Page 22 of Dark Flame
Chase.
Without having been changed, I’ll beat her to the door.
But now, I’m fuckingpissed.While I have no desire to alter my plans, the primal side of me is demanding to end it altogether—to end her life. She thought she could win, and I’ll prove to her every way she will not.
Hunt.
I take a regular step before pushing myself down the hall, my speed making me a blur until passing her and stopping at the front door, only feet from where she’s running to.
She gasps, nearly slamming into me, but I snap a grip around her neck and squeeze, spinning us both to shove her against the doors. Fear radiates from her, the scent almost as pleasing as that blood of hers. I could very well drown in both. She scratches at my hands while her legs kick; both motions are useless.
“Hellion, you’ve made a big fucking mistake.”
Snarling, I press close to her. She’s soft, softer than any woman I’ve been with since my human life. Vampire women are different…colder, vicious. Miss Sinclair is probably all hearts and flowers. Good and Light, masking the very grimness reflecting in her expression—the truth behind her.
“Wha…?” She trails off, scanning me, pausing on my fangs, erect in their rage and hunger. “It didn’t work,” she whispers, going limp with defeat. “It should have.”
I pinch on the spot that’ll cut off her airways, careful not to make it fatal. “Seems you’ve overestimated yourself.”
“Why didn’t it work?” She claws at my hands.
I don’t answer, my mind and body not exactly equipped to handle a conversation meant to depict the rationality of how the curse within her blood functions.
“Your life might be dependent on the fact it didn’t, so be thankful. Now, give me one reason I shouldn’t end your life like you tried with mine.”
I squeeze tighter, earning a gasp but no plea. Shame. I want to hear her beg for her life. Begmefor something only I can give her. Show me a bit more of that fighting spirit that drove her to this ridiculous plan.
Her ancestors all died too quickly. A few meager attempts with magick to beat me, but in the end, I still got them. This one is the only one putting up a halfway decent fight, and another side of me enjoys it. The primal side is demanding I let her go so she can continue fighting, making a game out of her freedom, all while I play with my prey.
Hunt.
Chase.
Feed.
Yes, that’s what I’ll do. Why strangle her to death when I can set her free on my land and hunt? Maybe I’ll take days to track her, purposely letting her live every second in terror that at any moment, any turn, any tree, I could be right there. The unknown will kill her well before I do.
The chase, the hunt…it’ll do.
She scratches at my hand, her nails doing nothing to my hardened skin. “You can’t kill me. You need me.”
“Need?”I roll the word around in my mouth, its flavour sour and unwanted. “Believe me, I need nothing from the Sinclairs. You were a passing opportunity and nothing more. Don’t believe your life has more value to it.”
“Fine.” Her eyes flutter shut with her concession, and for that I nearly let her go. My grip loosens, confused she’s giving up. After all that, she’s decided not to fight?
The part of me that wants to dominate and prove she’s prey to my predator is upset. The game hasn’t gone on nearly long enough, leaving my cravings unsatisfied.
“Kill me then,” she continues, her voice both soft and hard at the same time. “Death will be better than this miserable existence.”
Hunt.
Chase.
Kill.
…Protect.
The red covering my eyes fades ever so slightly into a dark pink. A bit of lucidity returns, and my hand loosens more.
