Oh, her damn throat. She could just scratch it out; she was so out of her mind. Her natural instincts were overriding her reason.
Light beeping sounds emitted from her body. What is that? And then, she recalled Drew’s warning. It was a form of biosonar also known as echolocation like bats possess. Involuntarily, her body released calls to the environment so that she would be able to analyze the echoes of those calls as they returned from the various objects. Once she gained experience, she could use the echoes to find and identify the objects. But for now, she had no idea what to make of them.
She looked around the dark parking lot, ignoring the faint sounds. The street lamp was flickering on and off. Across the way a man was coming out of the restroom. She froze. Now he was getting into his car.
Her pulse sped up. She didn’t move an inch. The ignition started in his car. Another man walked out of the restroom. He looked like he was in his early twenties. He was putting coins in the snack machine. The first man drove away.
Nobody else seemed to be around. There was no movement in the semi-trucks. Maybe she would just talk to him.
She started to walk over in her slinky dress, but then she stopped. What was she doing? Her heart was pounding way too fast. She forced herself to breathe. Look human, she said to herself. She thought about the ways of the vampire as Drew had explained it earlier to her before the party. She had to pretend.
She approached the guy as he walked over to his VW bug. There was a surfboard tied to the top. “Going to the beach?” she laughed at her stupid question.
“Huh?” His face turned white at her startling approach. He looked at her body and stunning face and swallowed. “Uh, yeah. I’m meeting some friends. We’re getting a hotel near Mission Beach. What are you doing?”
Her hands balled into fists. She could hear another repetitive sound in her ears. Thump, thump, thump… It was his heart pumping the blood through his veins. It was such a rapturous rhythm. And the scent—it was warm and musky. Oh, how she yearned to touch him. She just stared at his neck.
“Are you okay?” he asked, looking at her as his keys dangled in his fingers.
Her eyes lifted to his and she continued to stare.
He started to turn to unlock his car door, but she put her hand on his shoulder. His eyes widened. “Jeez, you are cold.” He turned back to her. “You want a lift?”
“No,” she said suddenly. “I just want directions to the nearest city.” She wanted to touch his body, slide her hands under his shirt. Lick the vein she saw lifting under the skin of his neck.
He laughed lightly. “That’s easy. Just drive about five miles and when you see the city lights, take the off ramp.”
“Are there bars there?” She bit her lip. Now her mind started to reel.
He laughed again. Maybe he thought she was strange. “Usually, girls who look like you don’t just walk around in the night. It’s not safe.” He glanced across the lot. “Is that your Porsche over there?” His eyes lit up.
A tear rolled down her cheek. She reminded herself to breathe. He looked a little like a boy she had a crush on in middle school. Maybe she should have died at the mansion. Whatever torture Lord Dyson would have put her under, at least she would not have become the monster that she was now.
The pounding of his heart was still hard in her mind, though the beeping sounds stopped. She was using all of her mental strength to pull herself back. “Do you have parents?” she asked, her gaze casting to the ground.
He rolled his eyes and laughed lightly again. “Yeah, I have parents. Do you?” He was leaning against his car looking slightly amused.
“Oh.” Her head lifted suddenly. “Kind of; I guess.” She looked back into his eyes again. Her mind was spinning. Her knees felt weak. “Can I kiss you?” She was surprised at how her breathing increased involuntarily.
He cleared his throat and stood up straight. “Uh, yeah, sure.” He looked around and then smiled ironically.
“Okay,” she whispered with a grin as she blushed.
He walked close to her, looking at her face. His eyes were glazed. “Come here,” he whispered, pulling her up against his chest. His lips met hers.
His body smelled so delicious like pure balsam of a persimmon fruit, perfumed and sweet. The hunger grew. His hand slid down her back. Their pelvises met. His hand was on her ass. He pushed it up against him. His breathing was heavy and sensuous. “You’re a bad girl,” he whispered in her ear.
To her surprise, that excited her more. But then her mind grew cloudy like she was on a drug rush. All she could think about was the rhythm of his blood flow now. So many veins and pathways. He pulled her back against the car. She couldn’t stop now. The way he breathed, the way he moved.
Fangs on the sides of her mouth started to grow. Oh, it felt so good. Her body trembled with anticipation as she ran her tongue along his neck.
Suddenly, she heard a noise in the distance. A car door opening. She pushed the guy away and hid her face. It was one of the truckers getting out. He would see her. Why didn’t she move faster? Maybe she could kill them both. No, she couldn’t get away with this. Oh, hell—she didn’t even want to do such things.
With her head still down in her hands, the fangs formed back into regular teeth. The sensation was painful. Her whole body tightened up like in a cramp. She moaned in agony.
“What’s wrong?” the guy asked in a concerned tone.
Her voice was raspy as she looked up at him “I can’t.”
His eyes searched hers. “Don’t do this,” he almost pleaded, still out of breath.
Shame came over her as she looked at the trucker approaching. She looked back at the guy shaking her head.
