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But only for an instant.Then the rage hits.The rage I've been holding in since the beginning of this ordeal.My gums tingle, and a sharp pain lances through me as my cuspids descend.
I turn, sink my teeth into the furry leg holding me down.
And I drink.I drink the blood of my wolf.
Yes, Rogan's blood.It's even more potent when he's in animal form.I don't get much as there isn't a good artery on the canine foreleg, but just the few drops I get trickle into me and infuse me with strength, with power, all while they sate a hunger I didn't know I had.
He rips his paw from me, and I take the opportunity to spring to my feet.The blood boils into me, making me stronger and quicker, and I turn.
I turn and resume my run.
Where am I going?I don't know.I know only that I must run from Rogan, run from the yearning and emotion that paralyzes me when I'm with him.Run from the urge to take him at his word when all evidence points to him lying.I can't find out who defiled the bodies of those vampires if I'm constantly drawn to their killer.
Go back.
Go back to him.
I shove the inner voice of my need to the back of my mind, quieting it with sheer will.
If Rogan is still in wolf form, he can catch me.Hewillcatch me.In fact, I expect to be flat on the ground again any second now—so much that I look over my shoulder to make sure he's not following me.
And then I curse my acute vampire vision.
My beautiful wolf lies in a clump of fur—right in the same place where I left him.
Just go, Hannah. For God's sake, go!
Even as my mind forms the words, though, I know I can't.I will go back to him.My heart pumps rapidly, and not from my run.Fear pounds through me.What has happened to Rogan?Why is he—
A pin prick."Ow!"I slap at my neck...
And then everything goes dark.
39
For your own good.
I had to do it.
Stop it. Stop fighting me!
Words.Voices.All familiar yet none recognizable, as if I'm underwater and everything is distorted.
Blurred images hover above me, and my head...It doesn't ache so much as it's just a mass of jelly that feels like it could implode at any moment.Am I restrained?I’m not sure.
For a moment, I think I hear Rogan, but last I saw him...Yes, last I saw him he was passed out in wolf form in a hidden alley behind The London.
Again the voices.Familiar...My father?My stepfather?
Then—
A blurred image clears, and my father reveals himself.
"Hannah," he says."Thank God you're all right."
Wait...Has hell frozen over?Is my father actually showing concern for my wellbeing?
No, something else is at work here.Something sinister.
