Read Online Real Vampires Don't Sparkle by Amy Fecteau - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Amy Fecteau
Ads: Link
dark hair stand out in tiny spikes.
“Hunters,” he said. “Like to hunt.”
“Profound,” said Matheus. “How long did it take you to come up with that one?”
“They like to hunt us. It’s a game. They release us somewhere away from civilians and try to catch us. If they capture us within three days, they win. If not, we do.”
“That’s twisted.” A chill curled in Matheus’ gut. He stared at Quin. “They’re just going to…like we’re animals?”
“That is the plan.” Quin seemed unconcerned.
Matheus wondered how many times the roles had been reversed, with Quin playing the part of prey instead of predator. In the back of his mind, the thought occurred to him that the hunters only did what Quin did to humans. He argued with himself that Quin only hunted to survive, but Matheus had the feeling the Quin enjoyed a good chase.
“Why? Why are you doing this? Don’t tell me you couldn’t escape. I saw what was left of that man in the alley. I’ve seen you move.”
“I want something from the hunters.”
“What?” Matheus leaned forward. The van went over three big bumps in a row, then slowed down to nearly a crawl.
Too late
, Matheus thought. He guessed the van’s next stop would be at a mechanic’s for a front-end alignment and some new struts. He might not be a country boy, but he knew better than to go speeding down a dirt road.
“That’s not your problem,” said Quin.
“Right. I’m not trapped in a van about to be the subject of some undead safari. This has nothing to do with me.”
“I tried to keep you out of it.”
“What the hell was I supposed to do?” Matheus shouted. “You were hurt. You don’t tell me anything. Maybe if I knew my head was going to go all spaz-tastic every time you got a paper cut, I wouldn’t have felt the need to go chasing after you.”
“How am I supposed to tell you things when you don’t want to listen?” Quin asked.
“I listen!”
“No, you don’t. You argue and you dig your heels in. You don’t want to think about what you are. You aren’t human anymore. You can’t go back.”
“You’re full of shit.”
Matheus’ shoulders hit the floor as Quin pinned him down. He cried out and shoved at Quin, but he might as well have tried to push a granite boulder up a hill. Quin pressed his sprained wrist across Matheus’ throat with a force that must have been agony, his knees digging into Matheus’ sides. Matheus kicked, the heels of his sneakers squeaking over the metal floor.
With his free hand, Quin pried Matheus’ mouth open.
“This is what you are now,” he said, triggering Matheus’ fangs. “Death and blood and the night. Deal with it.”
“I can’t!” Matheus’ tongue slipped around Quin’s fingers, turning his words into mush. He shook, still trying to push at Quin’s shoulders.
“You aren’t even trying.” Quin removed his fingers and braced his hand on the floor next to Matheus’ head.
“I can’t!” Matheus repeated. “I’m a nightmare!” The ragged edges of fear broke through his voice, clinging wet and sticky to his words.
“Matheus,” Quin began. He peered down at him, a strange expression on his face. He sat up, letting Matheus wiggle free.
“How? How am I supposed to…?” Matheus closed his eyes, unable to bear Quin staring at him. He wrapped his arms around his chest, as the memories he fought to suppress clamored for his attention. “I left for a reason,” he said softly.
Quin tilted his head to the side, a tiny wrinkle appearing between his eyes.
What does he know?
Matheus thought. Did he know about the foster homes? The constant relocations? Or did he know the truth?
“Left where?” Quin asked.
“Nowhere,” said Matheus. “It doesn’t matter.” He shivered.
The van made a loop before coming to a stop. A door opened in a squeal of metal; the van rocked from side to side, struts squeaking. Matheus tensed, waiting for the double doors to open, but instead, he heard the
“Hunters,” he said. “Like to hunt.”
“Profound,” said Matheus. “How long did it take you to come up with that one?”
“They like to hunt us. It’s a game. They release us somewhere away from civilians and try to catch us. If they capture us within three days, they win. If not, we do.”
“That’s twisted.” A chill curled in Matheus’ gut. He stared at Quin. “They’re just going to…like we’re animals?”
“That is the plan.” Quin seemed unconcerned.
Matheus wondered how many times the roles had been reversed, with Quin playing the part of prey instead of predator. In the back of his mind, the thought occurred to him that the hunters only did what Quin did to humans. He argued with himself that Quin only hunted to survive, but Matheus had the feeling the Quin enjoyed a good chase.
“Why? Why are you doing this? Don’t tell me you couldn’t escape. I saw what was left of that man in the alley. I’ve seen you move.”
“I want something from the hunters.”
“What?” Matheus leaned forward. The van went over three big bumps in a row, then slowed down to nearly a crawl.
Too late
, Matheus thought. He guessed the van’s next stop would be at a mechanic’s for a front-end alignment and some new struts. He might not be a country boy, but he knew better than to go speeding down a dirt road.
“That’s not your problem,” said Quin.
“Right. I’m not trapped in a van about to be the subject of some undead safari. This has nothing to do with me.”
“I tried to keep you out of it.”
“What the hell was I supposed to do?” Matheus shouted. “You were hurt. You don’t tell me anything. Maybe if I knew my head was going to go all spaz-tastic every time you got a paper cut, I wouldn’t have felt the need to go chasing after you.”
“How am I supposed to tell you things when you don’t want to listen?” Quin asked.
“I listen!”
“No, you don’t. You argue and you dig your heels in. You don’t want to think about what you are. You aren’t human anymore. You can’t go back.”
“You’re full of shit.”
Matheus’ shoulders hit the floor as Quin pinned him down. He cried out and shoved at Quin, but he might as well have tried to push a granite boulder up a hill. Quin pressed his sprained wrist across Matheus’ throat with a force that must have been agony, his knees digging into Matheus’ sides. Matheus kicked, the heels of his sneakers squeaking over the metal floor.
With his free hand, Quin pried Matheus’ mouth open.
“This is what you are now,” he said, triggering Matheus’ fangs. “Death and blood and the night. Deal with it.”
“I can’t!” Matheus’ tongue slipped around Quin’s fingers, turning his words into mush. He shook, still trying to push at Quin’s shoulders.
“You aren’t even trying.” Quin removed his fingers and braced his hand on the floor next to Matheus’ head.
“I can’t!” Matheus repeated. “I’m a nightmare!” The ragged edges of fear broke through his voice, clinging wet and sticky to his words.
“Matheus,” Quin began. He peered down at him, a strange expression on his face. He sat up, letting Matheus wiggle free.
“How? How am I supposed to…?” Matheus closed his eyes, unable to bear Quin staring at him. He wrapped his arms around his chest, as the memories he fought to suppress clamored for his attention. “I left for a reason,” he said softly.
Quin tilted his head to the side, a tiny wrinkle appearing between his eyes.
What does he know?
Matheus thought. Did he know about the foster homes? The constant relocations? Or did he know the truth?
“Left where?” Quin asked.
“Nowhere,” said Matheus. “It doesn’t matter.” He shivered.
The van made a loop before coming to a stop. A door opened in a squeal of metal; the van rocked from side to side, struts squeaking. Matheus tensed, waiting for the double doors to open, but instead, he heard the
Similar Books
