Page 136 of Embrace Me Darkly

By the gods, Sara. What had he done?

She was curled up in his arms, the beat of her heart almost indiscernible even to his ears. Her eyes glassy, her skin deathly pale. He’d almost taken her too far, but there was no time for self-recrimination. He bit down hard on his wrist, then pressed the wound to her mouth.

“Drink,” he ordered. “Drink, Sara.”

Despite his worst fears and premonitions, her lips closed over his flesh and she drank, her thirst strong and deep as life flooded back into her. As his blood warmed and changed her.

He held her tight as she suckled and said a silent thank-you to the gods and to the sweet voice of the child he’d once failed.

This time, he’d beaten the darkness—and Sara still lived.

* * *

She woke to pain and light dappled across a velvet darkness. Her body, sore and weak, was covered with beads of blood rising off long, slim cuts.

Concrete walls surrounded her. Above her, a ceiling with drilled holes.

And in the distance, she heard the low, harsh growl of a monster.

A sharp blade of fear cut through her as she realized that she remembered nothing. And the fear grew steadily stronger as slowly, ever so slowly, memory returned.

Stemmons.

Tasha.

Blood.

And Luke. Always Luke.

She shivered, remembering suddenly the way he’d thrust his fangs into her neck. The way her body had arched in response, the pull of blood strangely enticing, all the more so when she took from him, drinking and drinking until she’d collapsed beside him. Until she writhed in the agony of death, then stretched with the strength of rebirth.

She’d wanted this. Despite the fear, despite the unknown, she’d wanted it because it meant that she would be with Luke. That they would be together, forever.

Now, though, the fear was rising. She was trapped. Alone with a beast. Her beast. TheAzag Mahru. The serpent. The darkness.

Dear God, what had she done?

Time to feed, Sara. Time to come out and play, play, play.

All around her, the room seemed to whisper. A soft female voice urging her to feed, to kill. Her whisper. Her voice. And as it spoke, the hunger rose within her.

She explored her mouth with her tongue, felt the tips of her fangs—and reveled in the burst of power that seemed to explode within her.

It’s what you are now. It’s who you are.

Nosferatu!

Vampyre!

Monster!

Kill! Feed! Live!

Each word struck as a blow, knocking her back, pummeling her flesh. “No!” She screamed the word, slammed her hands over her ears to shut out the voices and thrust her head between her knees to ward off the blows. But they were in her head—the words, the blows—and nothing she did would stop them.

That’s the way. Hide, Sara. Hide and let me take over. Let me live. Release, release, release me and you will be free.

She tried to stand, dizzy from the voices battering her, her mind still fuzzy.

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