Read Online Beautiful Monster-The Exchange by Jeanne Bannon - Free Book Online Page B

shoulder again, but what about him? Didn’t he deserve happiness?
    The big man ripped Alexi’s right arm from his body and
hungrily put the stump to a mouth that seemed almost to unhinge. Boris sucked
and slurped until his face was a mask of crimson. He continued to pull Alexei
apart, limb by limb, until he was reduced to a pile of bones and blood-soaked
rags in a heap on the floor.
    In all their years together, Lev was the responsible
one, always taking care of his brother. Alexei would think nothing of bringing
home beautiful young men or women, sleeping with them, feeding from them and,
more often than not, killing them. Lev was left with the aftermath of his
brother’s messes. This fueled his acceptance of the decision he’d just made,
and he couldn’t deny there was peace knowing there was a place beyond the
material world, at least for him. He was pretty sure Alexei would cease to
exist in every sense of the word. He suddenly remembered why Boris wanted
Alexei’s life so badly in the first place. He cringed and shook it from his
thoughts. It may not be true, he told himself. How could anyone take another’s
appearance?
    He swung his thoughts back to Carly and contemplated the
ways in which he could end his own life. Surprisingly, that thought didn’t
bring a cringe but a worry instead—what if he couldn’t find her? What if all
this was for naught?
    Boris’s eyes met Lev’s as he wiped his face with the
sleeve of his jacket. A long smear of crimson ran across the big man’s face,
making him look like a homicidal clown.
    The impulse to run shot through Lev. He readied himself,
setting his sights on the front door of the dilapidated mansion, which he could
see from where he stood at the entrance to the great room. He didn’t want to
leave, not without the precious thing he’d come for. His soul would surely find
its way back to him, its owner. Wasn’t that the way it worked?
    Then he saw it—a fine, colorless mist began to curl from
the heap of blood-soaked rags, like steam rising from a boiling kettle. It swirled
and spun and made its way over to Lev like a mini tornado. He dared not move
when he felt it begin to bore into the top of his skull. At first he felt
nothing but a little pressure, then his vision began to blur, and his senses
dulled. He saw more curling, churning mists—hundreds, maybe thousands. He
thought back to Boris’s words—that they were teeming with them. The mist-like
souls vanished through the closed window. No doubt let loose into the world,
they would head back to their owners. Lev briefly wondered about that. Where
would they go if the bodies they once lived in were dead? Or turned? He had no
answers or time. His brain seemed to be slowing down, his senses dulling. Lev’s
world went black, and the last thing he saw was the floor rising up to meet
him.
     
    When Lev opened his eyes, his brother stared down at
him. Flat on his back, he was still on the floor of Boris’s great room. A bolt
of adrenaline shot through him when he realized it couldn’t possibly be Alexei.
His arms and legs began to work in an uncoordinated effort to get him out of
danger.
    He heard his brother’s voice say, “Do not be afraid.”
Then a laugh. “I must find a mirror.” Lev watched as Boris peered down at his
hands and slender legs, how he passed a hand through thick black hair, then
felt his face, tracing a finger over an aquiline nose and chiseled jawline.
    A sudden urge to retch came over Lev despite the fact
his stomach was empty and ached for food, real food. A vague remembrance
of how it felt to be hungry for food came to him, yet the sensation seemed new.
He didn’t want blood. In fact, the thought of it was repulsive.
    Boris’s house, though huge, brought on an attack of
claustrophobia. Lev had lost his amplified senses, but still he was well aware
of the lurking danger. He could never go home again. Boris could come for him
any time he wanted. He needed what he didn’t have—time