A Whisper of Eternity - By Amanda Ashley Page 0,79
his chest. Her nails, as sharp as claws, ripped through flesh and muscle.
With a mighty roar, he summoned his power, gathered it to him, and threw the two male vampires away from him.
Like cats, they landed on their feet. Surrounding him, they darted in, but he was ready for them now. Grabbing Zarabeth by the neck, Dominic hurled her into a pile of wooden boxes. Zarabeth shrieked as a box broke beneath her weight, driving a sharp piece of wood into her back and through her heart. It was a death blow. Dark red blood spurted from the wound.
Petrinascreamed in rage as her fledgling breathed her last.
Lasloand Franco rushed him from either side. He grasped each of them by the collar and slammed their heads together in a satisfying crack. They fell to the ground, momentarily stunned.
And now Petrina and Turk circled him, their fangs gleaming in the moonlight.
Panting, his strength ebbing like the outgoing tide, Dominic faced them, his fangs bared.
Young and foolish, Turk lunged forward. Summoning the last of his strength, Dominic grabbed Turk by the neck. With a cry, he ripped out the other vampire's throat,then tossed him aside. The vampire sprawled on the pavement like a broken doll.
Standing alone now, Petrina screamed again.
Drawing himself up to his full height, Dominic beckoned to her. "Come," he said, "let us end it now."
Laslostaggered to his feet and grabbed Petrina by the arm. "Let's go," he urged. "He's too strong for us."
"No!"
Laslotugged on her arm again. "Someone's coming!"
With a wordless cry of frustration, Petrina glared at Dominic as she lifted the lifeless Zarabeth into her arms and then melted into the shadows. Franco lurched to his feet, picked up Turk, and followed Petrina and Franco down the street.
Dominic staggered into the alley, hiding in the shadows as a patrol car passed by.
He stood there, panting heavily, while blood flowed from his wounds.
He needed to find shelter.
He needed blood.
He neededTracy .
Tracysat in the living room, a blanket drawn over her legs. Earlier, she had turned on the TV for company, but she was only vaguely aware of what was going on. She'd had a feeling of impending doom ever since Dominic left the house. Time and again she stared at the clock on the mantel, willing the minutes to hurry by, willing him to return to her.
Something had gone wrong. She knew it without knowing how she knew, knew it with such certainty it made her sick to her stomach.
She glanced atBryan , sleeping soundly on the sofa. Once, she had tried to wake him up, but, caught in whatever spell Dominic had put on him, he had mumbled something about walls and turned over, oblivious to her presence.
"Dominic."
She fell asleep with his name on her lips.
She woke with a start. Frowning, she opened her eyes and glanced around, wondering what it was that had awakened her.Bryan was still asleep on the sofa. The voice of an early morning talk show host droned from the television set. Thinking it must have been the TV that awakened her, she closed her eyes, only to open them again as a faint scratching sound reached her ears. At first, she thought it was only the leaves brushing against the side of the house. And then it came again, louder this time. Someone, or something, was scratching at the front door.
Filled with trepidation, she rose to her feet and padded barefoot toward the foyer. "Is someone there?"
Tracy. Dominic's voice sounded in her mind.
"Dominic? Is that you?"
I need your help.
Pushing the curtains aside, she peered through the front window, gasped when she saw him sprawled out on the floor of the porch.
Turning the lock, she opened the door. "Dominic!"
He reached for her hand and she grasped it in her own. Lifting him to his feet, she helped him into the house, closed and locked the door behind them.
Once inside, he sagged against her. It took all her strength to help him into the kitchen. He sank down in a chair, squinting against the light as she removed his blood-soaked shirt and trousers. Even his socks were drenched with blood.
Tracystared at him in horror. His face and hands were badly burned. The skin on his chest was deathly pale, his eyes were red and sunken.
"What happened to you? Did Kitana do this?"
"No."
Pulling a dish towel from a drawer, she wet it in the sink and as gently as she could, began to wipe the blood from his face. He winced and jerked away from her touch.