Saved By Blood (The By Blood Vampire Series Book 3) by Samantha Snow
Authors: Samantha Snow
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to herself, feeling something a lot like panic bubbling up inside of her chest. “What the hell are you doing here?”
The sound of her own voice was enough to get her moving. She had been in a kind of frozen state after waking, totally consumed with the thoughts she couldn’t stop from coming, but that was definitely no longer the case. She jumped out of bed, feeling like she couldn’t ever move fast enough, groping around in the dark for the little black summer dress he had tossed so unceremoniously aside.
The carpet was plush and impossibly deep, the kind of carpet only rich people could afford. Super, super rich people. She knew the dress was here somewhere, could vaguely recall the image of him yanking it up over her head the second time around (he hadn’t needed any time at all before he was ready for round two) and tossing it aside while she laughed giddily.
But where? Where the hell was it? She was on hands and knees now, feeling around in the dark like a blind person. The carpet was a rich purple and the rest of the room was so dark ! This guy had to have the best blackout curtains in the whole wide world for the room to be this dark. There wasn’t even the faintest hint of starlight or a moonbeam breaking through. Why on earth would he want it so dark?
“Oh,” she said to herself in a dull, flat breath, “right. Vampire.”
She reckoned that not everything in the myths about vampires were true, especially since she had first seen him when it was still twilight outside and not at all full dark, but that didn’t mean they loved light or anything like that. She felt a moment of curiosity before her mind started to scream at her again and she resumed her search.
Finally, and thank God for it, her pinky finger caught on something strappy and she pulled her little dress towards her, almost sobbing with relief. She had a habit of becoming claustrophobic when she felt like she might not be able to leave a place.
Even in a home as huge as this one, she could feel that claustrophobic panic threatening. It wasn’t about the size, anyway. She could easily have fit about six of her apartment, hell, probably ten, and still had plenty of room to spare. No, it was about the idea that she couldn’t just pick up and go. That was super important to her, to be able to pick up and go.
“Will he let me?”
She had shimmied into her dress quickly, with the ease of a person practiced at leaving places quickly, and slipped on her sandals in one fluid motion. She had been all set, but that last thought stopped her cold. The thought was in her words, in her voice, but it felt foreign. It felt like the same voice from the dream still wrapped tightly around her, and it made her skin prickle with goosebumps.
She couldn’t tell if that voice was friend or foe, and she didn’t want to stick around to find out. She needed to get out of here. She had to get out of there RIGHT NOW. She pulled the door open with a not inconsiderable effort. Even in her intense unease, she was surprised by the weight of it.
She could still vividly see Philip opening it and ushering her inside before making a playground of her body. He had opened it like it had no weight at all, thrown it back so that it almost hit the wall it was attached to. She remembered it so well because she had thought to herself that he was being a showoff, that he was trying to make the entrance to his chambers even grander (as if it needed to be).
Now, realizing that it took almost everything she had just to open that same door at all, she thought that perhaps he hadn’t been able to help that little show. She couldn’t say just how strong Philip Smith was, but she knew it was far stronger than any human man. Just one more piece of evidence to put down in the pro vampire column of the little list she was making inside of her head.
That pro column
The sound of her own voice was enough to get her moving. She had been in a kind of frozen state after waking, totally consumed with the thoughts she couldn’t stop from coming, but that was definitely no longer the case. She jumped out of bed, feeling like she couldn’t ever move fast enough, groping around in the dark for the little black summer dress he had tossed so unceremoniously aside.
The carpet was plush and impossibly deep, the kind of carpet only rich people could afford. Super, super rich people. She knew the dress was here somewhere, could vaguely recall the image of him yanking it up over her head the second time around (he hadn’t needed any time at all before he was ready for round two) and tossing it aside while she laughed giddily.
But where? Where the hell was it? She was on hands and knees now, feeling around in the dark like a blind person. The carpet was a rich purple and the rest of the room was so dark ! This guy had to have the best blackout curtains in the whole wide world for the room to be this dark. There wasn’t even the faintest hint of starlight or a moonbeam breaking through. Why on earth would he want it so dark?
“Oh,” she said to herself in a dull, flat breath, “right. Vampire.”
She reckoned that not everything in the myths about vampires were true, especially since she had first seen him when it was still twilight outside and not at all full dark, but that didn’t mean they loved light or anything like that. She felt a moment of curiosity before her mind started to scream at her again and she resumed her search.
Finally, and thank God for it, her pinky finger caught on something strappy and she pulled her little dress towards her, almost sobbing with relief. She had a habit of becoming claustrophobic when she felt like she might not be able to leave a place.
Even in a home as huge as this one, she could feel that claustrophobic panic threatening. It wasn’t about the size, anyway. She could easily have fit about six of her apartment, hell, probably ten, and still had plenty of room to spare. No, it was about the idea that she couldn’t just pick up and go. That was super important to her, to be able to pick up and go.
“Will he let me?”
She had shimmied into her dress quickly, with the ease of a person practiced at leaving places quickly, and slipped on her sandals in one fluid motion. She had been all set, but that last thought stopped her cold. The thought was in her words, in her voice, but it felt foreign. It felt like the same voice from the dream still wrapped tightly around her, and it made her skin prickle with goosebumps.
She couldn’t tell if that voice was friend or foe, and she didn’t want to stick around to find out. She needed to get out of here. She had to get out of there RIGHT NOW. She pulled the door open with a not inconsiderable effort. Even in her intense unease, she was surprised by the weight of it.
She could still vividly see Philip opening it and ushering her inside before making a playground of her body. He had opened it like it had no weight at all, thrown it back so that it almost hit the wall it was attached to. She remembered it so well because she had thought to herself that he was being a showoff, that he was trying to make the entrance to his chambers even grander (as if it needed to be).
Now, realizing that it took almost everything she had just to open that same door at all, she thought that perhaps he hadn’t been able to help that little show. She couldn’t say just how strong Philip Smith was, but she knew it was far stronger than any human man. Just one more piece of evidence to put down in the pro vampire column of the little list she was making inside of her head.
That pro column
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