Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 112849 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112849 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Did I ever tell you about Mina? I asked him back. A dumb question because I had told him a million times over.
Every vampire has a sad love story to tell.
He blinked at me, then looked back at Lucille, who was now frowning at us.
This is her? he said. How can it be?
Do you believe in fate, Doctor? What if humans have more lives than one?
Lucille looked over at her friends, perhaps for support as we continued to converse in our heads, but they were still compelled to ignore us.
“We do come to the museum often,” I said to her, clearing my throat and flashing her a smile I hoped would help put her at ease. “I came today so I could check out the Far East exhibit here. Have you managed to get close yet?”
She shook her head, giving me a smile of relief. “No, not yet. I don’t do well in crowds.”
“Ah,” I said. “Well, if you wish, I can accompany you. I have an uncanny ability to make most people stay away from me.”
She seemed to consider that for a moment, then gave me a shy smile. “All right,” she said, then scanned the crowd. “Appears my friends have gone off to see it on their own.”
“Then you shant miss out,” I said, putting my arm out.
She nodded and stepped into me so that my hand went to the small of her back.
I hope you know what you’re doing, Van Helsing said in my mind. You never knew her when you were a vampire. You must be careful.
I wanted to ignore that but he was right.
I had never been a vampire around Mina.
Her death coincided with my rebirth, the transition into a vampire.
I had never loved her when she could have been prey.
I’d never loved anyone while I was a predator.
And yet, I kept my hand at Lucille’s back, smiling down at her, and led her toward the paintings, determined to create a future with her once more, one without so much bloodshed.
Chapter 7
Valtu
“I am a predator,” I say to Bitrus, leaning back in my chair and tilting my head to the sun. This is my favorite time of year in Italy, when the sun doesn’t hurt so much but fills my body with warmth and energy. A damp breeze runs through my garden, making the blood oranges on the branches sway, the silver leaves of the olive trees rustling like feathers. The boats tied up on the canal beside us knock against the wood of the docks like a melody.
“Tell me something I don’t know,” Bitrus muses. I look over at him as he has a sip of his orange-tinted wine, his eyes covered by shades that would have made Blade proud. “I’ve never seen you interested in a woman until they don’t seem interested in you. That goes for humans and vampires alike.”
“This one is different though,” I tell him. “And I can’t put my finger on it. It feels like I know her from somewhere, but no matter how hard I try to place her, my brain puts up a brick wall.”
“Honestly, Valtu, I’m surprised you turned her down,” he says.
“So am I,” I admit. “It was instinctual. Obviously I’m not supposed to date students. The last professor that did that was fired. But it also came from some other level of my subconscious.”
“Perhaps you’re not attracted to her. You fuck anything that walks but I’m sure you have your limits.”
“Funny.” I give him a withering glance. “I do wish that was the case. Would be easier. No, Bitrus, she’s beautiful. Young, supple, and beautiful. The scent of her blood…”
I pinch my eyes shut. The way she smelled the other night, the scent of her blood and lifeforce…it made me want to do some very, very bad things to her.
“Then perhaps you know you’d lose control with her. You have been trying to turn over a new leaf, and yet I’ve seen you lately…”
He doesn’t need to remind me of the Red Room the other day.
“Maybe that’s it,” I say, staring back up at the blue sky above. “She’s just so hot and cold. One minute she’s coming onto me and I feel this urge to back up, to run, and it’s ludicrous because she’s just this girl. The next she acts like she doesn’t care for me, and then I want to stalk her and run her down, pin her to the ground and feast on her.” Though the urge to pin her down and fuck her is even stronger than my bloodthirst. Like I said, I want to do very bad things.
“How old is she?” Bitrus asks.
“Twenty-eight,” I tell him. “But she seems older somehow. Not in her looks but…in her eyes. It’s not all the time, but sometimes I get this glance at her, like I’m seeing the real her and not some front she’s put up, and I see an old soul.”