Page 54 of Eternal Craving

I leaped inside the coffin, lay down and slid back the stone. A sudden drop in temperature helped me to focus. Spitting up a sticky mass of cobwebs, I hacked the rest out, cringing at the thought of being trapped. Leaning over, I heaved up stale blood and it trickled along the edge of the coffin. I wiped my mouth with my sleeve.

The dust settled. It was so uncomfortable that I considered climbing out, but the incessant stinging along my skin persuaded me otherwise. I could see even though there was no light. I tried to focus and struggled to find reason.

Trembling, I replayed the day’s events.

Miguel had once told me that shock could trick the mind into believing all sorts of things. Thoughts of seeing him and the boys again, and holding Annabelle, offered me some comfort.

By the time I awoke, things would be normal again – I would feel normal again.

I begged for sleep to find me.

Chapter Twenty-Three

I chastised myself for delaying my journey.

Darkness welcomed me when I left the mausoleum. Staring back at the tomb, I marveled at how I could have slept there.

Alicia would have reached Miranda’s by now. I hated the thought of telling her about Salvador and, even worse, I’d failed her by not going back for her son.

I craved meat, yet the thought of eating anything sickened me. I had an uncontrollable urge to suckle, draw from an animal’s veins.

The pathway to madness…my mind wanted to deny reality as I struggled for clues to explain what had happened over the last few hours.

Sunaria had nestled into my neck and suckled, drinking my blood – and I realized that I’d seen something similar happen to Roelle. He’d been fine until daylight came.

What the fuck is going on?

Rumors of nightwalkers came to mind. Creatures that stalked the night. Staff had retold tales about the once disappeared who’d staggered back into town with crazedexpressions and fang marks. But surely this was fanciful talk from uneducated peasants.

The shock of seeing Salvador’s murder had sent me over the edge. Exhaustion had fractured my mind, but I walked onward with purpose, finally lingering outside a deserted house.

A sensation like that of a hot orb boring through my eyes persuaded me to scramble inside the building. Rubbing my eyes, I prayed that the damage wasn’t permanent. The crawling flesh sensation also subsided and then my vision returned.

I would try again tomorrow. I felt weary from my journey, but it wasn’t the usual sort of fatigue.

This is different.

Finding the darkness inadequate, I descended into the basement and caught a whiff of a human presence. The entwined couple slept soundly in the corner. With a sense of excitement – my reaction uncharacteristic – I knelt beside them, watching their chests rise and fall. Their pink flesh offered up a bright illumination, and this corporeal desire to embrace them both confounded me. Unable to resist the urge, I moved closer to them.

The man stirred.

The need to question my behavior faded as the sensation of my tongue tracing his neck brought a wave of exhilaration. I marveled at how easy it was to pierce his skin, suckle his blood.

My mind followed him down corridors, through golden wheat fields and into his lovers’ beds. His memories rolled on and through his eyes, his world unfolded. I lived his life, seeing the men he’d seduced, women he’d taken regardless of their consent, children he’d fathered and then denied were his own, fights he’d won and lost, and the lives he’d torn apart.

I drew back as the woman suddenly jerked awake and glanced over at her lover – and then stared wide-eyed at me. Herscreams shocked me back into action. I scooted toward the wall, eyeing the vein on her neck, so difficult to resist.

My thumb grazed along my upper teeth, and I flinched when I touched the sharp point of what felt like a fang.

I found my voice and rasped out, “Run.”

The woman glanced back at her lifeless lover.

“Run!”

My fingernails dug into the dirt as I tried to resist chasing after her as she stumbled over to the stairs. Seconds later I had overtaken her, ignoring her screams as I drained her of blood and life.

I moved her body to lay beside her dead lover and then I stripped the dead man, replacing my blood-soaked shirt. His trousers were a little short, but they’d do. I reassured myself that this would never happen again. Whatever disease plagued me, if I could just make it home, I knew I’d recover. Once reunited with my family, I’d find a way to overcome this hysteria…this shame.