Quinn's Undying Rose
Page 59
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Without thinking, she rose in one fluid motion and charged toward it.
“Thought you’d be hungry.” The rickety chair he sat on creaked as he bent down.
She was faster and reached for the bundle. The girl was maybe sixteen and judging by her clothing she was most likely a scullery maid.
“She’s tasty. I had a sip before.” Wallace gave her a suggestive look. “Have at it. I know you’re thirsty. I can see it in your eyes.”
Rose recoiled from him and the human who was now stirring. Her jaw suddenly ached. Her hand came up to touch her mouth, and she felt sharp teeth peaking past her lips. Fangs! She had fangs! The finality of this fact hit her. There was no denying it. She was a monster now, one that killed to survive.
“No!” she screamed.
The girl on the floor reared her head, her frightened eyes staring up at her. Rose tried to pull back, but the human’s blood smelled enticing, better than anything she’d ever smelled. Though she was filled with disgust at herself, her body didn’t obey her mind. As if pulled by invisible ropes, Rose felt herself pulled toward the girl. Closer and closer.
She fought to resist. But her body’s needs were stronger.
As she sank down and pulled the struggling girl toward her, hunger overcame her. It drove her, controlled her. Only when her fangs sank in the human’s neck and drew the precious liquid from her, did her need ebb, making way for repulsion and loathing.
Rose withdrew from the girl as soon as she had the strength to command her body again, but it was too late. She’d drained her. As tears filled her eyes, fury surged through her. Without thinking, she charged at Wallace. The chair crashed beneath him as they both landed on the floor, fighting.
She was aware of her sudden strength, the immense power that ran through her veins. Her hatred for Wallace and what he’d done to her only fueled this power, pumped it up, stoked the fire in her belly higher.
“I hate you!” she yelled.
He tried to subdue her, grabbing her arms, but she twisted from his grip, her hands searching for any weapon she could find. When her fingers encountered the texture of wood, she wrapped her palm around it. Without looking she knew what it was: one of the broken legs of the chair.
With more force than she thought her body could muster, she plunged the makeshift stake into his chest.
A sound at the door coincided with her driving the stake through Wallace’s heart. As he disintegrated into dust, the door shut, making her snap her head toward it, ready to dispatch whoever else was threatening her.
A man leaned casually against the door. She didn’t know why, but instinctively she recognized him as a vampire.
“Saved me from having to kill him. Had a bill to settle with him,” he drawled.
Still gripping her stake tightly, she jumped up.
“Who are you?”
One side of his mouth lifted. “Let’s just say, we have the same enemies.”
Rose glanced at the floor where the dust settled. In front of the fireplace, the dead girl lay like a ragdoll. Nausea suddenly overcame her, but except for dry heaving, she produced nothing.
“Ah, your first kill,” the stranger commented. “It’ll get easier.”
She shook her head. Never. She never wanted to kill again. What she needed now was someone to hold her.
“Quinn, oh God, Quinn,” she murmured. She had to find him. He would help her.
“You know his prodigy?”
Rose raised her head, looking back at the vampire without really seeing him. “I need him now.” Lifting her eyes, she begged, “Help me, Quinn, please help me.”
A moment later, strong arms prevented her from falling. They shook her back to consciousness. “You can’t go to his prodigy.”
“No, I need Quinn. I need him now.”
“You don’t understand!” The vampire’s voice became more insistent. “If he finds out you killed his sire, he will kill you.”
“No! Quinn loves me!” He had professed so only a short time ago.
“He has no choice. It’s the duty of a prodigy to kill his sire’s killer, no matter who this person is. It’s an instinct, as ingrained as the lust for blood. Once he knows what you did, he won’t be able to resist the urge. The pull will be too strong. It’s a duty bred into us.”
“But he loves me . . .” she whispered.
“It won’t matter. If you stay here and let him find you, you’re as good as dead.”
Her heart clenched. Had she been on her own, she would have let it happen, let Quinn find and kill her. But there was Charlotte. She still had to protect Charlotte.
