I mourned the sunrise as it warmed my face and painted the leaves on the trees. The beauty of the vibrant gold sky, and the deep green of the grass, was bittersweet.
I lost track of time, as I stared ahead to the place where he had stood. But eventually, I walked home. The day went by, a dull blur of monotony. Classes didn’t engage me, though I went through the motions. I felt like a shell.
It wasn’t until the sun began its descent that I felt alive again. Like a child on Christmas morning, I ran from my room, straight for the gift that meant everything. The world passed by as my feet pounded the pavement. The cold, autumn air bit my face and numbed my fingers, my cheeks, my nose. But it was excitement that ruled me. I held my eyes open wide, unblinking, as I searched for him. Then I was there once again, in our secret clearing beyond the city’s reach.
Giddy and nervous, I walked to the center of the tall trees, amongst the overgrown grass that tickled my fingers as it brushed my bare palms. Above treetops and between the distant skyscrapers, the evening sky glowed orangey-pink, like a swirl of rainbow sherbet. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves and blew the tall grass in its wake. I watched as the colors began to fade, consumed by the midnight-blue that promised Bennet would soon arrive. A small part of me said he never would, that it was all a dream, and I waited for nothing. That little voice told me that the thrall were still out there, and if he was late, then they’d gotten to him. Or that his mission had changed, and I was no longer relevant.
“Hello, Hannah.” His voice was deep and penetrating. I turned and met his coffee-hued gaze.
“You came,” I said, relieved.
“I wouldn’t miss this,” Bennet said, stepping closer to me. My breath caught as he grew near. My butterflies turned into birds, wide wings flapping fiercely in my core.
He reached for me; and I closed my eyes in anticipation of his touch. His fingers brushed my cheek, and I looked at his hard, masculine face. Bennet tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, leaving a trail of electricity where he’d made contact. Every inch of me felt alive, from my chin to my toes. I wanted to feel his touch all over my skin. And I realized, I didn’t just want to hear his story, to get to know him, and to be near him. I wanted to show him who I was too. If this thing between us had a chance at being real, I needed him to know me.
I took a step back, and then another. Bennet watched, without question. I slid the shoes from my feet, the pants from my legs, the jacket and shirt from my torso. Still, Bennet watched, unmoving. But he didn’t have to say anything, or do anything to show me that he liked what he saw. His eyes devoured me, took me in from head to toe, slowly savoring every inch of my bare skin. The brown of his irises was enveloped in flames, replaced by the crimson that showed his emotion.
I was nervous. I’d never shifted outside of my hometown, except once. That time, too, had been in front of Bennet. But this was different. And I needed to show him all of who I was. “Tonight it’s my turn to bare myself,” I said. “I want you to watch.”
“Hannah,” Bennet said, “I’d like that.” His voice was controlled, though his eyes betrayed his calm.
I slid down my panties, and unclasped my bra. My cheeks heated, as the cold air bit my bare skin, yet Bennet’s gaze was beyond warm. This was it. He knew what I was, but part of me still worried. Could he really accept the shifter side of me?
I looked up to the moon, and let go.
The cracking of my bones filled my ears, as sharp pain stabbed me from within. My face stretched, and I fell to all fours. Fur grew from every pore, creating explosive pressure across my skin.
It was intense, painful, exhilarating, and over within a matter of moments. Then every sensation was more. The moon was brighter, the foliage more fragrant. It had been so long. And I was finally free. I hadn’t truly realized how much I had needed this until I shifted.
When the transition was complete, I looked up at Bennet. He appeared calm, intrigued; yet I had no way to know for sure. If only I could read his mind. Maybe vampires could understand the shifter tongue? “What do you think?” I asked.
He said nothing, but kneeled down before me and held out his hand. I nuzzled his palm and circled around him. There was a gentle scent to his skin and clothes, clean and honest. No colognes, no odor—impossibly inhuman. And I found it comforting.
“Your fur is like silk,” Bennet said. I would have smiled, had a wolf’s grin not seemed more a snarl. Without the ability to respond with words, I was left with action to communicate. A challenge I gladly accepted.
