Page 121 of Undying
A few people choke on their snorts at my snarky words, which only enrages Julius. Not waiting for a countdown, the vampire attacks, and I barely throw myself out of the way in time. I allow the darkness inside me to rise to the surface, unleashing the monster that has an insatiable hunger for blood and death.
For the next five minutes, we exchange blows, each of us healing almost instantly. Pain registers in the back of my mind, but I’m so used to feeling discomfort that I welcome it like an old friend.
While I pummel him relentlessly, his blows are tempered to reduce damage—can’t have him permanently disfiguring the product. He doesn’t try to defend himself. Every time I draw near enough to strike, he uses the time to inflict as much pain as possible.
When I land a particularly hard blow to his stomach, my claws almost eviscerate him. Blood soaks through his shirt, the bleeding heavier, but the fucker still heals before I can get close and strike a mortal wound.
The dickhead is just too old.
The only way to take him down is to take his heart or his head, and I worry that I’m not fast enough to do the job without taking a killing blow in return.
I need to come up with some sort of plan, or I’m going to be fucked.
A nasty blow crumbles the side of my chest, my ribs cracking under the strain, and I tumble through the air, landing five feet away with a heavy thump. Even stunned, I don’t stay in place and roll to the side, barely miss getting a boot stomped on my face. I reach up, my black nails easily slicing through the delicate flesh of his thigh, and he curses viciously, delivering a wicked blow to the side of my head that has my ears ringing and giving him time to beat a hasty retreat.
I drag myself to my feet, my bones aching as they stitch together. Unfortunately, bones take a little longer to mend and more energy. I twist my neck from side to side, smiling when I notice that it’s taking Julius longer to heal as well, blood liberally coating the inside of his thigh.
That’s when I realize blood is the key.
If I can bleed him dry, it will weaken him. With that plan in mind, I press him relentlessly, but he’s a crafty bastard and guesses my game quickly and does the same. He lands a harsh kick that snaps my knee, and I grit my teeth at the pain. As I hobble backward, he follows with a manic smile and licks my blood off his claws.
“When you’re my whore and sucking my cock, I wonder if I should keep your mates alive so they can watch. Would you like that?” His taunts hit their mark, and I can’t hold back my growl. “It would be a shame to kill them when they will obey my every command beautifully if it means I spare you some degradation.”
He shoots forward with a burst of speed, his claws catching me in the ribs when I don’t move out of the way fast enough, and blood drips down my side. I retaliate by slashing out, but instead of taking out his throat like I intended, my claws only graze his shoulder.
Fuck…I’m slowing down.
“Tell me, will it break you to see them surrender to me?” Julius taunts, and my darkness stirs restlessly at the threat to our mates.
“Maybe I’ll keep them alive just to keep you pliable. You would obey me to spare them, wouldn’t you?” His grin stretches across his face, his posture becoming more relaxed. “Your mates make you weak.”
My nails lengthen even more, and venom fills my mouth, the taste almost sour in its potency. We clash once more, and I burrow my claws into his flesh, ripping my them free when I pull away. He bellows in pain, but the strike has cost me. Before I can retreat, his own claws rake down my spine, peeling flesh from my back.
I don’t have to look to know that I’m bleeding freely now.
My body struggles to heal, but I smile when I notice the chunks missing from Julius’ hip and side. It’s not a killing blow, but it’s got to hurt like a bitch. Something malevolent shimmers in his eyes, a hint of uncertainty when he realizes he might not win, and my grin widens.
Then he smiles at me in a way that has my confidence fading. He straightens and walks toward me casually, his arms out from his sides. “Most say dhampyr have no weakness, but you’re also a fledgling, and all fledglings have one.”
He lifts a hand to his neck, his claws sinking into his own throat, then he slowly slices the razor-sharp edges across his own jugular. “Bloodlust.”
Blood spills down his neck in a dark wave, the scent of it polluting the air. And even though my mind knows better, hunger tears through me. I fight it for a moment, but the thirst is painful, each swallow like razor blades cutting up my insides.
I want to think I can control it, that I could drain him dry, but the rational part of my mind warns of the danger. If I don’t kill him quickly, we’ll be bound together.
Would my darkness even allow me to kill him if that happened?
Well, fuck.
The uncertainty has me hesitating, but the darkness urges me forward, asking me to trust it.
Promising me control.
But I fear that I’m being seduced by a lie.
The broken female steps out of the building and into the sunlight, distracting me from my dilemma. It only takes a few steps before her skin starts to smoke, but she doesn’t stop, doesn’t relent. She resolutely puts one step in front of the other, never once taking her eyes off Julius. Her gown flows around her almost ethereally. I want to protect her, but I fear it’s much too late.
She is too broken to live in this dark world.
