salty and metallic. I swallow quickly so I can speak.
“Is this how you killed her?” My voice is primitive, animalistic. “Is this how you raped Melissa?”
Again, I repeat my actions. His head jerks back much easier now that I’ve bit away his throat. I’m ready to rip it from his shoulders, but just before I do, satisfaction gleams in his eyes. It’s the last thing I see before his head is severed, and those eyes cloud over in a death mask.
Dropping his horrid body, I stagger back, falling against the column of the pavilion. The delirium is broken. I’m awake, and I realize he controlled me all the way to the end.
He knew I had his blood in my veins from our psychic connection. He used my rage. He beat me with the most cunning vengeance imaginable. He caused me to drink his blood as I made the kill.
He turned me into the thing he was. The very thing I hate.
16
Changes
Melissa
I feel it the moment I’m released. I’m lying in Mariska’s bed, not sleeping as always, watching the dark sky grow darker as I do every night until it reaches the darkest point and the light begins creeping up the horizon—at which point, I fall asleep.
Demeter’s house isn’t designed for company, so I’m in this bed while Elaine is on the pull-out couch. Mariska sleeps with her grandmother.
Ever since Patrick left us, we’ve been on edge. Patchouli candles are lit in every window filling the house with their heavy, spicy perfume. Demeter ordered her granddaughter out into the garden to snip several stalks off her rosemary and yarrow plants, and then she ground them into a powder she sprinkled around the front and back doors. After that, she went to her attic and proceeded to chant for a good hour.
I don’t think she’s afraid. Fear isn’t part of the equation. It’s more of a ritual, something she does whenever she’s under spiritual attack. What surprised me most of all were her prayers. She’s said traditional Catholic prayers all evening in addition to the protection and hiding spells. I suppose we need all the help we can get.
Elaine had shut the light off early, but she’s lying on the pull-out listening, watching, when I creep into the dim living room. I don’t want to disturb her. I have no right to ask her to do this. Derek is nothing to me. We’ve slept together a few times… I drank his blood… he drank mine… Oh, hell, who am I kidding? I’m going insane with worrying about him.
My friend’s eyes are closed and her brow is lined as I crawl into the bed beside her. The only light shines from the patchouli candles in the windows. Still, I can see her eyes moving rapidly behind her lids as if she’s watching an action film.
I’ve only seen her this way a handful of times. Usually, it’s when her family members are in trouble and she’s trying to figure out a way to help them. She’s hearing from Patrick, I’m sure of it. I snuggle into her side.
“What’s happening?” I whisper.
She hesitates. Her slim body stiffens. “Stuart is going to be okay,” she says softly.
At first, I’m startled. I didn’t know Stuart was in danger. “I’m glad,” I say truthfully. However, I’m far less worried about their alpha shifter than I am my beautiful hunter. “What else?”
A few moments pass. The clock on Demeter’s mantle ticks so loudly, I wonder how I never noticed it before.
“Sloan is dead. They burned his body and scattered the ashes.”
Nodding against her shoulder, I can’t hide the relief in my voice. “I felt it as soon as it happened. It was like a heavy chain had been taken off my neck.”
“Yes,” she says softly. “You were his slave. We came here to set you free.”
I think about her words a moment. She’s absolutely right. Our entire reason for this trip—just between the two of us—was to find a cure for my hybrid state. Now it’s been accomplished, it seems, by my strong, beautiful, amazing man. He promised to save me, and he did.
Heat moves through my pelvis, and I close my eyes imagining what it will be like to sleep with him as a mere mortal. He was overwhelming when I was a hybrid. I can only imagine how my human body will respond. It takes so much to affect a vampire.
“When will they be here?” I hope my voice isn’t breathless. I imagine Elaine can read my