Time to learn exactly what Bennet was made of. Paws pounding the cold, packed dirt, I darted across the field. Tall strands of grass whipped in my wake. With a stiffening of my legs, I slid to a stop. Bennet was by my side.
Again I took off, looping around the outer edge of the clearing. The burn in my muscles told me it had been far too long since I had run like this. The cold, night air filled my lungs, as my heart beat with exhilaration. Again when I stopped, Bennet was there. The ebony fabric of his long, black coat flapped in the wind just like the leaves on the trees. His eyes were the shade of a crimson rose. His lips upturned in a playful grin, revealing the sharp, white tips of his fangs.
I circled around, intent on proving that I could outmaneuver him, if only once. The black of Bennet’s coat remained within my periphery—exactly where I wanted him. I turned hard to the right, looping back and focused on not falling while I shifted back to human form.
Mid-step my paws returned to hands and feet, my fur receded, and my body elongated. I dove at the black blur, and grabbed hold. We crashed hard onto the ground, Bennet beneath me. I felt a little bad for the landing, but he didn’t look injured as I pinned him down. My legs straddled his waist, with my bare shins pressing hard into the cold dirt, and the soft leather of his jacket on my inner thighs. Every tiny hair stood on end as the cold air washed over my naked, human skin.
“Caught you,” I said with a satisfied grin. Meeting Bennet’s fiery gaze, I felt his excitement, a mirror of my own.
Faster than I could follow, he sat upright. His arms encased me, holding me tight to his thin, grey shirt. His chest was hard against my bare breasts, and unmoving. There was no rise and fall, no breath. There was no pulse for me to hear, but the stiff ridge in his jeans, pressing up between my bare thighs, told me he was far from dead. And reminded me of exactly how naked I was.
Heat rose into my cheeks, but the last thing I wanted was to break our contact. The leather of his coat sleeves was cold against my skin, and his palms were warm by comparison. “I caught you,” Bennet whispered, then spread my lips with his tongue. He devoured me with a desperation that fueled my arousal. I kissed him back, tasting him, exploring the length and tips of his fangs. Oh so sharp.
Desire flooded through me, hot and ravenous. I needed him, needed to be closer, needed more. Bennet's hands roamed, through my hair, down my back, onto my ass. He pulled my hips over his ridge, teasing, tempting, offering me what I wished for.
My body was more than ready—wet and waiting. The only problem was the nagging voice in the back of my head, reason telling me that this wasn’t me. That I hardly knew him, and that he wasn’t my kind. The voice that said that one night of pleasure could end my life if it meant that I’d be turned. There was so much I didn’t know. And I didn’t want to listen. I wanted Bennet.
His lips trailed down my chin, tender and sexy as hell, leaving my skin on fire with every kiss. “Bennet,” I gasped, as he rolled my hips over his. Tendrils of pleasure shot up through me to my core, making me regret the words I needed to say.
“Hannah.” His voice was deep, gravelly, and sweltering hot.
“I…” I struggled to find the strength to speak. “Stop.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, he did. And I wished I could take it back. My skin mourned the loss of his touch. And I wished we could pick back up where we had left off. But I knew I couldn’t. I had to step away, keep control. If I let down my guard, I’d give everything to t
his man with crimson eyes.
Chapter Fifteen
Bennet
It took every ounce of my self-control to let her walk away. Her warmth still lingered on my skin, the sweet taste of her in my mouth. The excitement was like the all-consuming rush of battle. But Hannah was more. This draw I felt to her, the raw need to feel my cock inside of her, to sink my teeth into her neck, to make her scream my name—it was alien to me. It was life itself.
I didn’t know what to say; though what I truly wanted didn’t involve words. So I remained silent, and watched as Hannah slid her jeans up over her hips. She was perfect—sensual, strong, and gorgeous. How I’d survived before her, I couldn’t remember. For better or for worse, I was completely under her spell.
The last time I’d craved more than feeding from a living, breathing woman was before I’d been turned. And courting Mary had been flowers and chocolates, nothing like this.
