Page 66 of The Vampire's Mercy
Hunting. The human pleading for mercy.
Shafts of moonlight spilled through the dense canopy of leaves and branches above my head. High, so high, in the forest of pine.
“Please… Please help me…”
The bloodthirst thrummed, as wild as the lust of the hunt.
Blood…
Sweet blood.
Prey…
“He’s dangerously close to the cliffs,” a voice said. A fractured, undistinguishable voice.
“Who—”
The rain falls in the darkness.
The icy rain.
“Forest?” I said, the trees beginning to fade away.
“Please!’” the man wailed up ahead.
White rose petals fell around me, glowing in the rain.
But there was no rain falling in the trees.
The rain falls in the darkness.
The icy rain where there is…
Where there is…
Where it stands…
Where it…
Where it ends.
Where it begins.
I awoke from the dream, down in the cool dark of my sleeping pit. The distant, violent whisper of daylight still at full force.
Why did I always wake up so early?
Rolling onto my side, I closed my eyes again, waiting for the confusing dream to return. What did it want to show me? Was this something to do with Paris Raine and his song?
Dissonant voices reached my ears.
“What is he doing?”
“He’s lost the plot.”
“He’s too soft.”
“Why are those traitors in cells? He should kill them.”