“Come here.” He motioned her to him. His hands held his heart.
“No,” her voice shook. At that, she ran back to the Porsche without another word.
She peeled out of the parking lot and headed home. Her thoughts were in war now. If only she had her cell phone. She needed to talk to Drew. Heavy metal music was blaring on the radio as she beat her hands against the steering wheel in rhythm.
If she didn’t do something about this burning in her throat, she would go out of her mind. Maybe an animal, she thought. I could just hunt down a wild creature and suck its blood. The idea seemed repulsive to her. She wanted a man. Everything in her craved human blood.
The Porsche sped up Roseville Mountains now. Violet gripped the wheel tightly. She was grinding her teeth. Her toes curled into the base of her high heel shoes.
The trees rushed by from the forest on the side of the road. She was singing with the music now, trying to hold herself together. It wasn’t helping.
Suddenly, there was a loud crash. The windshield cracked, but the glass didn’t shatter on her. She stopped the car. A doe from the forest had run right in front of the Porsche.
The headlights were shining on it as it lay on the ground. Its chest rose and fell as it was dying. Violet rushed out to help it, but as she got close, she was overcome by the scent of its blood.
As she walked up to it, her nails dug into the sides of her calves. Her teeth itched. She opened her mouth for relief. A pleasure began to grow as the canines stretched into fangs. It felt good like a massage. Again to her surprise, she started to breathe involuntarily and the rhythms sped up. Before she couldn’t stop herself, her fangs sank into the neck of the doe, piercing the tough, thick skin.
Warm, sweet blood filled her mouth. Oh, so delicious. She wanted to savor the taste. Hungrily, she fed.
The body of the animal twitched as she drank. Its eyes grew wide. And then, its head fell to the side as she stroked its soft fur coat.
Chapter Two
It was twilight when Radley and Violet stood over her coffin in the cemetery. Radley bit his lower lip as he stared off into the horizon azure; his head cocked to the side and back. Violet could tell he was thinking about something serious. His eyes were bloodshot and he had dark circles under them. “We have to hurry before Lord
Dyson catches us,” he finally said. “He wants you for himself.”
Violet’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?” Her pulse rate sped up.
“If he finds me with you, he will kill us. We are forbidden to be together.” His eyes cast down.
Her fingers lifted to her lips as her face paled even more than a vampire’s face should. “Isn’t he going to adopt me?” She looked up at him.
He turned his head toward her and their eyes met. “Yes.” It looked to Violet like his eyes had welled up. “He wants you as a second wife.”
“Oh, that can’t be!” At that, her stomach knotted. She felt weak in the knees and she got so light headed that she feared she might pass out.
“There’s no time for discussion,” he said in haste. “We must move fast.” He took her hand. “Don’t worry, sweet Violet.” His head shook slightly side to side. “I would die before that would happen.”
The thought of his death caused her mind to whirl. In desperation, she grasped his shoulder. Her hand chilled and then warmed against his cool t-shirt.
And his hand immediately went to hers. “Get in now.”
“Are you telling me that I have to get inside that?” Violet’s eyes widened in horror. Too many tormenting thoughts rushed through her mind. She felt guilty from the night before. It wasn’t fair to Radley. If he found out about the guy in the parking lot at the rest stop, possibly he wouldn’t want her anymore. And with Lord Dyson after them, maybe that was for the best. As much as she wanted Radley, she didn’t want him to die because of her. A part of her felt like she deserved this burial.
“It’s not as frightening as it seems.” His dark brows furrowed together. “You can be like the Dirts instead.” He scoffed and then scuffed the ground hard with his shoe.
“What do you mean?”
He looked at her sternly, folding his arms over his chest. “Forever with their bat legs that form whenever they sleep, emitting beeping sounds from their bodies with little control over it. The dickheads refused to hibernate in their coffins after the change.” He tousled his dark hair and started to pace, looking out the opening of the new stone wall that surrounded the graveyard.
She watched him, confused, searching his emerald green eyes.
“Like a caterpillar turning into a butterfly.” In irritation, he stopped before her and moved his hand in rhythm, “…you need the incubation time to get wings and to keep those hot legs of yours in shapely form.” He chuckled, but his eyes told her that he was more than worried.
“I guess it would be pretty cool to be able to fly.” She frowned, brushing her hair off her forehead with her fingers. It was apparent she was stalling. “And the bat legs are almost as creepy as the coffin.” Her body shuddered as she wrapped her black shawl over her shoulders. “I said almost.” She thought about Ariel on the morning after her conversion. Her backward bending legs were so gruesome. She didn’t want to deal with that. Since she was turned, she hadn’t fallen asleep yet, so she had not experienced that nightmare.
Radley must have seen the concern on her face because he took her hand and said, “I will always be with you, Violet, if not in body, then in spirit.” He paused for a moment as they both stared down at the coffin. “I won’t leave your grave the entire time you are inside. Do you hear me?”
“What if Lord Dyson comes?”