“I’m really sorry,” Hannah said, keeping her back turned to me as she dressed.
“Don’t be.”
“Bennet,” Hannah said, and turned to me. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I feel this pull to you, but it’s not who I am.”
Her bright blue eyes showed a sadness I wished I could cure. But I knew that I was the cause. I needed more control, the impassiveness I’d felt before I’d met her.
Watch her—that was all that was required. So why did I feel this fierce need to protect her, this unquenchable need to be near her? She intoxicated me, which made it hard to protect her from myself.
“I know what you mean,” I replied.
“Will you tell me the rest of your story?” Hannah asked. “I want to know you. I want to know everything about you. About who you are and what it means if we do this.”
“That’s fair,” I said, though the distance between us felt immeasurably vast. I could give her the space she needed, even if it hurt. And I would take whatever she gave me in return, even if it was only from afar. “I’ll tell you what happened to me after I blacked out in the mine.” The hint of a smile shone on her lips. “And, Hannah,” I said, “I want to know everything about you, too.”
August 25, 1883
Abingtonia Pennsylvania
Heavy. Everything was frozen in place, too heavy to move. Dark. So dark I couldn’t see. I tried to blink, but nothing changed. My chest couldn’t expand. I couldn’t breathe. Panic. I ordered my muscles to move, to flail, to do something. Fuck, anything. And my finger moved.
Holding on to what little hope that tiny wiggle allowed, I tried for more. Everything came rushing back, the memory of what had happened in the mine, the collapse. As feeling returned to my body, I clawed at the dirt that entombed me, digging in desperation for air. I had to be underground. If this wasn’t hell, and I’d somehow survived, it wouldn’t be for long encased in the earth.
With control of my hands regained came pain, everywhere pain. Pain meant life, or so I hoped, as I clawed through the endless sea of dirt.
Air. I found air. Pulling, struggling, fighting, I broke through to the surface. Relief flooded over me, as I’d actually managed to survive. I blinked the dirt from my eyes, and looked up at the sky, dark and clouded.
It was nighttime. And this was not the mine.
“Took you long enough.” That voice, I recognized that voice. It was the same as before, the demon with-
With blunt force, the sole of his shoe bashed the side of my head. My vision blurred. And as his heel came down for a second assault, I grabbed hold of his calf with both hands and pulled. As he stumbled, I used the opportunity to rise to my feet.
The surroundings were not what I had expected. We weren’t anywhere near the mine. Rows of tombstones decorated the peaceful field. We were in a graveyard.
“He’s a natural.” This voice was softer, unfamiliar. I turned and found a second man, leaning on the thick trunk of a towering evergreen. He was tall, and lean, with short, grey hair. He wore simple, spotless clothes: a white shirt and black pants. Wrinkles lined his forehead and surrounded both his mouth and his gentle, green eyes. With a face aged like a man of eighty, his fit frame appeared much younger. Strange, he seemed so unlike the other.
“Why am I here?” I asked. My voice was grating, dry, and alien in my ears. “What happened?“
A blur of black, and the monster from the tunnel stood beside the tall man. As tense as the other was at ease, as fearsome as the other calm, the demon looked at me as if I were nothing. I considered punching the man who’d killed my friends, that or running like hell, but I was frozen under the stare of the green-eyed man. Something about him told me that he controlled the beast, that he was the one with all of the power.
“We happened upon you,” the man said, “and now you’ve been chosen.”
“Chosen for what?” I asked, balling my fists. The pit of my stomach sank in anticipation of his answer, knowing it couldn’t be good.
“To live for eternity,” the demon said. He moved faster than any creature had a right to, so close that I could smell the blood of my friends on his breath, on his clothes. “To feast on the sheep, and bathe in the blood of the innocent.”
I wouldn’t do that. It couldn’t be true. I backed away from the monster, caught my leg in the uneven earth, and fell on my ass.
“You’ll have to excuse Walter,” the tall man said, taking slow, careful steps toward me and the fang-faced beast that stood over me laughing. It was a horrible sound, a hearty cackle that shook me.
