Page 8 of Blood Lust

Blowing into her lungs, I give her the air I don’t need and draw in only for her. I alternate between the two, pumping her heart and giving her rescue breaths. I place my lips on her for the third breath when I hear the first beat.

Pulling back, I watch as the woman who has claimed my soul sputters water. I assess her injuries as best as I can.

Her arm is broken, she is concussed, and I can smell the internal bleeding. Her face is battered and bruised, her nose broken. Likely the airbag. She’s lucky it didn’t break her neck. I push her hair away from her face. Even running at full speed, she won’t survive long enough for a doctor to help her. My blood could heal her.

Stuttering, her heart grows weaker. There isn’t enough fucking time. I run my hand through my hair, desperation growing as my mate’s life fades before my eyes. It took me over seven centuries to find her, and I will lose her in less than a day.

I can turn her…

I have to turn her.

My very existence is tied to her life.

I never had another option, no other decision to make.

I am already hers.

Time isn’t on my side, and if I am going to do this, it has to be now. It pains me to force it on her like this. We usually meet our mates out in the world, and they choose to join us for eternity. She has no such choice because I have to decide for her.

She stirs with a soft groan of pain. Her eyes open, and she struggles to focus before finding me.

“I’ve got you,” I say in a hushed tone. “I’m going to make sure you’re okay.” I pull her into my arms, cradling her. “You’re safe with me.”

The voice that answers is weak and strained. “You...” Her eyes flutter and then go still again.

I nuzzle my face against the side of her neck. Christ, she smells divine. Slowly my teeth sink into Wren’s flesh.

Fuck, she tastes like heaven.

I drink deeply, pulling her essence into me, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of her soul dancing through me. It is unlike any experience I’ve ever had when drinking from a human. Her heart slows, but it happens quickly, much too quickly. Wren is definitely on the brink of death.

Taking great care, I bite into my wrist and hold it to her mouth.

“Drink,” I say. Firm. Commanding.

She moans, her lips brushing against my skin, sending electricity through my body.

“Drink,” I demand, louder and unyielding, pressing my wrist against those soft lips. They part slightly, and I angle myself to ensure my blood would go into her mouth. Her heart is slower now, but she has to drink more if she is going to change successfully.

Growling in frustration, I pull my wrist away and tear deeper into my flesh with my fangs. Hitting an artery, I make sure I am bleeding quickly. I tilt her head back and let it pour down her perfect throat. Wren’s brows knit together as she coughs, sputters, and tries to kick away. A pang of guilt strikes my heart.

She is fighting because she doesn’t want this. Shoving it aside, there is no going back now. Either she will wake up and accept what happened, accept me, or she will hate me forever. As long as she still walks this Earth, I will take her however she is. Weak and injured from the trauma, it is nothing to overpower her, and I press my wrist down on her mouth, willing her to hurry.

“Drink,” my voice pleading now.

Finally, the switch happens.

She clutches my arm with her good hand and suckles in earnest. Hunger fills her as she takes my essence into her belly. She moans as she drinks like it is the sweetest nectar.

God help me.

The way she devours me, her soft lips pulling my very soul into her body and loving it, and a wave of relief pours into me. I know she will be okay now. “Good girl, Wren.” I let her take all she can, welcome her to have every drop as far as I am concerned.

Every successful turning has one thing in common. You know it will work when the human finally latches on like they want it. I press my body against hers, content to stay there until Wren takes all she needs of me until she fills every empty crevice of her body with me. Changing a vampire leaves us vulnerable, and weakened. With her injuries, she will drain me far more than the vampires I’ve turned before. I lean my forehead against her temple and whisper, “Stay with me.”

Wren.

My little bird.

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