the door, but it hits only me. I bolt to my feet.
“Something’s wrong.”
I reach out with my senses. Closing my eyes, I extend beyond the cabin. I push my power out, down through my bloodline. I can connect with every living and non-living being on the property that has consumed my blood within the last month.
Tiny filaments of energy reach out from my core. They sweep out into the darkness, meeting a strong spark at every end. Except one. One is flickering and failing fast. It’s dying. And someone is taking that life. A life that is mine.
Chapter Twenty-three
“It’s Paul. Someone has drained him of blood.”
I bolt from the table and rip the cabin door off its hinges in my haste to make it into the night. The men’s voices sound behind me in the distance but I can’t chance stopping or slowing for a moment to allow them to catch up. I must get to Paul quickly before he’s gone for good.
Dria! It could be a trap! Rafe shouts in my mind.
I race down the paved paths, barely feeling my feet touch the ground. No, Ivan has left him. I can sense Paul’s alone. He’s lost a lot of blood.
Where is he? We’ll meet you.
Sprinting as fast as I can, I round the last bend that leads to the hotel. Bushes and twinkling lights stream past me like a continuous beam of headlights speeding along a highway. He was heading home, to the family cabins. He’s on a snowmobile trail about a half-mile northwest of the main building.
We’ll meet you there as soon as we can. What are you going to do?
I’ll let you know the options when I get there.
No sooner do I finish that thought I hear Paul’s labored breathing up ahead in the darkness.
“Paul! It’s me, Vivian! I’m coming!”
I come upon his snowmobile first. The red machine leans on its side and the engine has stopped. Paul lies face down, very still, on the hard, ice-packed trail.
I turn him over and place his head in my lap. His skin is deathly pale, his heartbeat faint in my ears. The end is near for Paul.
Crap! We’ve run out of options, Rafe. I would suggest Jon bite him, but he’s too far gone to survive the virus. Should I do it?
You’re asking me? It’s your choice. But I’d like to argue that he does have a wife and two children.
Oh God, that makes it harder. On the one hand, I can change him and if things don’t work out or he’s not happy with the choice, I could kill him again. On the other, he’s got kids and it should really be between him and his family to make the choice to turn.
Well, it’s always easier to beg for forgiveness than ask for permission.
Decision made, I tear into my wrist with my teeth while I listen deep inside him. His heart grows more and more faint, and I wait for the crucial moment. A vampire can only be turned if you catch the human at the right point in time before death. The virus is ingested and then works its way through the tissue before the life is completely lost. I’ve never been one of those doubters, wondering whether or not vampires have a soul. If we never truly die, then how would we lose it?
Our actions before and after we turned is what will eventually damn us—not proof positive that we have souls or not. Paul must lose nearly all of his blood and have it replaced with a vampire’s blood before death to turn into one of the undead. Rafe’s mate bond is different. He donated and consumed a liter a day for ten days as part of the ritual to become my mate, but he was never near death at any time.
Rafe, I’m going to need a full donation from several sources. Paul’s going to require a lot of my blood.
Shit. And you just fed from Jon last night.
I open Paul’s mouth with my right hand and lower my left wrist to his lips. I squeeze my forearm a bit to get the blood to course between his lips. Once his mouth is full, I massage his throat to swallow it down.
Well, that leaves you. I can’t take nearly enough from you to sustain me for long. Damn, who would have thought this would happen? I can’t believe I don’t have a plan covering this scenario. What the hell!
I search for alternatives in my mind,