Blood Like Poison For the Love of a Vampire - By M. Leighton Page 0,96
crazed bellow that pierced the night like a sword, Bo launched himself at Lars.
They tumbled into the grass along the side of the road, grappling and struggling for the upper hand. I watched, breathless and terrified, as they bit and tore at each other. I heard the snap and crunch of bones breaking, the coarse crackle of clothes tearing. But it wasn't until I heard Bo cry out in pain that I felt the agony begin inside my own body.
The knives sliced through my skin, tearing across my face and chest. They made their way down my arms, freeing the fury inside me, letting it pour out to consume the object of my wrath.
The next tortured moan that I heard was not Bo's; it came from Lars. Satisfaction washed through me, but it did nothing to dampen the flames of my rage. It simply propelled me forward, leading me to the two bodies that wrestled in the darkness.
I concentrated on the form of Lars and I let the burn and the pain of my fear for Bo take hold. I used it, directed it, focused it. On Lars. It flowed through me, out of me, around me until every nerve, every inch of skin, every fiber of muscle was saturated with it.
I couldn't contain the cry. It tore through me and burst out of my throat with a life of its own. I closed my eyes to it, gave my soul to it, until I heard an answering cry from Lars.
I felt the shift in power. I felt the surge as Bo overtook him. When I opened my eyes, Bo had pinned Lars to the ground and, with a howl of victory, he bore his teeth and drilled them into the soft tissue of Lars's neck.
Triumph - Bo's, mine, ours - flooded me, eclipsing everything else. It was heady, intoxicating, all-encompassing. It washed over me, wave after delicious wave, until it hit me with a blast of weakness that sent me staggering to the ground.
It was then that I realized what was happening. Bo was draining Lars. And it was killing him.
"Bo, stop!" My breath was not enough to make much sound.
Bo continued.
I felt the poison, the death of it, creeping through my chest as if I'd taken it in as well. I struggled to my knees, desperate to make my way to Bo.
"Bo, please!"
On all fours, I put one shaky limb in front of the other, never taking my eyes off Bo. I couldn't move fast enough to get to him, the frailty was so debilitating. I felt it sinking further and further into my body and I knew Bo didn't have long.
"Bo," I panted, desperate to reach him.
My heart raced frantically until I saw Bo slump onto Lars's chest and then roll lifelessly onto his side. Terror ripped a gaping hole in my heart.
"Bo," I cried, dragging my knees through the gravel.
I felt the cool air dry the tears that were streaming down my face, but they were too fast, too many. They dripped from my chin, hitting the ground in a delicate patter, as I pushed myself toward Bo.
Somewhere in the distance, I could hear someone calling Bo's name over and over and over. It was my own voice, but it was hard to hear over the frenzied pounding of my heart as it drummed in my ears.
When I reached Bo, I gently pushed him onto his back. Every inch of visible skin was that unhealthy greenish black and it was all cracked like the Nevada desert. His mouth and his shirt were stained with blood the color of tar. I didn't need to be told that it was the poisonous, memory-rich blood that Bo had sought for so long. I didn't need to be told the power of it. And the devastation. I'd felt it.
As he looked up at me, I could see that the blackness of it even invaded the whites of his eyes. But still, when he looked at me with those liquid brown orbs, my heart melted.
Bo coughed and drops of inky blood spewed from his mouth, dotting his face like paint spatter.
I couldn't speak past the lump in my throat. Even if I could've, my chest was so tight, I doubted air could flow in and out.