“Thought you’d be hungry.” The rickety chair he sat on creaked as he bent down.
She was faster and reached for the bundle. The girl was maybe sixteen and judging by her clothing she was most likely a scullery maid.
“She’s tasty. I had a sip before.” Wallace gave her a suggestive look. “Have at it. I know you’re thirsty. I can see it in your eyes.”
Rose recoiled from him and the human who was now stirring. Her jaw suddenly ached. Her hand came up to touch her mouth, and she felt sharp teeth peaking past her lips. Fangs! She had fangs! The finality of this fact hit her. There was no denying it. She was a monster now, one that killed to survive.
“No!” she screamed.
The girl on the floor reared her head, her frightened eyes staring up at her. Rose tried to pull back, but the human’s blood smelled enticing, better than anything she’d ever smelled. Though she was filled with disgust at herself, her body didn’t obey her mind. As if pulled by invisible ropes, Rose felt herself pulled toward the girl. Closer and closer.
She fought to resist. But her body’s needs were stronger.
As she sank down and pulled the struggling girl toward her, hunger overcame her. It drove her, controlled her. Only when her fangs sank in the human’s neck and drew the precious liquid from her, did her need ebb, making way for repulsion and loathing.
Rose withdrew from the girl as soon as she had the strength to command her body again, but it was too late. She’d drained her. As tears filled her eyes, fury surged through her. Without thinking, she charged at Wallace. The chair crashed beneath him as they both landed on the floor, fighting.
She was aware of her sudden strength, the immense power that ran through her veins. Her hatred for Wallace and what he’d done to her only fueled this power, pumped it up, stoked the fire in her belly higher.
“I hate you!” she yelled.
He tried to subdue her, grabbing her arms, but she twisted from his grip, her hands searching for any weapon she could find. When her fingers encountered the texture of wood, she wrapped her palm around it. Without looking she knew what it was: one of the broken legs of the chair.
With more force than she thought her body could muster, she plunged the makeshift stake into his chest.
A sound at the door coincided with her driving the stake through Wallace’s heart. As he disintegrated into dust, the door shut, making her snap her head toward it, ready to dispatch whoever else was threatening her.
A man leaned casually against the door. She didn’t know why, but instinctively she recognized him as a vampire.
“Saved me from having to kill him. Had a bill to settle with him,” he drawled.
Still gripping her stake tightly, she jumped up.
“Who are you?”
One side of his mouth lifted. “Let’s just say, we have the same enemies.”
Rose glanced at the floor where the dust settled. In front of the fireplace, the dead girl lay like a ragdoll. Nausea suddenly overcame her, but except for dry heaving, she produced nothing.
“Ah, your first kill,” the stranger commented. “It’ll get easier.”
She shook her head. Never. She never wanted to kill again. What she needed now was someone to hold her.
“Quinn, oh God, Quinn,” she murmured. She had to find him. He would help her.
“You know his prodigy?”
Rose raised her head, looking back at the vampire without really seeing him. “I need him now.” Lifting her eyes, she begged, “Help me, Quinn, please help me.”
A moment later, strong arms prevented her from falling. They shook her back to consciousness. “You can’t go to his prodigy.”
“No, I need Quinn. I need him now.”
“You don’t understand!” The vampire’s voice became more insistent. “If he finds out you killed his sire, he will kill you.”
“No! Quinn loves me!” He had professed so only a short time ago.
“He has no choice. It’s the duty of a prodigy to kill his sire’s killer, no matter who this person is. It’s an instinct, as ingrained as the lust for blood. Once he knows what you did, he won’t be able to resist the urge. The pull will be too strong. It’s a duty bred into us.”
“But he loves me . . .” she whispered.
“It won’t matter. If you stay here and let him find you, you’re as good as dead.”
Her heart clenched. Had she been on her own, she would have let it happen, let Quinn find and kill her. But there was Charlotte. She still had to protect Charlotte.
