Yearn For Blood (Blood Origins Book 1)

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Yearn For Blood (Blood Origins Book 1) Page 8

by Tiffany Heiser


  I was terrified to obey him. I didn’t want to give him

  anything he wanted. But the temptation of being free of his

  gruesome hold was too much to refuse. I scrambled to my feet.

  “Don’t run,” he said softly. “You know I can catch you.”

  I backed away. I couldn’t help it. I put five feet between

  us, then ten…

  And in a heartbeat, Bristol had closed the gap. I didn’t

  even see him move. One moment he was leaning against a tree

  and watching me edge away from him, the next, he had me by

  the throat. “I told you not to run from me, Rena. Don’t

  overestimate your own power. The others might live in fear of

  you, but I don’t. I know you’re no danger as long as you have

  no idea what you are.”

  I tried to speak but couldn’t. His grip on my throat was

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  too tight.

  “She can’t breathe!” Cecile’s voice was a shriek.

  “She’s changing,” he practically crooned, stroking my

  cheek with the back of his hand. “She’s different, isn’t she? Yes, almost finished, almost done. But not quite, are you, little girl?

  Enough of what you were still remains. And until you’ve

  finished your metamorphosis, you’ll never be able to

  overpower me. Even Cryder knows that.”

  “How do you know Cryder?” Cecile asked.

  I didn’t want to know the answer. I could only think of

  one possibility. Cryder must be his partner in crime, his

  accomplice in committing the gristly murders we’d

  encountered. That was the only explanation that answered

  everything, from the reason Cryder hadn’t wanted to involve

  the police to Cryder’s mysterious drink. It wasn’t a vitamin

  drink at all. They were giving me something to weaken me, to

  make me less of a threat, so that they’d be able to kill me. It

  must have been the plan all along.

  Except. .except why would I have ever been considered

  a threat? Bristol easily had a hundred pounds on me. He’d

  relaxed his grip some, enough that I could breathe

  comfortably, but he was restraining me with no effort, and I

  was sure he could crush my windpipe if he wanted to. He

  claimed he wasn’t afraid of me, but the question remained—

  why was anybody? How did they know who she was? There

  were so many more questions, that she didn’t have the time to

  ask or even find an answer for at that moment.

  Bristol’s voice jerked my attention back to him. “Cryder

  BLOOD ORIGINS- BOOK ONE

  and I have more in common than you can imagine.”

  “No. Cryder’s nothing like you.” I could hear the lack

  of conviction in Cecile’s voice.

  Bristol must have heard it too, because he laughed.

  “You’re not really sure what Cryder’s like, are you?”

  “He was kind to us…”

  “He appeared in your lives out of nowhere. Just like I

  did. He frightened you and confused you, didn’t he? Admit it.”

  “There’s nothing unusual about being wary of a

  stranger. That doesn’t mean anything.”

  I closed my eyes. Cecile, stop fighting. Why was she so

  determined to stick up for Cryder?

  “Didn’t you wonder why he chose Rena so quickly?”

  Bristol turned back to me. “Didn’t you question why he

  wanted you? You didn’t think he saw you—you—on the street

  and fell in love, did you? You’re a foolish girl, but you can’t be that naive.”

  I had wondered. Of course, I had. I’d never let myself

  articulate the idea, but Bristol was right. Cryder had fallen for me much too quickly. What did he even know about me?

  “All right,” Cecile said, and her voice had taken on the

  wry overtones she used when she was about to score a point in

  an argument. I usually hated that voice, because it meant I was

  about to be shown up, but right now all I heard was

  confidence. Maybe her confidence was misplaced, but it gave

  me hope. “Tell us, then. What was Cryder doing with Rena?”

  Bristol laughed, a short burst. “Were you jealous?”

  A pause. “I don’t see the relevance.”

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  “You were. You couldn’t understand why anyone

  would choose her over you.”

  “Is that true?” I asked. Cecile was charming, and she’d

  always had a way with guys. She’d never pined after a guy, at

  least as far as I was aware—they threw themselves at her and

  she blew through them, never allowing herself to get tied

  down. I, meanwhile, had never had a boyfriend or even been

  kissed. Until Cryder, that is. Could she really be jealous now

  that I was finally getting some attention?

  “Don’t listen to this crap, Rena,” Cecile said.

  “That’s right, Rena,” Bristol agreed. “She doesn’t

  understand you, does she? She has no idea how special you are.

  She’s never known.” His voice dropped a degree in pitch and

  volume. “You’d like to make her pay, wouldn’t you?”

  Yes. The thought bubbled up from somewhere deep and

  primal within me, somewhere I didn’t know existed. I was

  appalled the moment it entered my mind, yet I couldn’t

  pretend it hadn’t existed. I couldn’t deny that warm, bitter

  satisfaction I’d felt at the idea of. .of hurting Cecile, making her see that I wasn’t just some loser to be brushed aside. I deserved to be noticed.

