White Witch, Black Curse

The bed dipped as he landed on it, and I rolled, finding myself farther from the door. I was going the wrong way. I had to get our positions reversed. I had to make a run for it.

His eyes glinted as he reached out, and with a soft exhalation, he said, "Ivy's bitten you, hasn't she? Maybe we can have some fun after all."

My face lost its expression, and I forced my hand from creeping up to hide my neck.

"Got a taste for vampires?" he mocked, and I made the mistake of taking a deep breath. Vampire incense tinged with the scent of cement filled me, lighting a path from my neck to my groin.

"Oh shit," I moaned, and my back hit the wall. Kisten lay dead at my feet, and I had a sexual high running through me, twisting, perverting my fear into pleasure. No wonder Ivy was screwed up. "Get the hell away from me," I panted.

The vampire had followed me, and he touched my shoulder, making my knees almost give way. "Soon you'll be begging me to sleep with you," he promised in a soft whisper.

Tears filled my eyes, and he kissed them away, his fingers smelling of damp cement as my tears moistened the dust from his fingers. I brought my hand up to claw at his eyes, and I gasped when he crushed them. "Stop," I said, begging him. "Please stop."

His wide hand splayed across my face, he forced my jaw open. One finger rubbing my neck, he slipped a dust-tasting finger in my mouth, feeling inside me.

"Don't," I panted, even as I writhed in his grip, and he forced his mouth to mine now that he knew I wasn't going to bite off his tongue. His rough hand pressed fully into my neck, and he gave a hard rub. Ecstasy surged. It wasn't him. It was like hitting a reflex, and I hated myself for the lust that hit me even as I struggled to get away, struggled to take a breath that wasn't full of him. To just get away!

I was crying, and he pulled away with my lip between his teeth. The sharp spike of pain through my lip was like an electric shock. He probably expected me to swoon at his feet, but it had the opposite effect.

Fear overrode the breath-stealing surge, and I lashed out. My nails raked his eyes. He swore and stumbled back. He had bitten me. God, he had bitten me!

Hand over my mouth, I ran for the door.

"I'm not done yet!" the vampire bellowed, and I lunged down the narrow hall. Falling into the living room, I ran for the door to the galley and my freedom. I tried to turn the handle, but my wrist wouldn't work, still numb from where he had forced my gun from me. The fingers on my other hand were purple and unresponsive.

Sobbing, I kicked at the door. Pain stabbed through my ankle, but I aimed again with a sidekick. I screamed as it hit, and this time the doorjamb splintered.

My numb fingers scrabbled for the door, and I shrieked when a heavy hand jerked me from the broken wood. I struggled for consciousness as my head hit the far wall, and I fell.

"I said, I'm not done yet," the vampire said as he dragged me back to the bedroom by my hair. Fighting like a mad thing, I tried to grab the door to the bathroom as we passed, but he gave a yank and my fingers scraped the carpet until they burned. He didn't let go of my hair until he jerked me up by the arm and threw me on the bed. I bounced off before I could find my balance, and I hit the floor on the far side, between the bed and the wall. My eyes went to Kisten, and my panic paused. He was gone. The floor was empty.

Shaking, I peered over the bed to find my love standing calmly at the window, staring at the night. "It's beautiful," he said softly, and my heart broke to hear his familiar voice coming from the mouth of a stranger. He was dead. Kisten was an undead. "I can see everything, hear everything. Even the mosquitoes over the water," he added in wonder, and he turned.

My chest clenched at the familiar smile, but the eyes behind it had lost something. If he could hear mosquitoes, then he had heard me scream and had done nothing. His blue eyes were without recognition, a confused, beautiful angel. He didn't know me.

And my tears wouldn't stop.

The vampire who had killed him had an irate expression, almost bothered. "You need to leave," he said brusquely. "You're worthless now. Used up. Get out."

One by one the tears fell, and I stood, not expecting any help from Kisten.

"I know you," Kisten said suddenly, and his eyes lit with remembrance. My bruised hands clasped at my chest, and I closed my eyes, weeping. They flashed open when his soft touch on my chin came too soon for him to have crossed the room, but there he was, his head cocked as he puzzled it through.

"I loved you," he said, with the wonder of the sun's first rising, and I caught back a sob.

"I love you, too," I whispered, dying inside. Ivy was right. This was hell.