Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
I turn my head and find Paul’s blurry face. His cold-as-ice eyes.
He’s grinning.
I’m reliving the worst day of my life and Syrsee is being fed on like a fucking carcass, and this asshole has the nerve to grin.
“Can you feel it? Can you feel the changes, Ryet?”
“I feel sick.” I try to push him away, maybe even attempt to get up, but there isn’t a chance in hell of that. The whole room spins. I wouldn’t be able to walk to the door if my life depended on it.
“It’s OK, Ryet.” Paul is crooning at me, so pleased with himself. With this outcome. With his dream of our future together. “You just need to drink me now, blood lover. And then you’ll be juuuust fine.”
I think I say no. Well, I would like to think I say no.
But the only thing I actually know is that my teeth are sinking into his skin. And then that blood of his—that elixir that I crave so much, but have been denied so often—is falling down my throat.
In the same moment, Paul brings my wrist up to his mouth and begins taking all this blood back. It is this exchange that makes a vampire. And this is what seals my fate. It wasn’t me drinking Syrsee. It was me drinking Syrsee, and her drinking Paul, and Paul drinking me.
This is how you transfer evil.
This is how you create more darkness.
A circle. A cycle. A ring. A wheel.
We are all turning now.
Syrsee writhes underneath us. Neither of us are feeding on her, so the blood lust is probably wearing off. But we are both leaning on her and there’s no way she can escape.
I want to resist it. I do.
But I can’t.
Because my kids are still fucking singing about their shining fucking hearts and Paul’s blood is flooding into my mouth and all I want to do is devour him.
Him. Not her.
Paul.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX – SYRSEE
It’s not gonna happen that way because of me.
I am lost in a forest, running and yelling. “Ryet!” I scream it. “Ryet!”
But he doesn’t answer.
I’m barefoot and my feet are all cut up. Every step comes with pain, but I keep going. I keep running. And then a path appears and up ahead there’s a small meadow with sunshine.
If I could just get to the sunshine…
Lucia is suddenly in front of me. I stop abruptly, almost crashing into her. “Well, this isn’t how I saw it going.”
“You bitch! You fucking bitch!” I lunge at her. Not with any kind of cognizant reason, but then again, maybe there is. Because my hands are outstretched, my fingers making a ring, and I’m going to wrap them around her neck and choke the—
“I’m already dead, Syrsee.”
Then I’m on the ground, looking up at her now. “What have you done?” Purple mist floats all around us.
“What have I done? I told you to kill yourself and feed the baby! And what are you doing? Writhing around on the bed with two monsters, sucking blood, and getting off, and none of this was my doing!”
“How?” I’m breathless when I get to my feet. “How am I supposed to do that? I’m stuck between them! I’m literally in the middle of a fucking blood orgy!”
“Didn’t we go over this? The cloak, darling! The fucking cloak!”
And just as those words leave her mouth, the forest fades away and she goes with it.
The cloak.
The purple.
Shit. She’s right. I totally forgot.
I’m… the… night mare?
Whatever that is.
It doesn’t matter what it is. I’m not even sure I want to know what it is. All that matters is that I know what being the night mare means.
I control the dreamwalk.
And I can trap Paul here. I can take him out of our world and leave him in this one. All I have to do is find him, really. And… then… well, I’m not sure.
But ya know what I am sure of? Fuck this shit. Fuck. This. I will not spend my life between these two monsters in a blood orgy.
I won’t.
I’d rather die.
And just as I think these words, like the goddamned purple is a living, breathing thing that can read my mind, I’m in that snowy clearing again. The very one where I saw Paul the vampire for the first time.
Only he’s not here.
Something else is.
A baby wrapped in furs. It is crying softly. Leftover sobs, maybe. Like it’s been crying for hours already and has finally given up. I take a step in that direction on instinct, but then I hear the sound of footsteps on snow behind me and when I turn, I find him there. Watching me.
Paul.
“Are you ready now?”
I straighten up. Gather myself. It’s not fear I’m trying to push away. It’s uncertainty. Because I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know what comes next. I have not been properly prepared for this role I’m playing. I force the bravado. “Depends, I guess. On what you expect me to do.”