Page 27 of Bite of Passage
The guy stared up.“Can’t breathe.”
“I don’t care.This ends one way.Based on how you treated Gemma, it’s going to hurt.Convince me you deserve mercy.”
“I’ve never seen a show with you in it.”He gasped for breath a few times.
The guy heaved to move air.He had a faster way to get the information he needed.
As he fixated on the vein pulsating in the human’s throat, his thirst rose.His fangs elongated.
The human wheezed harder and crab walked backward.
He struck the flesh of the human’s neck and held him in place while he thrashed.To make it easier for himself, he used his mind to calm the human enough to still his prey.He swallowed quickly to prevent gagging on the putrid blood.
A flash of memories from the human’s mind passed to Skarde.They didn’t tell him much about Gemma, but the images did give him glimpses of her world.
He drank until the captive’s heart slowed.At that point, he pulled back to listen until it stopped.Simply drinking could turn this human into a mindless changeling such as those used by VanFliet.To complete the turn into an immortal vampire, Skarde would have to force the human to drink his blood.To ensure this dead body didn’t turn into a fledgling, he removed the head.
He sagged against the stones of the stairwell near his bedroom to watch rain streak against the windowpanes.The rhythmic pitter-pat calmed him.A few hours of darkness remained until the sun rose on the horizon, which meant he needed to send Gemma home.Day sleep made him vulnerable.He didn’t risk sleeping near anyone, not even Serish.He couldn’t remain in the presence of a human he barely knew when weakened by the haze of day sleep.Since Cade’s visit, his distrust of Gemma had risen.
Ready for a fight, he threw open his door.
Nothing greeted him other than the light from a candle on the nightstand.No startled woman.
He detected the slow, regular beat of her heart from the center of his bed.
Gemma lay asleep tangled in his sheets, hugging one pillow to her.The thin pants rode up to her knees from what must’ve been a rough falling asleep scenario.Her delicate collarbones peeked out of the v-top of her shirt, which dipped above her breasts, not showing nearly enough.She’d put her shirt back on and put his on the chair across the room.
All the fight in him deflated.
With a sigh, he removed his leathers and sank into the nearby chair.He dropped his head.The smell of her blood excited the beast inside him as if it knew the red liquid pounding through her veins would quench his never-ending hunger.It was a temptation that would lead to madness.His recent blood meal may have settled his stomach, but it didn’t sate his hunger.
He mustn’t forget she might be a talented, lying witch.No attractive woman ever came to him without an agenda.They either wanted information on him to sell to his enemies, or they wished to use their body to persuade him to undertake a mission he didn’t want.Perhaps, she knew of the prophecy and wanted to be the one he turned.Thathe would refuse her no matter what she used to try to sway him.
He sat on the bed without touching her.Through the human that had tried to kill her, he learned she was a nurse, a person who cared for others.The things he’d glimpsed of her world to make life easier were foreign.Here, people died of things it seemed her world had figured out how to cure.However, there was little to no magic in her world, a concept beyond his understanding
He didn’t want to wake her up, even though he should.The sooner she left, the better.Instead, he lay next to her, not touching but waiting, wide awake.He’d get her out of here the moment she woke up, which should be when the sun rose in a half hour.
As if intuitively sensing him, she rolled and landed on top of him, her head on his shoulder and arm thrown across his chest.Her dark hair tickled the bare skin of his chest.His only experience with this position was post-sex.Usually, he itched to get free and leave, unable to tolerate the closeness for more than a minute or two.Yet, he remained.His brain became so fuzzy he couldn’t concentrate on anything other than the smell of her blood, which caused him to break out in a sweat.His hands shook with the need to throw her beneath him and bury his mouth in her neck.
Her hand fisted around a clump of his hair, not pulling, but nonetheless an effective way to keep him immobile.He focused on taking deep breaths, less concerned about dislodging her and more worried about how much he wanted a taste.
Safeguarding someone fragile like her from the cruelties of the world, from the deadly and obscene, wasn’t a part of his training.It was a weakness his father had tried to thrash out of him, and something his brother sneered at.It was the antithesis of being vampire, a lifestyle which embodied immersing oneself in venal pleasure and greed.
Her hair smelled of something floral.It was a freshness not of this world.
He wrapped an arm around her body to lock her in place and whispered, “I’ll stand between you and the Directorate.I don’t like it, but fate wants me in the middle of your personal crisis.”
He was no one’s hero, and she needed one.
Lying down next to her had been the stupidest idea he’d ever had.Her on top of him, smelling like a goddess, had so many synapses firing off in his brain that it sent all rational thought straight to his dick, which was terrible at making decisions.
ChapterEleven
“Skarde?”
“Hmm?”He snuggled closer to his pillow, too groggy to figure out if it was a real voice or a dream.
“Skarde.”Her voice was louder, right in his ear.
