Page 59 of Undying
No breathing.
No snores.
No twitching in his sleep.
It’s only then that I feel the strange energy emanating from his chest, and I nearly collapse on top of him in relief, suddenly feeling foolish.
Many of the vampires that lived in the mansion before I killed them fell into a death-like sleep. He said he was a young vampire, so it makes sense. Only a few vampires remain awake during the day, most of them sluggish and slow.
Though many locked themselves away during the day, it didn’t save them in the end.
I don’t even question why I’m still awake.
I’ve felt sleep tug at me during the day, but I’ve always been able to resist it. Not that I ventured out much. The vampires always had their human servants hunting me.
And as much as I want to deny it, I’m not as strong during the daylight hours.
I untangle myself from Milo, then linger by his side, hesitant to leave him for fear that someone might harm him while he sleeps. The urge to protect him sweeps through me, and I rise to my feet, unable to fight the need to secure the house.
Despite all logic and self-preservation instincts, I feel connected to the guys in some way.
Almost like they’re mine to protect.
And I’m unable to resist the thrill that goes through me at the thought.
Feeling a little ridiculous, I gather the blanket from the bed and tuck it around his still form. I brush my lips lightly over his forehead, then I shoot to my feet and leave without a backward glance.
If I look back, I fear I won’t have the strength to leave.
I lock the door behind me, frowning when it’s just a simple human lock.
It offers no protection whatsoever against any real threat.
I make a mental note to have that fixed at the first opportunity.
A noise downstairs distracts me from the list of repairs, and my fangs instantly snap down. My heartbeat slows, barely beating as the darkness in me rises, and I’m unable to resist the need to hunt.
Anyone who thinks to harm those who are mine will die.
ChapterEighteen
JOLIE
Iquickly head down the hallway, pausing outside a door when I hear slight breathing coming from the room beyond. I press closer, ready to break it down, when an image of the two cats we rescued pops into my mind.
I slowly release my grip on the doorknob and back away.
With light feet, I ease down the main staircase. I’m so used to stalking my prey that I don’t even make a whisper of sound as I move.
I lift my nose in the air, unable to scent anything but Stanton and the wolves.
That doesn’t mean someone else isn’t in the house.
I follow the sounds toward my prey.
Castle moves around the kitchen, putting away boxes of supplies, and I skip past without bothering him. I linger by the study door, peering through the cracks to see Stanton lying perfectly still on the couch. It takes all my control not to creep across the floor to check if he’s still alive. I send out my senses, the shadows thickening as my darkness fills the room. It’s only when I feel the same ghost-like energy resonating in his chest that I carefully retreat.
It’s different from Milo.
