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She turned away, and though it took more energy than she had left, started walking toward the bedroom. She needed to get out of here.
Who was she kidding? She didn’t know this man. All she knew was that something had been irrevocably stolen from her, and the last thing she wanted was to be around a reminder of all she’d lost.
Her humanity, for one. Her normalcy. Now she was a weak, red-eyed freak. And worst of all? She’d wanted the darkness, the wildness, she’d sensed inside both of them, but especially Kellan. She’d sought out her own death sentence. But the irony of it was that she was still alive.
In a manner of speaking, anyway.
“Sydney.”
“Don’t,” she said as he grasped a fistful of her shirt. “Let me be. Let me go.” She quickened her pace, but she might as well have been walking through mud. Her legs shook so hard they had no more coordination than a marionette’s limbs, and her heart beat so fast she could’ve sworn she heard the blood whooshing through her veins.
Vampire’s blood. Because that’s what she was now. A nightwalker. The undead.
“I didn’t turn you. What you’re experiencing is your body’s own natural reaction to our blood. This was in you all along.”
His voice echoed in her head as if it were coming from a long distance away. He sounded so calm. So reassuring.
And he was a liar.
“Stop it,” she whispered, swaying. She couldn’t keep her balance.
“If you truly are latent, this is what you were meant to be, Sydney. You’re a descendant of the prototype with altered blood chemistry. This was your destiny.”
She flailed as his arms locked around her waist, though she knew if he hadn’t held her she would’ve sunk to the floor. His mouth brushed her earlobe, traveling lower to where that furious pulse threatened to burst through her neck.
“You need blood, my love. That’s why you’re so weak.”
Even the word made her trembles increase, but she didn’t care. Perspiration dotted her brow, trickling down her cheekbones and over her lips until she tasted her own sweat. Needy fists pounded her stomach, but she refused to give in.
“No. I don’t want it.”
“You’re in pain. Your body requires more to make the change, and it’s been days.”
“I don’t want it!” she roared, unsurprised when he swung her up into his arms and carried her into the bedroom where the woman and Luke waited. Watching.
Without a word, he dumped her on the bed, then began methodically tying her wrists to the bedposts with strips of cloth he’d left on the nightstand. She couldn’t do more than seethe, because her head now swam to match her wobbly legs. As if that humiliation wasn’t enough, he sliced open his wrist before shoving his bloody arm at her mouth.
“Drink,” he commanded, cupping the back of her head.
She tried to ignore the delicious smell. Forget steak. Here was what she really craved. But maybe if she withstood the hunger, her eyes would return to their normal green. Maybe she’d go back to normal.
If only she could resist.
“Do you want to die? You will, without blood. This is your nourishment now, and you’re starving to death.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. I won’t. I won’t. I won’t.
He gripped her cheek in tense fingers. “Goddammit, drink from me!”
His abrupt touch triggered her eyes to flash open. One look at the thick, red blood oozing out of the slash he’d made caused her body to jerk. She couldn’t stop herself. Her tongue flicked out and licked along the bloody seam of his wound. Before her mind had a chance to acknowledge her intentions, her teeth latched around his arm. Her mouth worked frantically, trying to suck more of that heavenly coppery substance down her throat.
“Untie my hands,” she growled.
“You promise not to stop?”
She nodded and continued to draw on his flesh. His warm, luscious flesh and even warmer, more succulent blood.
He complied with her request. She gripped his forearm with both hands and sank her incisors into his skin again, pulling harder now. God, he tasted wonderful. More wonderful than anything she’d ever conceived.