  No. What was wrong with me? I flinched away from

  myself in horror. Of course, I didn’t want to hurt Cecile. It

  wasn’t her fault guys liked her, for God’s sake. And if she’d

  ever felt a moment of jealousy about my date—relationship?—

  with Cryder, she hadn’t let me see it.

  “Cryder saw the truth about you,” Bristol murmured.

  “Cryder saw the danger. I see it too.”

  BLOOD ORIGINS- BOOK ONE

  “What danger?” Cecile demanded.

  “You’re stalling.” His eyes cut sideways at her. “I know.

  I see what you’re doing. You’re trying to distract me. You’re

  hoping someone will find us. He released my neck and I fell to

  my knees. I needed to run. I needed to get my feet under me

  and run, go to town, get help. Put as much distance as possible

  between myself and this. .this beast of a man. But he was

  stalking Cecile now, edging closer to her. She backed away

  from him until she was pressed against the trunk of a tree, and

  he leaned in, his handsome, terrible face inches from hers.

  “No one’s going to find us, Cecile,” he said.

  I felt like screaming.

  “Prevailing wisdom is that you shouldn’t play with your

  food, isn’t it?” He leaned close to her, obscenely, intimately

  close. Like a lover. “But it’s just so tempting.”

  “What are you talking about?” I breathed.

  “Oh, Rena.” Bristol shook his head, not turning his gaze

  from Cecile. “You’re the last to know, aren’t you? Always the

  last to know. Even your friend is starting to wonder, aren’t

  you, Cecile? Even she has a guess. But you. .you’d never have

  figured it out.”

  “Figured what out?” The words were out bef
ore I could

  decide whether I truly wanted the answer.

  Bristol’s answering chuckle was low and horrible.

  “What we are.”

  Again, he moved so quickly that I couldn’t track him.

  One moment he was leering at Cecile, the next, he had me

  backed up against a tree trunk, the rough bark scraping my

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  shoulders. His face was contorted into a horrible snarl. As I

  watched, something seemed to shift in his mouth, and another

  set of teeth lowered over his incisors.

  No, not teeth.

  Fangs.

  He caught my eyes with his, and with a rush of horror, I

  noticed that the color of his eyes was changing, brightening.

  Burgundy. Maroon. Red. Bright, blood red.

  What we are, he’d said. What.

  Not a murderer.

  Not even human.

  He bent close and sniffed the artery in my neck,

  hummed with pleasure, and I thought, vampire, vampire, but

  how could it be?

  “Rena!” Cecile’s voice was pure panic now, no more

  stalling, no more games. Her head appeared over Bristol’s

  shoulder—she’d jumped onto his back—but he threw her off

  easily. Her body hit the ground with a thump and I gasped, but

  Bristol’s hand was already around my throat. This time, he

  held tight. I gagged and my eyes watered, and I tried to bat

  him off, but he was strong. So strong. Inhumanly strong.

  This is really happening. He’s a vampire.

  I thought of the bloody corpse under the bench in the

  park, and of poor Caitlin lying on the forest floor, and as

  Bristol’s lips met my neck I knew, beyond any doubt, that my

  fate would be the same as theirs. I prayed silently that Cecile

  would escape, that she hadn’t been hurt too badly when he’d

  thrown her. Maybe she had already run away. Maybe she

  BLOOD ORIGINS- BOOK ONE

  wouldn’t have to watch this.

  God, don’t let her have to watch this.

  God, don’t let me be alone when I die.

  I felt the pressure of bone, of Bristol’s (vampire) fangs at

  my neck, and my final thought was of Cryder and the fact that

  I would never learn whether he’d meant to harm me, or if, by

  chance, whatever we’d had was real.

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  Chapter Ten

  MY VISION ENDED...DARKENED...BLACKENED…

  And then returned.

  I gasped, my lungs grasping almost involuntarily at air,

  hauling oxygen back into my bloodstream. My throat burned,

  but with every breath, my vision cleared, and I became more

  aware of my senses. My hearing returned. The tight grip of

  Bristol’s hand around my throat. It had loosened,

  though...why?

  He wasn’t looking at me.

  He was looking off to the left. I followed his gaze.

  Cecile.

  She lay where Bristol had thrown her, unmoving, eyes

  closed. I couldn’t tell if she was breathing or not. Blood gushed from somewhere beneath a clump of hair. That could mean

  anything, though, I reminded myself. Head wounds like to bleed.

  We’d learned that in health class, during our first aid unit.

  Head wounds often look scarier than they really are. She might

  be okay. She might just have a concussion, or…

  BLOOD ORIGINS- BOOK ONE

  Bristol sniffed the air.

  It was inhuman, that sniff. His ears nearly perked up.

  He looked like a dog—like a wolf—scenting prey.

  Vampire.

  Scenting blood.

  With the same superhuman speed he’d already

  demonstrated, he released me and moved to her. Crouching

  over her prone body, he lowered his nose to the blood pooling

  around her head and inhaled deeply. When he lifted his head,

  his eyes were closed and the expression on his face was one of

  rapture.

  I was going to be sick.

