It didn’t take long for sleep to claim me. Unfortunately, it was restless and disturbed. It was just past three in the afternoon when I couldn’t take the tossing and turning anymore. Arys remained in the slumber of the undead. He didn’t really need to sleep. Not often anyway. I think he just enjoyed the luxury of it.
Once I tired of staring at the ceiling, I slipped from the bed and padded down the hall, through the living room to the kitchen. I dug through my shoulder bag, looking for Arys’s journal. I didn’t like to leave it at home where it could be found by anybody who might decide to bust in and paw through my stuff.
I paused to check my cell phone for messages: one from Jez and one from my best friend and beta wolf, Kylarai, but nothing from Shaz. I’d hoped to find a text, something to let me know things were cool. So much for that.
I slipped my phone back into my bag, grabbed the journal and headed back to the bedroom. Arys stirred slightly, reaching to touch me as I settled back in beside him.
The pages felt so fragile. I turned them with care, skimming through as I went. There was more on Alice. It didn’t tell me anything I hadn’t already figured out. Harley’s name caught my eye several times. Morbid curiosity drew me to an entry I’d previously skipped over.
Once I turned my full attention to Arys’s memories, recorded decades ago, I got caught up in his words. Everything else fell away but that night captured on the pages in my hands.
December 5, 1849
They were lovely really. Like usual, Harley’s choice. He has a weakness for virgins. Personally, I prefer a woman who knows what she’s doing and can appreciate the things I do to her. The virgins…they tend to scream. A lot. Of course, I have found virgins to be very quick to beg. And, that I just can’t get enough of.
It was easy enough to lure them home. It always is. The right word or gesture, and they’re more than happy to sneak away from a party before their companions notice their absence. Harley can sniff out a virgin anywhere. He claims virgin blood to be the nectar of the gods, but I find it to be a little too pure for my tastes. These women though, they were divine. A blonde and one with deep scarlet hair who was surprisingly eager when I had her spread-eagle on the chaise lounge.
Once Harley’s shy little blonde began shrieking, things really became interesting. Everything had been going splendidly. My little virgin temptress writhed beneath me as I pleasured her with my mouth. She begged for more, and I savored the heat of her womanhood against my tongue as I fed on the burning energy of her desire. It was intoxicating, a prelude to the moment when I would taste her blood.
I had to pause, to focus on taking a breath. I realized I’d held mine while reading. The words sprang to life, pulling me into the scene as Arys’s memory of this night crashed into the front of my conscious thoughts. I was seeing it through his eyes, reliving it as if I’d been there myself.
Screams rang out and my innocent beauty became alarmed. I assured her that there was nothing to fear. Drawn into the lull of my manipulation, she pulled me close, offering herself to me. Harley would have his victim screaming for hours if he could manage it. I wasn’t ready yet to make mine fight for her life. All in good time.
Tight and warm, her body was resistant when I took her. The pained sounds she made as I filled her sent ripples of pleasure throughout me. Her soft whimpers gradually became cries of joy. I was drowning in the waves of her excited energy, drinking it in. I itched to bury my fangs in that delicate throat of hers. Patience is not a virtue I possess. I waited, hoping to time the moment with her climax, preferring to take all that she had to give at once.
I sensed that she was close. My control snapped, and I bit deep into her neck. She screamed. Blood gushed from the wound, and I drank of it greedily. The spell was broken. Free of my thrall, she thrashed violently. I bit her again, pinning her arms above her head. I drank hungrily; her blood coated my tongue deliciously. Though aware that she was in a fight for her life, she couldn’t help but respond to my careful manipulations of her body. Buried deep inside her, I felt her inner muscles clench as climax shook her and euphoria claimed me.
I could taste her. She was mine, and I couldn’t wait to taste her death. To be the bringer of it, the master of all that she was. I heard the shallow gasps for breath but didn’t recognize them as my own. I ceased reading as the memory took over.
Arys had drained her completely. Her screams had accompanied those of her friend, and the vampires took their fill of blood and sex. She begged Arys for her life, pleading and promising. It only encouraged him. Her pleas were like fuel on an open flame. Arys killed her, and he loved every second of it.
The scent of her was thick in my nostrils. Fear, lust and blood all entwined in one storm of sensation to overwhelm me. I was suddenly beside myself with need.