Page 28 of Bonded Through Bite

Where the hell is he?

The bastard turned me into a vampire when I explicitly told him not to, and now he’s nowhere to be found.

I will my arms to hold my weight and push up. I make it to my knees and lean against the bed. I don’t think I can make it all the way up there.

Rage sparks deep in my gut. I refuse to lie on the fucking floor and wait for him. My throat hurts; it’s so dry. My skin itches.

I want some ice water, a triple cheese pizza, and the longest shower known to mankind. No blood. No fucking. If he tries to touch me, I’ll bite him!

His blood tasted so fucking good.

Okay, that’s enough of that. With a heave, I get to my feet and stumble over to the door. I thought vampires were supposed to be graceful, but clearly, I was misled.

Fucking false advertising.

I try the door handle, but it breaks in my hand.

Huh.

The strength might have not been false advertising. So how am I going to get out of here now? Just punch through the door? I try pushing gently, but nothing moves. My muscles tremble when I add a bit of power and still nothing happens.

Well, at least I gave it a try.

Taking a step back, I turn my hip and kick, putting my whole bodyweight behind it. The door cracks and part of it crashes down. In a dizzying tumble, I fall through as my strength gives out all at once.

At least there’s a carpet beneath me this time. I’m starting to get tired of naked floor time.

It’s still dark but not as dark as it was in the room. The hallway looks long, at least from this angle, and there’s a staircase at the other end.

I smell blood.

Gods, I’m so hungry.

Frantically, I look around for the source of that enticing smell and notice the blood on my leg. I must’ve injured it while kicking through the door, but the skin is already healed. Just the blood remains.

It’s like I’m watching myself from the outside as my hand reaches over and gathers a smear of blood on the finger.

No. Stop! A part of me is screaming, but I can’t override the instinct that demands blood. I lift my trembling hand up to my lips and lick my fingers.

So that’s what I taste like. Kind of like wildflower honey mixed with rich red wine.

My stomach roils and then I’m throwing up. I heave and heave until there’s nothing left. Not that there was much in the first place, but it seems that my body is determined to expel even the tiniest hints of the blood I ingested.

Note to self: don’t drink blood.

My vampiric life is off to a fantastic start.

Once I’m settled, I wipe my hand on the carpet to make sure I don’t lick the blood again. Now I desperately need that shower. And a toothbrush. I need a plan to get out of this mess.

First step: Find Rafael and tear his head off.

That decided, I begin to crawl toward the staircase. Clothes would be nice, or even a sheet, but I’m not sure I can convince myself to move again if I go back to that room and anywhere close to that bed.

The farther I get, the more my body seems to wake up and remember what it’s supposed to be doing. Halfway down the hallway, I manage to get to my feet, hunger driving my every step.

Can I drink animal blood?

I never asked about that. At least I know I don’t have to kill humans. I just need to have enough control to stop. My fangs ache at the thought of human blood and I get the sneaking suspicion that control might be hard to come by in my current state.