Survivor - By Kaye Draper Page 0,73

despair that was forever tugging at me. Who ever heard of a depressed vampire?

I breathed in the pleasant smell of dog- warmth, sunshine, and grass. Frustration and helplessness beat at me as I thought of the patterns in my life. I was doomed, it seemed, to always be a burden and a disappointment to someone. I had been a failed creation all my life. First as the daughter that faltered into a wheelchair-bound dependent, and now as the slow, dysfunctional vampire that would never live up the promise of the power she’d been given.

I had been a burden to my parents and sister. Now I was a burden to Peter. He was always kind about it, but I could see the worry in his eyes when he looked at me. That was the reason I hadn’t told him about the dreams. He didn’t need to know that I was even more messed up than he thought. A failed creation.

Peter seemed to hold out some hope that I would get better as I continued to adjust to my new body. I didn’t have his sense of optimism. What I knew and he didn’t was that the mental issues- the need for sleep, the horrifying dreams, the creeping feeling of unease and paranoia- were getting worse. Not better.

My silent sobs shook me as my tired mind ran over the same paths like a hamster in a cheap plastic wheel. There was no way to undo the me that existed now, just as there had been no way to undo the car accident that had left me damaged in the first place. I was utterly powerless to fix the pain in my life. And now I would have to live out eternity this way. Maybe I would completely descend into insanity and become even more of a burden. Maybe Peter would have to dispose of me. Then he would feel guilt and regret for the rest of his long, long life.

The fur under my face had grown damp and the dog started to wiggle and squirm. I reluctantly let him go and he sat up, his long, slender paws still braced on my legs. He perked his floppy ears forward and licked my face, not knowing why I was upset, but wanting to erase the traces of my hurt. I cuddled him close again, and he let me. He was eighty pounds of pure teddy bear, and the clenching in my chest finally eased.

Weary to my very bones, I stood and made my way to the bed. I was afraid I would only dream again, but I really wanted nothing more than to escape into the oblivion that sleep would grant. If the dreams didn’t come, I would have some respite from the feelings of guilt that were threatening to crush me. Taz leapt to his feet, tail wagging and ears cocked forward at a hopeful angle. I patted the bed in invitation and he vaulted up beside me. Circling three times, he flopped down and settled his head on my stomach with a doggie huff.

I gentled my fingers over his soft ears and to the less downy fur on his back. The last of my tension eased with the rhythmic touch, and I finally drifted off into oblivion, his warm weight a comforting anchor in the storm.

Chapter 18

Peter watched Melody as she walked barefoot down the sidewalk. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as she played a game of “don’t step on the cracks,” as if she were a child. It was still surreal to see her moving so freely. He caught her hand in his, pulling her to a stop so he could claim that soft mouth with his. She pressed against him, all lush curves, and supple softness. He smoothed a hand over her ample backside and she giggled, dashing away up the street. Her golden brown hair glinted in the streetlights, making her look like an angel, haloed in light.

He caught up to her, and gave her a mischievous leer, but his teasing expression faded at the sight of her face. Her smile was back almost instantly, but it was thin and forced, just a bit too wide, a bit too bright. “C’mon,” she said lightly, skipping ahead.

Peter’s steps slowed as he considered what to do. When she had been human, her weaknesses were so straightforward. If she couldn’t stand, he could lift her up. If she couldn’t run, he could carry her on his back.

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