scent of fresh blood.
“Samara,” Raphael said quietly. “You don’t truly wish to drink from her in this state.”
I forced my neck to twist away from the oracle and to my sire. His expression was tense.
“Let the thirst go,” he urged. “Ground yourself. Focus on what you feel, where you are.”
It was like telling a starving person not to be hungry. But I concentrated on the room. I felt the plush carpet on my bare feet, sought Raphael’s cedar scent out on the air instead of the copper tang of witch blood.
I blinked once, twice. The thirst had dissipated. It was still present, a slight scratch in my throat, but I could think again. My fangs no longer felt like they were going to fall out.
It was only a matter of seconds, but the entire room stood still until I regained control of myself. Demos had Thea pressed at his back, and there was nothing warm in his gaze.
I’d nearly killed her. I had no control. If I bit her . . . if I used these wretched fangs the way I ached to . . .
Gods stake me in the ninth hell, I was a monster. I’d been about to hurt my only friend.
“Impressive,” the general conceded, before turning around to Thea. “And unaccountablystupid. What were you thinking drawingwitch bloodaround afledgling? Do you try to put fires out with vats of boiling oil? After the weeks she spent prolonging the transition, she could have drained you dry without sparing a single thought for your life until you were nothing but a withered husk.”
I’d never heard the general so uncontrolled, so angry. His brow was creased with fury even as he snapped his hand forward, capturing Thea’s hand and pulling it to his mouth. He ran his tongue over it, fangs gleaming, as he sealed the wound.
Shame slammed into me at the mental image of Thea drained dry. I wanted to argue otherwise. Wanted to shoutI would never. But I didn’t attempt to voice the words. What if that was another lie that would be unable to pass my lips?
“She wouldn’t,” Thea retorted. “Sam’s my friend, and she’s got a stronger will than your twenty best soldiers combined.”
