She heard the screams. The heart-wrenching yells. The pleas.
‘Spare me, I beg you. I’ll serve you!’
And the horrifying crushing sound of bone breaking.
Then the smell. Blood. So much blood flowing.
Chloe heard suctioning, gulping, and then an appreciative moan.
She was going to be sick.
After killing and draining she didn’t know how many of her pursuants, Eirikr walked back down to the cave.
Chloe couldn’t believe her eyes.
The dry corpse was gone, replaced by a man so handsome he put Levi to shame. The portrait in the huntsmen’s quarters in London hadn’t done him justice. Lean, with a muscular, well-built frame. The rag on his hips looked like the remnants of a kilt that once had some color. There was mud and blood on his golden skin, which she felt looked very natural and appropriate on a predator.
Eirikr looked like her brother Tom. He even had the same hair as the rest of her family—dark at the roots and then unnaturally light an inch later.
No one would have doubted that they were family. A family of crazy, beautiful creatures that didn’t belong to this world.
‘Better, don’t you think?’
She had no words.
Eirikr brought his wrist to his lip and bit down, drawing blood. At least she thought it was blood. But it was black—dark as night.
She looked up to his eyes as he reached out, close to her mouth.
Nothing had ever smelled as appetizing. Not even candy. She wanted that blood like she wanted her next breath.
But there was something else she wanted more.
‘I can’t…’
She closed her eyes, the smell of his blood making her feel dizzy, mindless. Uncontrollable.
‘I can’t be a monster,’ she finished.
She couldn’t become her father. Or end up locked in a cage like Eirikr because everyone was afraid of her. Better for her to leave this world now, when everyone could recall her with fondness, than to linger as a thing from their nightmares.
Eirikr tilted his head.
‘Then who will? I have no way out of here, and your brother is no leader. Who will stand when the world needs justice?”
She shook her head, too weak to argue. Plenty of other people were more suited to the task. Tris, Jack, and the rest of the huntsmen. Levi, who could move like lightning and command the likes of Cat and Mikar. Anyone.
“Chloe, you were born to lead our house into the light. Because you have compassion, heart, and strength. Without you, our kind will rise again. There will be another Age of Blood, and none to stop our rule. The six clans will systematically destroy all threats—the witches, the huntsmen, anyone with a good heart, while they’re scattered. You will unite them. You can rule all.’
She snorted. That certainly was another level of flattery.
‘Right.’
Just one word, but it dripped with the perfect amount of sarcasm.
This time, Eirikr’s smile was devastatingly beautiful.
‘Prove me wrong, then. Unless you’re a coward. Which would be unseemly. My house has never fathered any spineless wenches.’
Anger. He was trying to provoke her, and it was working, awakening her mind a bit.
She was no coward. She was just…
Tired. So very tired.
‘As we debate, one of your friends is dying. There is no stopping it, but how many will follow? Another one has been bitten by a feral. Will you wallow in self-pity at my feet when the blood in our veins is the only cure?’
Her eyes widened.
‘Who…where—’ As difficult as it was, she closed her mouth to swallow some saliva before forcing out a complete sentence. “I thought there was no cure?”
Levi had said a feral’s bite was contagious and impossible to reverse.
“There wasn’t. Not with me stuck in here and your mortal blood still running through your veins.”
She was confused, and to her relief, Eirikr didn’t wait for her to ask questions before explaining, “I do not drink human blood. From the very beginning, my everything recoiled against it, and for a time, I drained whatever game I could hunt in the woods—bears, deer, even rats. But as Ariadne’s sickness spread through the lands, I found another food source.” His lip curled over his teeth. He had two elongated canines on each side.
Then she understood. He drank vampire blood, not human blood.
And he wasn’t crazy.
“My house has evolved to survive on vampire blood without giving in to the frenzy that renders the ferals mindless. Those two thousand years of evolution course through your veins. A few drops of your blood would be enough to reverse the process.”
Then Eirikr extended his arm again. His dark blood still marred his skin, but the wound he’d inflicted on himself had long been healed.
‘Drink, little daughter. Drink and rise. For their sake, if not yours.’
She wrapped her fingers around his forearm. Her eyes focused on the veins. The blood moved faster at each of Eirikr’s slow heartbeats.
She felt a strange numbing pain around her gums and tasted iron in her mouth. Her blood. Sweeter than she remembered. Unfamiliar.
Chloe opened her mouth wide to accommodate her new fangs, then closed it around her ancestor’s wrist, trying to aim for the veins.
And then she drank.
And drank, and drank again.
She’d never been one to get drunk, because no cocktail had ever been so succulent, heady, addictive. She moaned in delight, holding on to Eirikr’s arm with her second hand.
He laughed.
“Try not to drain me, will you? It has been long since I’ve enjoyed the benefits of having a decent amount of blood in my system.”
Oh. Right.
Chloe let go of his arm. Right. She was drinking from a person, not a martini glass with a little umbrella.
“Sorry?”
He shrugged off her apology.
“How do you feel?”
She paused, having failed to notice any difference, but now that he pointed it out, she was…good.
Great.
The very notion of having been exhausted, spent, and ready to give up moments ago confused her.
She got to her feet, wondering why she’d been on her knees at all.
How did she feel?
Restless. Unfocused. Chaotic.
But above all…
“Angry,” she replied.
Eirikr grinned.
“Good.”
