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fascination with the blood that ran just under the skin. Richard's desire for fresh, bloody meat. I had
pretended I didn't carry their hungers inside me, not really. But I did. The ardeur had risen to give me a
way to feed, a way that didn't tear people's throats out, a way that didn't fill my mouth with fresh blood.
Nathaniel kissed me. He kissed me, and I let him, because if I drew back from it, fought it; there were
other ways to feed, other ways that would leave him bleeding and dying on the floor. His lips were like
heat against my skin, but part of me wanted something hotter. Part of me knew that blood would be like
a scalding wave in my mouth.
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I had a sudden image so strong that it made me stumble back from him. Made me push away from that
warm, firm flesh.
I felt my teeth sinking into flesh, through hair that was rough and choking on my tongue. But I could feel
the pulse underneath that skin, feel it like a frantic thing, the pulse running from me, like the deer had run
through the forest. The deer was caught, but that sweet, beating thing lay just out of reach. I bit harder,
shearing through the skin with teeth that were made for tearing. Blood gushed into my mouth, hot,
scalding, because the deer's blood ran hotter than mine. Their warmth helped lead me to them. Helped
me hunt them. The heat of their blood called me to them, made their scent run rich on every leaf they
passed, every blade of grass that brushed them, carried that warmth away, betrayed them to me. My
teeth closed around the throat, tore the front of it free. Blood sprayed out, over me and the leaves, a
sound like rain. I swallowed the blood first, scalding from the chase, and then the meat that still held the
last flickering of pulse, a last beat of life. The meat moved in my mouth as it went down, as if it were
struggling, even now, to live.
I came back to the kitchen, on my knees, screaming.
Nathaniel reached out towards me, and I slapped at his hands, because I didn't trust myself to touch
him. I could still taste the meat, the blood, feel it going down Richard's throat. It wasn't horror that made
me slap at Nathaniel. It was that I had liked it. Gloried in the feel of blood raining down on me. The
struggles of the animal had excited me, made the kill all the sweeter. Always when I touched Richard,
there had been hesitation, regret, revulsion about what he was, but there had been no hesitation in that
shared vision. He had been the wolf, and he had brought the deer down, taken its life, and there had
been no regret. His beast had fed, and for this one moment, the man in him had not cared.
I shut down every shield I had between him and me, and it was only then that I felt him look up, felt him
raise his bloody muzzle, and look as if he could see me watching him. He licked his bloody lips, and the
only thought I had from him was good. It was good, and there was more, and he would feed.
I couldn't seem to cut myself off from him. Couldn't shut it down. I did not want to feel him sink teeth
into the deer again. I did not want to be in his head for the next bite. I reached out to Jean-Claude.
Reached out for help, and found& blood.
His mouth was locked on a throat, fangs buried into that flesh. I smelled that flesh, knew that scent,
knew it was Jason, hispomme de sang , that he held clasped in his arms, clasped tighter than you hold a
lover, because a lover does not struggle, a lover does not feel their death in your kiss.
The blood was so sweet, sweeter than the deer's had been. Sweeter, cleaner, better. And part of that
better was the feel of his arms locked around us, holding us as tight as we held him. Part of what made
this more was the embrace. The feel of Jason's heart beating inside his chest, beating against the front of
our bodies, so that we could feel the franticness of it, as the heart began to realize something was wrong,
and the more frightened it got, the more blood it pumped, the more of that sweet warmth poured down
our throats.
All I could taste was blood. All I could smell was blood. It spilled down my throat, and I couldn't
breathe. I was drowning. Drowning in Jason's blood. The world had run red, and I was lost. A pulse, a
pulse in that red darkness. A pulse, a heartbeat, that found me, that brought me out.
Two things came to me at once. I was lying on cool tile, and someone had me by the wrist. Their hand
on my wrist. I opened my eyes, and found Nathaniel kneeling beside me. His hand on my wrist. The [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]