bad news.
Her hands held his face still, his eyes closed, he was in love.
Idiot!
And then her teeth grazed his neck. The prelude to the bite.
Break free! I so don’t want to feel this. I tried to break away.
Her lips caressed his throat and he was barely able to stand when she bit him. Hard.
The pain, the syringe-like stabs, the burning sensation, I wanted to collapse. My knees weakened. My senses reeled. I felt like I was falling from a space capsule, kick-dropped into the black void.
Her blood was on his lips, his tongue and down his throat. And then all he recalled was being alone in a dark alley, no sign of the girl, his mind drifting, his skin pale, and strange images were flashing before his eyes.
I didn’t want to see what happened next, my stomach tightening, my fists forming under my pillow, but I was powerless to stop it.
Dominic closed his eyes, trying to block out the strange images floating across his tired brain, but couldn’t. He leaned against the brick wall in the dark alley, his stomach swimming.
I wanted to leave, return home, safe, away from the world I’d found myself in. But I was far, far from home in a different time and place.
The plague had hit England hard and thousands in the city had died. Even the crown prince had taken ill, but just when Lynetta thought she wouldn’t take another breath, something happened. Weak from starvation, she could barely move, but her throat burned as if it were on fire and she craved blood worse than she’d ever wanted anything before. Everyone in her family—her mother, father, aunts and two sisters—had already died, their bodies burned with the rest of the plague victims, their house condemned.
The smells here were even worse than in the alley where I’d just been.
A candle no longer lit the room late that night, yet Lynetta could see as if the room was illuminated by burning tallow. The sound of a rat scurrying across the floor in the dark caught her attention, and she could even hear its heart beating. Every muscle stiff and unresponsive, she rolled off the straw mattress and headed for the rat.
Panic filled me. No, no. Rats carry the plague. Don’t touch the rat!
With a monumental effort, Lynetta dove for the rodent. But instead of crashing into the table where the rat ducked for safety, she half glided, half flew.
The sensation made me feel like I had grown wings, my body weightless and unencumbered. For an instant, I forgot about the rat. But then the gnawing in my belly grew.
Lynetta didn’t think she’d make it in time to reach the scurrying rodent. And she really wasn’t sure what she’d do with the filthy creature if she caught it. But in the next instant, she held it in her hands, bit off its head and was drinking its warm blood. And loving every drop of it.
I shuddered, unable to get the image of fur and blood out of my brain or the taste of the vermin out of my mouth. Raw, filthy blood, yet the taste of it warm against my tongue settled the craving.
“Famished?” a man asked, peering into Lynetta’s room. “My name is Count William Dubois, at your service.” He made a sweeping bow as if she was the queen of England.
I stared at him. My God. He looked like…like Dominic.
Dark-haired and eyed, the man stood six feet tall, his skin pale, his lips stained with blood and lifted upward in a sensuous smile.
“Lynetta Tolliver,” she said, stretching out her hand. He vanished and reappeared before her, reached for her hand, and kissed it with great finesse.
I nearly swooned.
Lynetta nearly did, too, but she didn’t think it was because of the gentleman’s gallantness, but because she was so ill and still starving.
Images of his being with her throughout the centuries passed before my eyes in a series of flickering video clips. Then I watched as another vampire ripped out William’s throat and Lynetta killed her lover’s murderer. It all happened so quickly, it was mostly a blur.
Dangerous and feral, she wanted
Her hands held his face still, his eyes closed, he was in love.
Idiot!
And then her teeth grazed his neck. The prelude to the bite.
Break free! I so don’t want to feel this. I tried to break away.
Her lips caressed his throat and he was barely able to stand when she bit him. Hard.
The pain, the syringe-like stabs, the burning sensation, I wanted to collapse. My knees weakened. My senses reeled. I felt like I was falling from a space capsule, kick-dropped into the black void.
Her blood was on his lips, his tongue and down his throat. And then all he recalled was being alone in a dark alley, no sign of the girl, his mind drifting, his skin pale, and strange images were flashing before his eyes.
I didn’t want to see what happened next, my stomach tightening, my fists forming under my pillow, but I was powerless to stop it.
Dominic closed his eyes, trying to block out the strange images floating across his tired brain, but couldn’t. He leaned against the brick wall in the dark alley, his stomach swimming.
I wanted to leave, return home, safe, away from the world I’d found myself in. But I was far, far from home in a different time and place.
The plague had hit England hard and thousands in the city had died. Even the crown prince had taken ill, but just when Lynetta thought she wouldn’t take another breath, something happened. Weak from starvation, she could barely move, but her throat burned as if it were on fire and she craved blood worse than she’d ever wanted anything before. Everyone in her family—her mother, father, aunts and two sisters—had already died, their bodies burned with the rest of the plague victims, their house condemned.
The smells here were even worse than in the alley where I’d just been.
A candle no longer lit the room late that night, yet Lynetta could see as if the room was illuminated by burning tallow. The sound of a rat scurrying across the floor in the dark caught her attention, and she could even hear its heart beating. Every muscle stiff and unresponsive, she rolled off the straw mattress and headed for the rat.
Panic filled me. No, no. Rats carry the plague. Don’t touch the rat!
With a monumental effort, Lynetta dove for the rodent. But instead of crashing into the table where the rat ducked for safety, she half glided, half flew.
The sensation made me feel like I had grown wings, my body weightless and unencumbered. For an instant, I forgot about the rat. But then the gnawing in my belly grew.
Lynetta didn’t think she’d make it in time to reach the scurrying rodent. And she really wasn’t sure what she’d do with the filthy creature if she caught it. But in the next instant, she held it in her hands, bit off its head and was drinking its warm blood. And loving every drop of it.
I shuddered, unable to get the image of fur and blood out of my brain or the taste of the vermin out of my mouth. Raw, filthy blood, yet the taste of it warm against my tongue settled the craving.
“Famished?” a man asked, peering into Lynetta’s room. “My name is Count William Dubois, at your service.” He made a sweeping bow as if she was the queen of England.
I stared at him. My God. He looked like…like Dominic.
Dark-haired and eyed, the man stood six feet tall, his skin pale, his lips stained with blood and lifted upward in a sensuous smile.
“Lynetta Tolliver,” she said, stretching out her hand. He vanished and reappeared before her, reached for her hand, and kissed it with great finesse.
I nearly swooned.
Lynetta nearly did, too, but she didn’t think it was because of the gentleman’s gallantness, but because she was so ill and still starving.
Images of his being with her throughout the centuries passed before my eyes in a series of flickering video clips. Then I watched as another vampire ripped out William’s throat and Lynetta killed her lover’s murderer. It all happened so quickly, it was mostly a blur.
Dangerous and feral, she wanted
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