Page 5 of Nearly Dead

I feel something wet on my face and realize I’m crying.But when I touch my cheek, my fingers come away red.

“Blood will help.It will strengthen the vampire side.”Costin sits on the edge of the bed and pulls back his sleeve.“Take mine.It will help fight the werewolf infection.”

He offers his wrist.The gesture isn’t lost on me, even with the intense hunger.

“No,” I try to say, but my body betrays me.I can hear his blood pumping, and the smell of ancient power calls to me.I’m moving before I can stop myself, grabbing his arm with a strength that should be impossible.He falls back under my weight, tumbling off the bed and onto the floor.We land with an ugly thud, but I don’t care.

His skin gives way easily beneath my new fangs.The taste of him hits me like a drug, pure electricity flowing into my mouth.Primal energy enters my system, and with it comes clarity.And rage.

I’m no longer content with his arm, and I attack like a feral animal.My fangs sink into his neck, and I feel him tense beneath me as I tear at his flesh.He’s stronger than me—he’s always been stronger—but he doesn’t fight back as I drink deeply.

The monster inside of me takes over.It’s not just a vampire or a wolf, but a terrifying combination of both.I want to consume him, to claim him, to tear him apart until I devour every piece, bones and all.

“Tamara,” Costin gasps, and I feel his hands on my shoulders, no longer gentle, as his sharp nails bite into my skin.“Tamara, stop.”

I don’t want to stop.I can’t stop.The blood is all that matters.

His grip tightens, and he rips me off him.Suddenly, I’m flying across the room, slamming into the wall with enough force to crack the plaster.I land in a crouch, a snarl ripping from my throat, my body coiled and ready to spring.

The rage feels almost as good as the new blood pumping through my body.

Astrid stands in the doorway, her eyes wide with surprise.Behind her, Anthony’s familiar face contorts with an emotion I can’t name.

But it’s Costin who pulls my gaze.Blood—my blood, his blood, I can’t tell anymore—stains his throat and shirt.The wounds I’ve made ooze.He’s not healing.

“What have you done?”Anthony whispers in horror.

I look down at my hands.Claws extend from my fingertips, and dark fur has sprouted along my forearms.I feel the sharp points of fangs pressing against my lips.

“What have you made me?”I ask, my voice a distorted growl that doesn’t sound real.

No one answers.No one has to.

Their eyes say it all.

I’m a monster.

And I’m still hungry.

I launch at Astrid, fury in my veins.She’s always made me feel like the family shame.Her husband’s mortal mistake.

“Tamara,” Anthony shouts, raising his hand.Blinding light slams into me.“Stop!”

ChapterTwo

I jerk awake, which is a stupid way to describe how I wake up because it implies I can actually move.I can’t.Cold metal clamps bite into my wrists and ankles.I’m chained to a bed like a horror movie cliché about to be exorcized of demons, which would be funny if it wasn’t so damn tragic.The kind of demon I carry now can’t be expelled.

“You’re awake,” Anthony says from somewhere to my right.

I turn my head.My brother stands in the corner of the room, far from the bed.His hands are raised with a faint shimmer of magic dancing between his fingers.He’s defensive.Ready to strike.

Anthony is afraid of me.

I can’t say I blame him.I’ve calmed a little, but there is that nagging feeling of rage still lingering inside me.

“Where’s Costin?”My voice sounds raw.The taste of his blood is still metallic and sweet in my mouth.I run my tongue over my teeth, relieved to find them normal again.But how long will that last?

“Recovering,” Anthony says, not moving any closer.“You did quite a number on him.”

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