“I am your sire,” the older man said. “You may call me Tyr.”
“Sire? I don’t…” I didn’t understand. I didn’t understand how I’d survived, or what was happening.
The next thing I knew, my feet were moving. Not just moving, running. I ran for my life, away from the monster, away from the nightmare in the graveyard. If I could only make it home I’d be okay. I had to be.
The streets were quiet. The town was asleep. Fortunate, given my condition. Checking back over my shoulder, I found no one. They hadn’t chased after me. Two more blocks and I’d be home to the mother that likely grieved my death, just as she had my father's three months before. My father’s mining accident had brought her to my house, where she had stayed ever since. I couldn’t imagine how she suffered now. I had to tell her I’d somehow survived. I had to get off the street, far away from the men in the graveyard.
My stomach ached with hunger. Hunger was an understatement. The need to feed was more primal, more fierce. It was a vehement state of frenzy.
My chest burned, though it did not rise and fall. Flashes of the carnage in the mine ripped through my brain. Blood. Stumbling. Starving. The thrum of a single, human, beating heart pulsed through me, radiating from the life standing alone in the dark alley.
Without my consent, my body moved. My teeth tore into the soft flesh of his fragile neck, and I savored the warm, metallic flavor. My senses came alive as if I’d been nothing but a shadow before that moment. And I saw him. The boy in my arms, it was Harry. But I couldn’t stop. In that moment, nothing mattered more than the thirst.
It was Walter who redeemed me. As my head hit the bricks of the road, with Walter’s shoe putting pressure onto my cheek, I stared at the boy I’d wished to help. Watched his pale body laying motionless beside me. And all I could think about was taking another taste.
“That’s horrible,” Hannah said. Her expression was tender as she inched closer, though the distance between us felt endless. How she could look at me, I had no idea. I’d told her the truth. I’d told her that I was a monster.
“Did he live? The boy, Harry, was he okay?” Hannah asked.
“He lived a long life, without memory of the incident,” I said. “My sire did that for Harry—made him forget the attack, the mine collapse, the trauma of the entire day.”
“I’m glad he lived,” Hannah said. “Your sire sounds kinder than Walter.”
“He is. Though I would have killed the boy if it hadn’t been for Walter. For that, I’m grateful to
this day.”
“Where’s your sire now?” Hannah asked. “Is he the blond that attacked my friend?”
“No,” I replied. “That’s Charlie, Walter’s progeny. Tyr is lost to us.”
“Lost?”
“Beyond my help,” I said, then steered the conversation back on course. “It was difficult to stomach the existence of vampires, or that my fate was to be one of them. But there was no way to go back to my old life. So I stayed with Tyr and Walter in their home, and let those I had once known believe that I had died that day in the mine. Which in a way, I did. And I learned what it was to be like this.”
“And what does it mean to be a vampire?” Hannah asked. “You’re fast, and cool to my touch. You’ve survived for over a hundred years, but what else? Do you have to drink blood? Can you eat anything else? Do you like anything else? And I know you said it was complicated, but how exactly is vampirism transmitted?”
I smiled. After all of this, still she did not run. “It took a long time to stop missing the flavors of food, and the warm light of the sun. I must feed to live, though I do not kill. And no one is ever turned on accident. It’s a deliberate process of draining the blood until there is nothing left, and feeding the body that which flows through our veins.”
“One drop does it?” Hannah asked. Her azure eyes sparkled in the moonlight. Gorgeous. Vulnerable.
“It takes more than a drop, and requires a burying ritual for rebirth,” I replied.
“So not just feeding, and not just a small amount from the vampire,” Hannah said, then looked down at the ground. I wondered what she was thinking. Without question, it was a lot for anyone to digest. “What about sex?” she asked, meeting my eyes with unwavering conviction. Only the blush on her cheeks betrayed her discomfort.
“No,” I replied. “Sex is safe—no pregnancy, no disease, no transmission of vampirism,” I said, allowing myself to smile just a bit.
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