Cara MIA - By Book One of the Immortyl Revolution - By Denise Verrico Page 0,26
throat. Drops of the old delicious claret beaded up along the edge of the wound. My body screamed for it.
Cradling my head in his hands, he guided my mouth to the wound. Heat radiated against my lips. Wonder of wonders, a vampire not cold like death, but so warm, so alive. Boom, boom, his heartbeat was strong and vital. He tasted of the sea, the source of life. I sucked and sucked, couldn’t stop myself if I tried, even though it was sickeningly hot and syrupy.
Then, a popping sensation started, a tingle in my flesh, goose bumps on the inside of my body, rushing through my veins and arteries. I actually felt my cells changing and healing.
The bleeding in my womb was stanched. It would never bleed again. A sharp metallic scent filled the air. Then, it happened, the moment of creation, an electric pulse galvanized my cells and gave birth to the vampiric. New awareness came over my awakened senses. No smell, no taste, and no texture you sense as a mortal ever comes close to the pure sensual, animal glory of the world we experience.
Ethan’s fangs drove into my wrist, an exquisite, hot pain. A climax rocked my body— ten times stronger than anything I ever experienced with Richard. All conscious thought evaporated. All that existed was he and I and the blood passing between us. Light blazed white-hot in him, around him and I rushed toward it headlong. It was the beautiful dreamtime state I couldn’t remember that first night with him. Sensations invaded me, desire, joy, glimpses of heaven inside of the demon, then in the shadowy edges of his consciousness, something veiled… ”
Joe stood up suddenly and rubbed his hand agitatedly against his forehead. “Whoa, now I have a few questions.”
She swallowed hard. “Whatever you want to know, Doctor.”
“You actually felt your body change?”
“Like a million orgasms all over and inside of my body— alternately horrifying and beautiful, ecstasy from the inside out.”
“You’re some kind of empaths? You actually see inside of the psyche?”
The line of questioning irritated her. “It’s different for everyone, but it’s not so much something you perceive intellectually so much as something you feel reverberating through you. Sometimes I remember distinctly, other times… ”
“You have some unique ability in this way?”
“I can see a lot more than most, but only if the other is unguarded. When someone keeps a demon very close, it’s locked inside the subconscious and the only way you can see is if they are unaware, like when they’re asleep or otherwise preoccupied, like really horny.”
“Doesn’t seem possible.”
She became very still. Was a tempest brewing? He watched for it yet her response was surprisingly clear and her tone ladylike.
“I’m sure you’ll find it’s just some biochemical magic. Can’t you just smell the Nobel Prize?”
Standing in front of her place at the desk, he continued to marvel, “This is incredible! I thought it was all about strength and agility, sensory apparatus, but a way to see into the mind… ”
“I don’t read minds.” She searched for the right words. “I… feel impressions of their memory. I’m told it’s almost exclusively a female trait and rare at that.”
He met her eyes. Dark mirrors glittered silently back. Before he couldn’t hold her gaze for long, but he was unable to turn away now. “Incredible.”
“There’s a down side. Think about it.”
“I can’t stop thinking! There’s so much I want to know. You perceive actual images?”
“Sometimes it’s a scenario, a real cast of characters and setting and all, other times it’s much cloudier. This first time, he was full of blinding light… but he was hiding.”
“How could you tell?”
She shrugged. “That’s how I remember it, like I was watching him on television. Suddenly the monitor went blank. When the picture came back, he’d switched the channel, new program.”
“Did it reveal anything about him?”
“That he had a lot to hide. I just didn’t know what. Eventually, I got around to figuring it out. Jungian psychoanalyst, that’s me. Dreams read and revealed, see the truth as it unfolds in gory Technicolor.”
“There’s a biochemical reason for dreams and for this— what do you call it?”
“Sharing essence.”
“Apparently there’s a chemical message sent to your brain via the blood exchange. Somehow messages from the brain of your partner are relayed to yours. Possibly the cerebral cortex is stimulated. The brains of syphilitics are sometimes tormented by spirochetes long after they are cured of the actual symptoms of the disease. They hallucinate, experience heightened sexual desire but I’m inclined