Page 119 of Blood Mosaic

Thump.

“No.” She hadn’t survived all this just to burn to a crisp at her first hint of daylight. “Hello!” she yelled. “Anyone?”

Her throat was starting to burn again, and she scented something rich and sweet when the breeze turned.

Following the scent around the side of the house, Tatyana saw just how massive the edifice was, stretching two broad wings back into a dense evergreen forest filled with shadows and the flapping of birds.

As she approached, the birds fell silent.

“Hello?”

Thump thump.

The smell grew stronger and her fangs fell.

No. Oh no. “Whoever you are, please stay away.”

There was a human near, and she could smell their blood, but something about it smelled… wrong. Soiled and rotten, like meat that had gone off in the heat.

Her body began to shake as she continued to walk around the mansion to the back of the left side of the house where a stone path lined with more palm trees led around carved marble steps leading to a raised terrace that spanned the back of the mansion, creating a curved crescent that embraced another lush garden.

Tatyana walked into the garden, blinking as she tried to understand the sight that met her eyes.

The body of an old man lay naked at the base of an apple tree, his blank eyes staring at the sky. His mouth was open in shock, and his body was pierced by fang marks.

Over.

And over.

And over. They were everywhere.

His man was pale, nearly blue, and his cap had fallen to the side of his head.

Tatyana felt the groan wrenching up from her belly as she realized what she was seeing. She looked at the rough work clothes she was wearing.

Smeared with the old man’s blood.

“Nooo!” She screamed and fell to the ground, rocking back and forth when she realized what she’d become. And yet even over her horror and pain, she was hungry. She was so hungry her throat was burning. Even though the old man’s blood was cold, she craved it.

She wept bloody tears, wiping them with the back of her hand as she stumbled to the front of the house and collapsed under the marble portico.

She wouldn’t look for shelter. Sheshoulddie. It was the only justice.

Her only release.

She didn’t know what had happened with the man, but she knew in her heart he was dead because of her. She should die. She was a monster, and she’d killed an innocent old man. She was a murderer.

It would be better for her to die.

She curled into a ball as her body convulsed and she threw up the blood that curdled in her stomach. It spilled from her mouth, black and rancid to her nose.

She deserved it. She deserved to die.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered to the dead man in the garden.

Mama, I’m sorry.

Elene, I’m sorry.

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