Read Online Amanda Ashley by Deeper Than the Night - Free Book Online

am?”
    â€œI don’t know.”
    â€œYou know.”
    I shook my head. “It’s not possible.”
    â€œWe are known by many names.
Vrykalakes, blutsauger, upiry. Vampyr, Vampyre.
” She smiled. “Vampire, Alesandro, that is what I am. That is what you are.”
    â€œNo . . .” I stared at her, the embodiment of every nightmare I had ever known, every fear that had tormented me. Vampire. The undead.
    â€œGo outside,” she said curtly. “Empty yourself of bodily fluids. Then come back to me.”
    I did as I was told. Numb to everything around me, I did as I was told. I knew it was winter, that the air was cold, but I felt nothing at all.
    She was sitting on the edge of the bed when I returned. “When you wake tomorrow, the transformation will be complete.” Rising, she glanced at the window. “It is almost dawn.”
    I followed her gaze. The window was covered with a heavy green damask drape that would have kept out the light of the brightest day. How, I wondered, how did she know dawn was approaching?
    â€œYou may spend the day here, with me,” she said. “Tomorrow you must find your own place to rest.” She made a sound of disgust when I said nothing, only continued to stand there, staring at her. “Come along,” she said, and taking me by the hand, she led me through a narrow door, up a short flight of stairs, into a small windowless room that was empty save for an ornate casket set upon a raised platform.
    Dropping my hand, she climbed the stairs of the platform and lifted the lid, revealing a lining of deep green satin.
    And then she held out her hand. “Come, Alesandro. The dawn approaches.”
    I stared at her hand in horror. “No.”
    â€œWhat’s the matter?” she asked disdainfully. “Surely you’re not afraid of this box?”
    I shook my head, too ashamed to tell her it wasn’t the coffin I feared, though I must confess I was loathe to climb into it. What I feared was the darkness inside.
    â€œDo as you wish,” she said, her voice tinged with disgust.
    Turning her back to me, she climbed into the casket, her movements as graceful as a reed bending in the wind.
    I stood there for a long while, and then, without knowing how or why, I knew the sun had come up. I felt myself growing heavy, lethargic. The feeling, so unfamiliar, frightened me, and I ran up the stairs and hurled myself into the casket. Lilith was lying on her side to make room for me. She smiled smugly, and then she lowered the lid on the casket, shutting us in darkness.
    A hoarse cry of primal fear rose in my throat, and then I was dragged down into a deep black void, all conscious thought swept away.
    When I awoke the following night, she was gone. I lay there for a moment, my body wracked with pain such as I had never felt before. And then, realizing where I was, I bolted out of the coffin and ran down the stairs to her bedroom.
    She was sitting on a velvet-covered bench, brushing her hair. I realized then that there were no mirrors anywhere in the house.
    â€œAwake at last?” she asked. “I had ratherthought you’d be an early riser, being a farmer and all.”
    â€œLilith, help me.”
    â€œWhat’s wrong?”
    â€œI hurt.” I wrapped my arms around my stomach, certain I was dying, only then remembering that I could not die.
    â€œIt’s nothing to be concerned about,” she remarked. “It will pass after you’ve fed.”
    My gaze darted toward the bed as I remembered the boy she had killed the night before. She had drained his life. That was how she took sustenance. The thought filled me with revulsion, and then, to my horror, I felt my teeth grow long at the thought of the boy’s blood on my tongue.
    â€œNo.” I backed away from her. “I can’t. I won’t.”
    â€œYou can,” she said coldly. “You will.”
    â€œNo,