Survivor - By Kaye Draper Page 0,81

too much. He wanted to chase me. Instead, I stood still and let him grab me again. This time I hinged from the hips and lifted one leg off the floor. Lifting it, I wrapped it around his torso and threw him across the room, my odd movements surprising him.

I picked up a heavy candelabra just seconds before his move in that direction. “Ah-ah-ah,” I chided. “Big boy like you doesn’t need a weapon.”

He slowed, glaring at the candlestick in my hand. It was all starting to make sense to him now. I stepped right just before his feint in that direction. I ducked just before he threw a punch at my face, laughing merrily. “Now you get it dumb ass,” I said mockingly.

Somehow, ever since I tasted his blood, I knew exactly what he was going to do before he even moved. “I’ve got your number,” I whispered, tapping my head in illustration.

He lost some of his cocky aggression and dropped back a step. “What the hell are you?”

“You attacked my coven.” I slowly circled the end of the couch and began moving toward him, automatically compensating for his evasive movements before he even made them.

His aura spiked with fear and I drank it up, pulling information from him without even having to ask. The more scared he got, the easier it was. I could see it in my head. He had been a coven member before Peter or Leah. He thought he was next in line for master. He had known John was going to kill himself and he had been glad, hungry for the power he would be granted when the old man was gone and he became master.

Only John had ignored him and appointed Leah. One of his last actions had been to cast this man out, knowing him for what he was. Grasping. Power hungry. Not the forward thinking leader who would break the centuries of vampire ruthlessness and oppression. I saw it clearly, his hunger for the deaths of the coven. Not only Leah, but Peter. He was particularly fond of the thought of ripping Peter to shreds. And in that moment, I saw too much.

Everything went red, a bloody hue that hazed my world. I felt something in me snap, and reason, thought…humanity… faded away into nothingness as I reached for the terrified vampire.

Eventually, a voice intruded into my numbness. It was a male voice, husky and rich, like grey silk. My conscious mind, and the last bits of my humanity, began to return to me like old, faded memories. Something in me, something wild and primal, flared up in protest, and I heard the voice of the being that lived inside me- the one that gave me life and power- but the grey silk voice spoke again and the fire of that other voice was snuffed like a candle. I took a shuddering breath, smelling blood and death. And Peter.

I opened my eyes and touched the big hands grasping my shoulders. I heard him call my name, though I knew he hadn’t said it aloud. It was his aura speaking to mine. My master had pulled me back from the brink of insanity. I stifled the part of me that felt sadness that I could no longer feel that other being.

I looked around the room, still feeling dazed and unreal. Others were moving about. I heard Leah’s voice somewhere. There were body parts on the carpet, and I realized the invading vampire was dead. Really dead. Then my awareness snapped back into place with a twang and I gagged at the taste of his blood in my mouth.

Haine was reclining on the couch while Viktor held his arm on until it could heal. Someone had ripped it off. His silvery blue eyes met mine and he arched an eyebrow in a wry expression. “Welcome back. Sorry for startling you.”

I looked at Peter, panicked. “Did I…” I swallowed hard. “Did I do that?”

His silver eyes slowly began to turn green again. “You didn’t mean to,” he said tiredly.

I shook my head and Viktor snorted. “Blood lust.” Haine shrugged his good shoulder and waved it off, but he looked awful- weak and wan. About what you’d expect after having your arm ripped off.

“Don’t beat yourself up, kid,” he said generously. “We’ve all been there. I’m old enough to know better than to get in the way of a new turn whose lost control.”

I bit my lip. I wanted to beg forgiveness, but I knew