Page 96 of Dark Shadow of Guilt

“Even with.”

“Even with ugly wings?”

“Yes. But your wings aren’t ugly. They’re fascinating.”

“As in weird.”

“As in, you’re the most unique female in OneWorld, and I care deeply for you.”

Was that Dom-speak for “I love you?” She hoped so because she was falling hard for the black-winged assassin.

****

The week passed ina flurry of gym workouts, wing exercises, air-time, weapons training, and sex without Maddy biting Dom, thanks to many silent recitations of the Dewey Decimal System Classification.

Her wings didn’t drag on the floor, wobble wildly, or do the unexpected.

Whoopie. Success.

As Dom sat on a bench doing his usual arm curl routine, Maddy did what she always did. She stared. His biceps expanded. Contracted. Eventually, her gaze did what it always did. It slid to his neck, where his pulse throbbed with a rhythmic beat. A Tootsie Roll Pop to a little kid.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Madeline licked her lips, her tiny fangs tingling.

Stop it! Stop it!

But her self-talk had no effect. When she opened her eyes again, she zeroed in on Dom’s pulsing throat, gnawing hunger an ache in her belly.

Madeline sprinted from the gym, calling over her shoulder, “I’m off to the study.”

She raced along the tiled floor which led to her favorite room. Throwing open the door, she scanned Dom’s volumes of books, all in their proper place thanks to her OCD. She breathed in the scent of the ancient leather-bound tomes, a soothing odor.

When she’d originally wandered into Dom’s library, the books had been shelved haphazardly. She had no idea what organizational method he used, if any. Knocking the place into shape had become her priority. She used the activity to forget her changing life and Dom’s blood supply.

Now, with her fists propped on her hips, she strolled from bookcase to bookcase, admiring the extensive and organized collection, sometimes fingering the spines of beautifully bound books. She stopped.

I am not a victim. I will change what I can and accept the rest.

She would never, however, accept that she was evil. She whispered to herself, “I am taking back my life. Not my old one, but a new one. Whatever it is, it’s mine. I say who I am, what I am, and what I’ll do. I may be a Scourge, but I’m not the villain of my story. So what if I crave a little blood now and again.”

Stop the pity party. Start researching.

Madeline grabbed a few books from the shelf. Pulling out a straight-backed chair, she sat at the table, surrounded by tomes, all on the same topic—Scourges.

Growing up, she’d learned it was harmful to hide from problems, to stick her head in the sand. So she accepted she was a Leech even though Dom had explained her wings were unique and her tiny fangs were oddities.

When there was a scratch at the door, Madeline opened it.

Freki prowled inside. “Hey.”

“Hey back.”

“Don’t mind me. Just looking for a spot to close my eyes. Had a late-night party with a shapely female wolver. She wrung me out.” He crawled under the table, plopping onto his belly.

“Why do you suppose I can read these books? Aren’t they written in a different language?”

Freki lifted his head. “How the hell would I know? I’m a wolver. Books aren’t my thing. Think of me as a lover rather than a reader.”

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