Page 1 of Night of the Vampire
Chapter 1
Killian
"They'll kill you, Killian. You know that, right?"
My eyes burned. No matter how much I blinked, I couldn't get rid of the grit within them. "They can't kill me. I'm immortal."
Kenya sighed, her chest rising and falling in jerks. Breathing had been a struggle for her the last few nights. I could hear the strain of it on her lungs. Just like I could hear her heart weakening with every laborious beat. It was unusual to see a supernatural creature struggling to survive. Unusual and...terrifying.
A vampire was one of two things at all times. Alive or dead. Never anything in between.
But Kenya's warm, brown skin was ashen from lack of blood because she couldn't hold anything down. Her black hair was plastered to her head instead of sticking out in a riot of curls around her pretty face. It was unnatural for an immortal to look this way. We'd tried everything to get her to feed—animals, reptiles, even some bagged stuff stolen from the hospital.
Well, everything except dragging an unwilling human off of Bourbon street to supply her with blood. But that was against the rules of the ones who'd done this to her. And it was quite apparent we'd already angered them enough.
"Are you willing to bet your life on that? Or the life of this coven?"
I crossed my arms over my chest in a vain attempt to hold in my own pain as I searched her weary face for the tiniest sign of improvement. "No," I told her honestly. "I'm not. But I don't know what else to do." I felt helpless, and it didn't sit well with me. "This is my fault, Kenya. I have to fix it."
She held out her hand to me, her arm shaking with the effort. Quickly, I clasped it within my own and let her draw me to the bed. "It's not your fault."
I knew well from experience that arguing with her wouldn't help anything, so I didn't bother.
But she wasn't fooled by my silence. "Tell me a story." Her pale lips curved into a smile, trying to distract me.
"A story, you say?"
"Yeah. A bedtime story."
"It's barely past midnight."
She raised one eyebrow. "And? I'm tired." Giving my hand a tug, she tried to pull me down to the bed.
Giving up, I sat beside her on the sweat-soaked sheets. The smell wasn't pleasant, but I resisted the urge to wrinkle my nose. Or to breathe, for that matter. For it was no fault of her own. "What would you like to hear, then?"
"I don't care. I just like to hear you talk. You have such a musical accent."
"It's an Irish accent."
She rolled her eyes. "Yes, I know. I love your accent. Or what's left of it. I don't know why you hate it so much."
"I don't hate it." My heart clenched tight as a fist, making me catch my breath. I tried to rub away the ache with my free hand, to no use. "Kenya..." My voice broke, the rest of what I'd been about to say caught in my throat.
"Stop it, Killian. Just stop it. You couldn't have done anything to keep this from happening."
"You're wrong." This I knew down to my very bones. "If I'd only been with you, instead of running off as I did..."
"If you'd been there, it would be you lying here in your own filth instead of me." She leveled her most severe stare at me, and I hitched in a breath, knowing she was right. Our enhanced abilities were nothing when faced with the magic of the witches. "And how would that help our coven?"
I looked around the room, unable to meet her eyes. The hideout Elias had found for us was hidden in the swampland of Lake Pontchartrain just outside of New Orleans. It was suitable, but nowhere near the luxury we were all used to in the Quarter. However, I'd thought it best to bring Kenya out here as she was in no condition to defend herself or even to run if they came after her again.
"Perhaps with me gone they could manage to get themselves out of this bloody swamp and back to our rightful home in the Quarter."
"You know that isn't true. Besides, this is only temporary until we know we won't be beheaded in our sleep. We're already putting ourselves within easy reach just keeping the club going."
"We need to feed. Without the club we'd have to hunt, and with that comes the risk of being hunted ourselves."
"Or we could learn to like gators."