  Summoning every ounce of energy in my oxygen-

  deprived muscles, I launched myself at Bristol. I should have

  run, probably—hadn’t I just been hoping that Cecile would

  take advantage of Bristol’s distraction with me to make her

  own escape? —but I couldn’t. It was too much to ask. In the

  end, I doubted Cecile could have done it either. We’d been

  friends for too long. We were too deeply bonded. The idea of

  running away while this...this thing crouched over her sniffing

  at her blood was almost as repulsive as Bristol himself. If I’d

  abandoned her, I too would’ve been an animal.

  Vampire.

  He’s going to kill me, I thought, just before my body

  made impact with Bristol’s. Surely the idea of my own

  imminent demise should have lost some of its power by now?

  If only I’d known I was going to die, known it for sure, this

  would’ve all been much easier. Instead I kept finding false

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  hope, believing I had a chance at escape. Without my even

  realizing it, when Bristol had released me, I’d found hope

  again. But no. I was truly at the end of the line.

  I drove into him hard, like an egg against a brick wall. I

  was surprised not to be liquefied. I’d never thought of the

  human body as pliant before, but Bristol’s muscles made him

  rock hard. The impact bruised me. Still, I couldn’t give up. My

  only chance was to distract him from Cecile, to turn his

  attention back to me. Maybe if I could do that long enough to

  persuade him to kill me first, she’d be able to recover

  consciousness and run away. Or maybe.. maybe someone

  would find us…

  No. Stop hoping, Rena. You’re on your own.

  I beat my fists against Bristol’s back, and he let out a

  fearsome roar.

  As he got to his feet, I wrapped my legs around his

  waist. I wouldn’t let him throw me off the way he had thrown

  Cecile. Hanging on tight with my thigh muscles, I continued

  my assault on his upper body, searching for weak spots. I

  found none. I slammed my fist into his neck, prompting a

  howl, but it seemed fueled more by rage than pain. I tried

  slamming the heel of my hand into his nose, but the angle was

  awkward, and I missed and connected with his cheekbone.

  That blow probably did more damage to me than to him.

  “Cecile!” I screamed.

  She didn’t stir.

  “Cecile, please!”

  Bristol whipped his body, shaking me from side to side,

  BLOOD ORIGINS- BOOK ONE

  determined to throw me. I clung to him more fiercely,

  breathing hard, equally determined to maintain my hold. My

  ankles found each other, and I locked them together,

  tightening my grip on his broad torso. I wrapped one arm

  around his neck, bringing my forearm to bear like a rod

  against his throat, and pulled it tight by wrapping my other

  arm around that wrist. I’d learned the technique from Cecile,

  who had learned it from her father, an army veteran. The idea

  was to cut off your adversary’s air supply, which seemed

  fitting—I would do to Bristol what he had done to me.

  He huffed out something that sounded lik
e a laugh.

  “Can’t choke me, Rena.”

  His voice was raspy, devoid of air. He was lying. I pulled

  tighter.

  “Don’t need to breathe,” he hissed. “You can make

  me.. quiet. .can’t make me die. Not this way.”

  I felt cold, then hot. “You’re lying--.”

  “No reason.”

  “--to make me let you go.”

  He choked out another laugh. “Don’t care. Don’t let go.

  Doesn’t matter.”

  Suddenly we were moving in a direction I didn’t

  understand. Were we flying? Could vampires fly, on top of

  everything?

  No. My back struck the ground with such force that the

  shock of it very nearly made me let go of Bristol. He had

  turned a somersault in midair and come down on his back. On

  my back. I was lucky not to have been seriously injured.

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  You’re going to die anyway, I reminded myself. Distract

  him. Take up his time.

  “Stubborn,” Bristol grunted. “Parasite.”

  “You’re the one who feeds on people.”

  He got to his feet and I braced myself for another flip,

  another impact on my back, but this time we moved in a

  different direction. When the impact came, it wasn’t as hard as

  the last strike had been, but sharp spikes of pain bit into the

  flesh of my back. I cried out. He was pushing me into the bark

  of a tree.

  “Let go,” he hissed. “Let go and this ends.”

  “You won’t let me live.”

  He rubbed his back—my back—up and down the bark,

  and it scraped and gouged at me. I could only imagine the dirt

  that was being pushed into the wounds he was digging in my

  skin, and I bit back a sob of pain.

  “I’ll let you die,” he said.

  And, God. I wanted to say yes.

  It was going to happen anyway. Just let it be now. Just

  let it end.

  Cecile…

  But she wasn’t waking up. I couldn’t save her.

  I released Bristol’s body and slipped to the ground

  behind him. A hair’s breadth of a second later, he was facing

  me again, his hand back at my throat, and this time, the

  pressure didn’t stop. It lifted.

  He was holding me up by my neck.

  I closed my eyes.

  BLOOD ORIGINS- BOOK ONE

  “Rena!” someone shouted. A new voice. Not Cecile.

  My eyes snapped open. Cryder?

  He was standing several yards behind Bristol, his eyes

 

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