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Authors: Marie Treanor
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friendship, it might not have been much, but Elizabeth found she was grateful even for that. It would take time to win the others around to her adjusted views about not all vampires being evil. She’d always known that. But it wasn’t impossible.
She smiled her thanks and sauntered out of the wood into the open.
Luk placed one heavy foot in front of the other, blindly following. Somewhere, between the strands of mist that clouded his mind, he was aware it should be him leading those weak fools, that he could outstrip them easily in any contest he cared to. He simply didn’t care to. He didn’t want to be here. He wanted to be . . . wherever he’d been before.
Grief consumed him, drowning his rage, because the memory of before had faded almost entirely and he wanted it back. That was what he wanted, not the existence Grayson kept reminding him of, Luk the Guardian, whatever that was. He wanted peace. Not this hunger, this fury, this unutterable boredom with the present or the reasonless knowledge that this reality was somehow wrong .
Ahead of him, sprinting up the hill, was Grayson, his fledgling, his “child.” Even that act made him uneasy, though he didn’t understand why. He’d just been lonely and Grayson his only companion, his helper who found him human blood. Now they’d found two more “friends,” bestial idiots living like wild beggars in the hills. In fact, the idiots had found Luk and Grayson, as if drawn by some invisible rope over a considerable distance. Luk had had to stop them from killing Grayson at their first encounter, but now they behaved, accepting the leadership of Luk’s “child.”
The idiots, new vampires not so much older than Grayson, had clearly been made by some ignoramus who’d applied neither the correct enchantments nor the right teachings. Luk frowned. He couldn’t actually remember what the right teachings were, nor what they were for, but he knew there were some. Instinct more than knowledge had turned Grayson. Now Luk wondered, vaguely, where he’d learned the enchantments.
He sat down on a convenient rock to think about it. He should teach Grayson, teach all of them. But he couldn’t be bothered. He wanted to feed; he wanted to go back.
“Luk!” Grayson called, using his newly acquired, much louder vampire voice. Luk frowned. Why didn’t he just use telepathy? Because he didn’t know how. How do I know? “Luk!” Grayson yelled again. “Come on!”
Sighing, Luk stood up. He could refuse to go, but if they left him, he couldn’t bear the loneliness. In any case, it didn’t really matter where he was. Did it?
Before he could take a step forward, a scent assailed his nostrils that held him frozen.
Blood. Human blood. Her blood . . .
He didn’t know what that meant, didn’t even know who she was. But the echo of some powerful longing curled inside him, a memory lost in time and sleep. For an instant, he struggled to remember, then gave up because that didn’t matter either. He turned on his heel and walked away from the others, in the direction of the irresistible female scent.
“Luk!” Grayson called after him in frustration. “Where the hell are you going?”
Go on. I’ll catch up. His telepathic instruction clearly took Grayson by as much surprise as it did Luk himself. For an instant, Grayson’s struggle to accept and reply filled Luk’s mind, before Luk shut him out, uncaring whether he was obeyed. The important thing was to find the source of the smell.
Luk began to run, and as his limbs stretched out, he remembered their strength and what they could do. A surge of excitement urged him to speed up, to run around the entire world and never stop. But her scent was close and sweet, and as he leapt down the final fifty feet to land right in front of her, he grew dizzy.
Startled, the woman fell back, her dark hazel eyes huge in her beautiful face. Hair the color of a long-forgotten sunrise whipped against her soft cheeks in the breeze.
She smiled her thanks and sauntered out of the wood into the open.
Luk placed one heavy foot in front of the other, blindly following. Somewhere, between the strands of mist that clouded his mind, he was aware it should be him leading those weak fools, that he could outstrip them easily in any contest he cared to. He simply didn’t care to. He didn’t want to be here. He wanted to be . . . wherever he’d been before.
Grief consumed him, drowning his rage, because the memory of before had faded almost entirely and he wanted it back. That was what he wanted, not the existence Grayson kept reminding him of, Luk the Guardian, whatever that was. He wanted peace. Not this hunger, this fury, this unutterable boredom with the present or the reasonless knowledge that this reality was somehow wrong .
Ahead of him, sprinting up the hill, was Grayson, his fledgling, his “child.” Even that act made him uneasy, though he didn’t understand why. He’d just been lonely and Grayson his only companion, his helper who found him human blood. Now they’d found two more “friends,” bestial idiots living like wild beggars in the hills. In fact, the idiots had found Luk and Grayson, as if drawn by some invisible rope over a considerable distance. Luk had had to stop them from killing Grayson at their first encounter, but now they behaved, accepting the leadership of Luk’s “child.”
The idiots, new vampires not so much older than Grayson, had clearly been made by some ignoramus who’d applied neither the correct enchantments nor the right teachings. Luk frowned. He couldn’t actually remember what the right teachings were, nor what they were for, but he knew there were some. Instinct more than knowledge had turned Grayson. Now Luk wondered, vaguely, where he’d learned the enchantments.
He sat down on a convenient rock to think about it. He should teach Grayson, teach all of them. But he couldn’t be bothered. He wanted to feed; he wanted to go back.
“Luk!” Grayson called, using his newly acquired, much louder vampire voice. Luk frowned. Why didn’t he just use telepathy? Because he didn’t know how. How do I know? “Luk!” Grayson yelled again. “Come on!”
Sighing, Luk stood up. He could refuse to go, but if they left him, he couldn’t bear the loneliness. In any case, it didn’t really matter where he was. Did it?
Before he could take a step forward, a scent assailed his nostrils that held him frozen.
Blood. Human blood. Her blood . . .
He didn’t know what that meant, didn’t even know who she was. But the echo of some powerful longing curled inside him, a memory lost in time and sleep. For an instant, he struggled to remember, then gave up because that didn’t matter either. He turned on his heel and walked away from the others, in the direction of the irresistible female scent.
“Luk!” Grayson called after him in frustration. “Where the hell are you going?”
Go on. I’ll catch up. His telepathic instruction clearly took Grayson by as much surprise as it did Luk himself. For an instant, Grayson’s struggle to accept and reply filled Luk’s mind, before Luk shut him out, uncaring whether he was obeyed. The important thing was to find the source of the smell.
Luk began to run, and as his limbs stretched out, he remembered their strength and what they could do. A surge of excitement urged him to speed up, to run around the entire world and never stop. But her scent was close and sweet, and as he leapt down the final fifty feet to land right in front of her, he grew dizzy.
Startled, the woman fell back, her dark hazel eyes huge in her beautiful face. Hair the color of a long-forgotten sunrise whipped against her soft cheeks in the breeze.
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