His nostrils flared. “I’ll take care of him.”
With a sigh, she nodded, but her eyes welled up. Oh, how she didn’t want him to see her cry. She tried to hold her eyes open without blinking so that tears didn’t fall.
“And at the stroke of midnight, I will dig you out.” He took her hand and ran her fingers along his lips.
A warm rush flowed through her body at his touch. She laughed lightly through her tears. She loved his ways. “Didn’t Ariel get to come out of the coffin earlier?” Her voice was a little scratchy from the emotions she was feeling.
He wiped a tear off her cheek with his finger. “Angie buried your sister in the afternoon or was it Jason, the asshole? You need at least four hours and five hours is safer.” He spoke fast. “It’s superior to come out at midnight.” He paused. “A secret I read in Lord Dyson’s diary.” A crooked grin formed on his wickedly handsome face.
“What happens at midnight?” Her curiosity was piqued. Goose bumps rose on her arms as she considered the idea that he had the guts to sneak into Lord Dyson’s private world.
He picked up a stone and chucked it at one of the headstones. “ The writing was confusing and I had to read quickly before I was discovered, but what I gathered is that you will be stronger and faster than most other vampires of your sex and you will gain a psychic gift,” his voice was husky as he glanced at her with half open eyes.
“I could handle that,” She smiled brightly at the possibilities and moved closer to him. His body smelled cool and breezy like forest leaves blowing in the wind. “Have you ever told anyone this?”
“Just you,” he responded in a contradictory voice—soft and rough like the sound of his hands running down the cashmere and lace gown that he had her dress in only minutes ago in the parking lot.
“Okay, I’ll do it.” She gulped. Her hand lifted to her throat.
His dark emerald eyes gleamed with mischief. “Okay, I’ll do it,” he teased, matching the tone of her voice as he moved in closer to her. Then, as if sensing her desires, he slid his hands down her body as he lowered to one knee, looking up at her through his dark lashes. He lifted the coffin lid, his eyes still burning into hers. “Get in, doll face.”
She climbed inside the black coffin. It was cushioned and lined with violet colored satin. “Custom-made,” she joked as she twisted a strand of her long hair.
“Only for you.” With that comment, his body tensed. “I’ll be here waiting. Trust me.”
Those were the words he said just as he closed the lid over her body. She felt the coffin lift into the air and then lower into the ground. It was completely dark. The sounds of dirt hitting the surface overhead were worse than when he lowered the lid.
Now the breathing started again. Her chest rose and fell uncontrollably. Her fingernails dug into the satin at her sides. Her vision was completely black. Just utter darkness all around her. Her heart was pumping rapidly in her chest.
As time progressed, her mind grew with anxiety. Now her breathing grew more rapid. What was happening to her? Even though a vampire doesn’t need air, she felt the human-like sensations of not being able to breathe. It seemed like she was hyperventilating. God, she felt like she was going to die.
As a reflex, she tried to sit up. Her forehead slammed against the inner roof of the coffin. Blood trickled down her face. Snot filled her nostrils which only compounded the breathing problem.
Radley sat beside his guitar with clenched fists on the damp ground as he leaned up against Violet’s headstone. The dew felt cold and bitter in the fog. It was growing late.
Ancient forms rotted in the night all around him while worms and maggots crawled through decaying bodies buried deep in the moist earth. Everything agitated him. The thought of dear Violet in the ground was maddening. And, oh, how he hated Lord Dyson.
He tried to distract himself from worry with empty sermons that seemed to have no meaning at all. What was life? He was a killer and now his Violet was too. If only he had been more careful. If he hadn’t gone back to the cliffs for Clark last summer, the Dirts wouldn’t have come after him and he and his love wouldn’t be vampires.
He wondered where Violet had driven off to last night. Had she already collected some inner demons? He knew the yearning to feed all too well.
With these thoughts tormenting his mind, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet looking for something to write on. There was nothing he could do but wait. It was in Violet’s best interest. On an old receipt, he scrawled lyrics for a new song.
As the night progressed, he took out his guitar and began to play his novel tune. His mind wandered to dark place
s and to places of love. Though he didn’t sing about it, he thought about how hard and round Violet’s nipples looked beneath that black silk gown she wore to the ballroom party. His mind drifted to tasting them in his mouth, sucking them until she moaned. His hands slid up the dress over her firm thighs and parted her legs.
But then all thoughts went askew as his fantasy turned black. Now he couldn’t help but think of the tortures Violet was going through buried under the ground. If only he could suffer for her and take away all her pain. He got up to pace.
At one point he found himself so overcome with concern that he started to dig her out early. But then he knew that the trauma she was experiencing would be worth it in the end. He would just wait. Nausea filled his being. The time was torture.
He knew it was a smothering feeling being trapped, not knowing if you will ever see the light of day again. If nobody was to dig her out, she would go on living forever locked in the darkness, an eternity in hell.
Heavenly Blood (Roseville Vampires, #2) Page 2