Read Online Outsider by W. Freedreamer Tinkanesh - Free Book Online Page B

changing her, for
imposing his will upon her, for making her feel so powerless. No
good-byes. She wasn’t dead, she wasn’t alive. If she was to try and
see her family again, they would believe her a ghost, a spirit of
evil. The Stranger had made her at his image. She was now a
creature of the night. A vampire.
    The night he took her away he laughed at her
anger, held her wrists tight while she would try and kick him. He
enjoyed the taste of her blood, the soft warmth of her skin. He
relished in tearing her pale green gown to shreds. But her first
taste of his blood gave him more ecstasy than he had ever dreamed
of. Holding her long, dark, silky hair in the firm grip of his
strong hand, the strength of an ancient vampire, he had pulled her
unwilling mouth to the newly open wound on his chest, over his
heart wildly pulsing with her blood and the sensual details of her
memories. He had pressed her face to his flushed skin, while
listening to the roaring of blood in his ears.
    A rivulet of blood had made its way between
her weakened lips and onto her tongue. She found herself drinking
greedily, greed increasing in intensity, as she was regaining her
strength.
    He moaned, the draining of his blood a
masochistic pleasure. Her sudden physical rejection of him shocked
him. But vampires don’t breathe. Even though, he coughed with
surprise, and laughed. She was so full of promises. His fangs tore
another helping of her jugular. Her body pressed against hard
stone, her fists pounded his back with her new strength. But his
avid feeding was again stealing her memories, her life force,
bringing her back to the edge, the invisible boundary between life
and death, her heart still beating, harder and so weakly all
together.
    When he brought her mouth back to the
bleeding opening of his heart, she didn’t fight. Already too far
gone into the Change to resist its completion. She drank his
memories, not really understanding these images of people now dead,
cities long forgotten, wars and travels in faraway countries. But
she felt the power, its increase over the centuries. And the
intensity of her anger grew to mightier proportions that she would
have ever thought possible.
    With the back of one hand, Jasmine sent the
stranger flying across the yard. The wall cracked under the violent
assault. He laughed again and before she could jump away -and what
a mighty jump it would have been-, he was back on top of her, with
a speed unknown to any living being.
    “You are mine now, forever mine.” His mouth
had twisted into a cruel smile and kissed her angry lips, hard,
deep, unforgiving. “Let us go and feed. It is time for your first
lesson, Fledgling!”
    His laughter had echoed in the night, akin to
the laughter of a mad man escaping into the full moon.
     
    * * * * * * *
     
    With great reluctance, she learned the ropes
of her new existence, the full scope of her powers, the speed and
the strength. She saw the Stranger recoil from the greedy tongues
of the fire, and the weightless fingers of the sunlight. She took
flight with him through moonless nights and acquainted herself with
her natal soil. She discovered the sharpness of her new teeth, the
pleasure of warm blood cascading down her throat. The coppery
variations from sweet to sour, bitter to stale, slimy to bland,
thin to thick. She got used to the overpowering need driving her to
hunt and kill, to seduce with a hypnotic stare and feed on life
itself. She found his coffin rather uncomfortable despite the soft
velvet lining, and rather too crowded with his crushing bulk.
    During the first five years of their intimate
acquaintance, even when out of his sight, she knew he was still
watching her. He indulged her need to visit her children who
thought her just a beautiful and sweet dream.
    She was just a toy, some plaything he would
enjoy bending this way or that way, because it amused him to see
her suffer and anger. Despite her supernatural strength, her
attempts at fighting back were