Read Online Vampire Lover by Linda Thomas-Sundstrom - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Linda Thomas-Sundstrom
Ads: Link
independent from the reality most people saw.
The torch, its flame flapping furiously and smelling of oil, gave the area beneath the castle’s moss-covered arch an otherworldly aura. In the dim light, the monster edged closer.
She recognized the difference between this creature and Hayden Flynn immediately—not only in looks, but at a deeper, more intrinsic level. This one felt Linda Thomas-Sundstrom
67
wrong. It stank of rotting flesh. Its white face shone like a clown’s. Its eyes were empty black sockets.
The creature made no sound when it moved. It didn’t appear to use its limbs, more or less floating on its own evil stench. Kelsie’s heartbeat tapped out a fast staccato. With the monster right in front of her, she almost went down, the horror was so great. Her fingers held tightly to the weapon in her hand, the smooth wood foreign to her touch and not nearly as comforting as a revolver loaded with silver bullets would have been.
No time to be sick!
The monster’s fangs were as black as its glaring eyes. It came on like a slippery darkness, fast as a blink. Like a spider. Two hands, cold as granite, tore at her sweater, tugging her toward its tattered chest. Its mouth gaped open.
Adrenaline kicked Kelsie into gear. She jumped sideways, landing on both feet with her hands still raised. The sharpened stake she clutched gleamed in the torchlight, catching the bloodsucker’s attention.
Angry at this show of resistance, it attacked.
Swinging to the right, ducking quickly, Kelsie hit the wall hard with one shoulder. Pain crashed down, hot, terrible, but she straightened in time to ward off another blow. Ducking again, she came up behind the vampire before remembering that the place where its heart was supposed to reside was on the opposite side.
The fangs side.
The monster whirled before she finished the thought, and had her by the throat. The momentum of its attack sent them both stumbling into another wall.
68
Vampire Lover
A rain of stones hurled down on them as Kelsie stabbed at the gaunt, sunken chest with all her might, without penetrating the flesh.
The vampire tumbled back, flailed its arms, hit dirt and bounded back up as if its backside were made of springs. Kelsie shuffled forward with another shallow breath, but her attention was derailed by the sense of another intruder.
Had this bloodsucker brought a friend?
No. This scent is familiar.
As fast as her fleeting thought, a secondary dark figure appeared between herself and the gaunt bloodsucker. Tall, dressed in black, with his blond hair shining against the backdrop of cold gray stone, Hayden Flynn glanced at her briefly, grabbed hold of her sweater and carried her out of the keep.
He tossed her the last little way, onto the grass, onto her knees. When she looked up, Flynn had already gone.
She stumbled to her feet and sprinted toward the hall, hearing scuffling sounds and a long, piercing wail. After that there was nothing. Dead silence.
Sides heaving, and with the stake clutched in her fist, Kelsie stopped beside the torch, breathless, seeing nothing of the gaunt monster. Only one vampire occupied the ancient space now. Hayden Flynn. His blue eyes were on her, as dangerous as she’d remembered them, and flashing evidence of his hunger. His lips were open, showing her a glimpse of fang.
He didn’t shout, growl, or move toward her. He stood there, unmoving, as if trying to get a grip on Linda Thomas-Sundstrom
69
himself. Then he said in a deep rumbling tone, "You weren’t lying."
CHAPTER EIGHT
The Slayer looked so small, standing there, her face highlighted by the fire from a torch, as it had been when he had first laid eyes on her. She was no less striking for all her disarray.
The stake she held was aimed, point out, at him.
She was scared, and rightly so. His heart went out to her.
"Just another night in the life of a Slayer," he said, observing her expression carefully.
"You came," she said, breathlessly.
"It was an
The torch, its flame flapping furiously and smelling of oil, gave the area beneath the castle’s moss-covered arch an otherworldly aura. In the dim light, the monster edged closer.
She recognized the difference between this creature and Hayden Flynn immediately—not only in looks, but at a deeper, more intrinsic level. This one felt Linda Thomas-Sundstrom
67
wrong. It stank of rotting flesh. Its white face shone like a clown’s. Its eyes were empty black sockets.
The creature made no sound when it moved. It didn’t appear to use its limbs, more or less floating on its own evil stench. Kelsie’s heartbeat tapped out a fast staccato. With the monster right in front of her, she almost went down, the horror was so great. Her fingers held tightly to the weapon in her hand, the smooth wood foreign to her touch and not nearly as comforting as a revolver loaded with silver bullets would have been.
No time to be sick!
The monster’s fangs were as black as its glaring eyes. It came on like a slippery darkness, fast as a blink. Like a spider. Two hands, cold as granite, tore at her sweater, tugging her toward its tattered chest. Its mouth gaped open.
Adrenaline kicked Kelsie into gear. She jumped sideways, landing on both feet with her hands still raised. The sharpened stake she clutched gleamed in the torchlight, catching the bloodsucker’s attention.
Angry at this show of resistance, it attacked.
Swinging to the right, ducking quickly, Kelsie hit the wall hard with one shoulder. Pain crashed down, hot, terrible, but she straightened in time to ward off another blow. Ducking again, she came up behind the vampire before remembering that the place where its heart was supposed to reside was on the opposite side.
The fangs side.
The monster whirled before she finished the thought, and had her by the throat. The momentum of its attack sent them both stumbling into another wall.
68
Vampire Lover
A rain of stones hurled down on them as Kelsie stabbed at the gaunt, sunken chest with all her might, without penetrating the flesh.
The vampire tumbled back, flailed its arms, hit dirt and bounded back up as if its backside were made of springs. Kelsie shuffled forward with another shallow breath, but her attention was derailed by the sense of another intruder.
Had this bloodsucker brought a friend?
No. This scent is familiar.
As fast as her fleeting thought, a secondary dark figure appeared between herself and the gaunt bloodsucker. Tall, dressed in black, with his blond hair shining against the backdrop of cold gray stone, Hayden Flynn glanced at her briefly, grabbed hold of her sweater and carried her out of the keep.
He tossed her the last little way, onto the grass, onto her knees. When she looked up, Flynn had already gone.
She stumbled to her feet and sprinted toward the hall, hearing scuffling sounds and a long, piercing wail. After that there was nothing. Dead silence.
Sides heaving, and with the stake clutched in her fist, Kelsie stopped beside the torch, breathless, seeing nothing of the gaunt monster. Only one vampire occupied the ancient space now. Hayden Flynn. His blue eyes were on her, as dangerous as she’d remembered them, and flashing evidence of his hunger. His lips were open, showing her a glimpse of fang.
He didn’t shout, growl, or move toward her. He stood there, unmoving, as if trying to get a grip on Linda Thomas-Sundstrom
69
himself. Then he said in a deep rumbling tone, "You weren’t lying."
CHAPTER EIGHT
The Slayer looked so small, standing there, her face highlighted by the fire from a torch, as it had been when he had first laid eyes on her. She was no less striking for all her disarray.
The stake she held was aimed, point out, at him.
She was scared, and rightly so. His heart went out to her.
"Just another night in the life of a Slayer," he said, observing her expression carefully.
"You came," she said, breathlessly.
"It was an
Similar Books
