Chapter
One
Elliot
The hunger rips through me.
Vast.
Deep.
Clawing.
His blood is still in my mouth, on my tongue, in my veins, and it sings.
It tastes so fucking sweet, the merest hint of salt. Of something ancient and sacred.
There’s a haziness to my thoughts at first, then my focus sharpens and narrows to one thing and one thing only: I need to eat.
Lucian’s blood might be the sweetest thing, but right now I want human blood.
My fangs start to ache to feed.
I try to stand, but a hand is quick to shove me back down to the cement floor. The grip is iron, the strength immeasurable, but all it does is annoy me. And when I peer up, I see Lucian kneeling beside me.
“Lucy.” I say his nickname again, and like before, it sounds strange coming from my mouth. Sharper and high-pitched. “I’m hungry.”
“I’m sorry, Monty,” he says softly as my mouth salivates and my stomach starts to claw itself raw.
The need pounds in my temples and veins. There are so many things in the air, scents, sounds but the only one that captures me is:
Blood.
I don’t remember what happened. I don’t even remember where I am. There’s just one thought blaring in my head right now, and it consumes me.
God. I’m so fucking hungry!
And Lucian is—he’s stopping me.
There’s blood close by. I can see it. Smell it. Almost taste it beyond the remains of Lucian on my tongue.
Wet. Visceral.
Life-giving.
Mine.
The copper scent fills my nose, canceling out all others.
It should be mine.
Lucian’s talking again; he won’t shut up. Anger burns in me at him for putting his hands on me. I don’t give a fuck what he is or that he can probably rip me apart.
With a howling roar, I rear up, coming at him with nails and fangs extended. I shove him, striking him hard with my hands, slashing my nails over his face as I scramble, sobbing and laughing, desperate for that food.
I stumble to a nearby body, and I rip the flesh to open veins to get to the blood. It’s wet, cooling, and I swallow it all, guzzling it into me with glee.
But that blood isn’t enough. This man’s already dead, and what should be an electric buzzing of his life essence is merely awhisper. It takes only a moment before it’s gone completely, and I’m left with blood that’s dull and bitter-tasting.
