Page 100 of Cruel Destinies

“Ah, a witch,” he said, his voice carrying a heavy accent. Australian, if I had to guess. “I haven’t run across one of your kind in a while. I hear magic makes the blood exceptionally sweet.”

“Wouldn’t you rather have a shrimp on the barbie?” I snarked, trying to buy myself some time. That was something Australians said, right?

“You look like a shrimp, and I’d be happy to call you Barbie.” His sinister sneer grew wider.

My breath came in hurried puffs, the light playing off the escaping steam. I had to get out, away from this red-eyed creep. I needed to use my magic, but the words escaped me.

I’m going to die.

Something caught the attention of the vampire, whose head snapped in the direction of whatever he’d sensed. I stumbled to my feet, tried to run, but the man cornering me was faster and stronger than I could ever hope to be. He wrapped me in a bear hug after barely a step, pinning my arms to my sides and hampering my frantic breaths.

“Mmm. Fast food,” he said, then clamped down on my neck.

I screamed, flailing against the pain spiking in my neck. This was nothing like Julian’s bite. This was a fucking nightmare!

I kicked and squirmed, but his icy limbs were like rocks, locking me in place. And my terror was just feeding him faster.

As he continued to draw my blood, a silky coolness filled my veins. A kind of lull dampened my mind, and I stopped struggling. I needed to escape, but why? This was nice, luxuriant, intoxicating. A shuddering sigh escaped my lips, and the strong arms hugging me loosened. Why had I thought his smile so different from Julian’s? They were the same—dark, sexy, and with just the right promise of danger.

But the welcome lips at my neck produced a pulling sensation that sparked a memory, a frantic hammering just on the edge of my mind, screaming that this was wrong. It all felt so distant. Still, they shouted a series of sounds at me that my lips ached to produce.

“Wi di sa,” I started in a whisper.

Warmth slid through me, fighting off the ice sloshing through my veins. The draining feeling in my neck slowed, then stopped, but my eyelids were still so heavy.

“Ma’at sheut asfet,” I continued between shallow breaths. “Hekah mehhhhh.” The final word drew out with the last ofmy weak breaths, and the strong arm holding me upright let go.

I fell to the ground, an unwelcome coldness chilling my legs, my hands, my face. My body took to coughing, and I pulled my knees to my chest to try to fight against the pain blossoming there. A stinging in my neck brought a hand to clamp over it, something warm and sticky coating my fingers. I scrunched my face.

I knew I needed to get up, get away, but my limbs were too weak to do more than limply push against the ground.

Reaching a hand into my pocket, I pulled my phone out. With fingers that trembled so badly I could hardly command them, I managed to open my messages and, one pain-staking letter at a time, typed at least what I thought was the word “help.”

My arm collapsed to the ground, my skin scraping against the rough asphalt as it landed. My head rolled to the side, and I just lay there, trying to breathe as my heart weakly and slowly beat in my chest.

I don’t know how long I stayed that way, hoping Caesar would get the message and come find me, hoping my spell would hold the vampire in place long enough for me to be saved, and then thinking nothing at all as my mind and senses dulled.

“Shea. Omigod, Shea!” I heard the familiar timber and felt strong arms lifting me forcing my eyes to open slightly.

Caesar’s handsome face came into blurry view, and I could just barely recognize the deep concern in his eyes as they looked down at me.

“Imma fine,” I mumbled, my head lolling back.

“Shea, hang in there. You’re gonna be okay. Please, be okay.”

I tried to speak, to tell him about the vampire, but the words slurred and muffled against his firm chest. His musky scent was the last thing I took in before darkness claimed me completely.

Chapter 33

Julian

I sat in the chair I’d held onto from the Skye Boarding house, the old, familiar wood of its arms surfacing memories of a happier Christmas over one hundred years before. I stared down at the phone vibrating in my hand. Caesar was calling.

I knew I needed to talk to him about Shea, but I wasn’t prepared for that conversation right now. Especially considering that my Initiate was glued to my hip at the moment.

“Thishasto be the worst Christmas I’ve ever had,” Piper said, pulling me away from my memory indulgence. She sat cross-legged on her mattress in front of the fireplace, her fingers outstretched to gather warmth from the licking flames, her back to me. “No tree, no presents, not evenmusic!”

“I could play you a tune on the piano, if you’d like,” I offered.

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