Saved By Blood (The By Blood Vampire Series Book 3) by Samantha Snow Page A
Authors: Samantha Snow
Ads: Link
was growing longer with each minute ticking by on the massive home’s grandfather clock, while the con column only had one item. Only one, that vampires weren’t actually possible, and that point was rapidly losing its weightiness.
Pretty soon she thought that it might be wiped off the slate entirely and she would be left with nothing but the complete certainty that vampires were real. And if vampires were real, what did that mean about all of the other things that went bump in the night? Did that make all of those legends and myths true? Just where in the hell did it stop?
“No,” she whispered fiercely, “no. Not going there. Can’t go there, not while I’m still inside this house. If I do that, I’ll never get out. I’ll slip right down the rabbit hole and I’ll never be able to get back out again.”
She nodded to herself the same way she would have if she had been talking to another person and not herself, and moved on, not bothering to shut the door after she left Philip’s bed chambers. It wasn’t that she was trying to be rude or anything like that, it wasn’t even that well thought out. It was honestly as simple as she was pretty sure she wouldn’t have been able to close it even if she wanted to, and also she highly doubted things like that mattered to Philip.
She knew that it was crazy, that it had to be crazy, that she needed it to be crazy, but she got the sense that it wasn’t a door that he usually kept closed from day to day in whatever strange amalgamation of tides constituted as his life. She felt that he had closed the door for her, for her sake. He had known (whether consciously or unconsciously) that she would be visiting him soon and he wanted to keep that possibility separate.
He wanted her to want to see his room, and to know that, by the time she made it clear that, yes, that was indeed what she wanted, it was because she wanted him to take her. She had let him take her, a vampire, a man who wasn’t a man at all and could have sucked the life out of her without taxing himself at all.
But it was more than that. She hadn’t just let him, she had wanted him to. She had needed to keep from begging him to, that’s how badly she had wanted it. Even now, when she played their escapades back like a film inside of her mind, she could feel that want bubbling up inside. If he had walked up that fancy stairwell of his at that moment and glided down the hall towards her she would have let him pick her up and take her straight back to bed.
She knew it without an ounce of doubt, and that knowing frightened her most of all. It frightened her even more than understanding what he really was (the dead man, the vampire she was supposed to stick close to if the magpie voice held any truth in it), and shaking all over, she finally began to move.
The idea of leaving a place was almost always an easy thing. The concept of how one would do it, the planning of the thing. Sometimes Megan thought that the only times leaving a place was actually easy were the few times when she worried that it would be hard.
Otherwise, there always seemed to be a snag in the plan, some kind of hiccup of varying size. It could be something as vague as emotional responses and it could be something as straightforward as a car that wouldn’t start, but a hiccup none the less.
The hiccup on this particular occasion was the sheer size of the place she was in. Even from the street on the dozens, maybe even hundreds of times when she had stood outside of this house, she hadn’t ever begun to grasp just how massive this place really was. She had known it was large, of course she had. She had known it was larger than most houses in the country but now she knew that saying a thing like that was like referring to the T-Rex as kind of a big reptile (she wasn’t sure that a T-Rex was even a reptile, but it worked for her as a
Pretty soon she thought that it might be wiped off the slate entirely and she would be left with nothing but the complete certainty that vampires were real. And if vampires were real, what did that mean about all of the other things that went bump in the night? Did that make all of those legends and myths true? Just where in the hell did it stop?
“No,” she whispered fiercely, “no. Not going there. Can’t go there, not while I’m still inside this house. If I do that, I’ll never get out. I’ll slip right down the rabbit hole and I’ll never be able to get back out again.”
She nodded to herself the same way she would have if she had been talking to another person and not herself, and moved on, not bothering to shut the door after she left Philip’s bed chambers. It wasn’t that she was trying to be rude or anything like that, it wasn’t even that well thought out. It was honestly as simple as she was pretty sure she wouldn’t have been able to close it even if she wanted to, and also she highly doubted things like that mattered to Philip.
She knew that it was crazy, that it had to be crazy, that she needed it to be crazy, but she got the sense that it wasn’t a door that he usually kept closed from day to day in whatever strange amalgamation of tides constituted as his life. She felt that he had closed the door for her, for her sake. He had known (whether consciously or unconsciously) that she would be visiting him soon and he wanted to keep that possibility separate.
He wanted her to want to see his room, and to know that, by the time she made it clear that, yes, that was indeed what she wanted, it was because she wanted him to take her. She had let him take her, a vampire, a man who wasn’t a man at all and could have sucked the life out of her without taxing himself at all.
But it was more than that. She hadn’t just let him, she had wanted him to. She had needed to keep from begging him to, that’s how badly she had wanted it. Even now, when she played their escapades back like a film inside of her mind, she could feel that want bubbling up inside. If he had walked up that fancy stairwell of his at that moment and glided down the hall towards her she would have let him pick her up and take her straight back to bed.
She knew it without an ounce of doubt, and that knowing frightened her most of all. It frightened her even more than understanding what he really was (the dead man, the vampire she was supposed to stick close to if the magpie voice held any truth in it), and shaking all over, she finally began to move.
The idea of leaving a place was almost always an easy thing. The concept of how one would do it, the planning of the thing. Sometimes Megan thought that the only times leaving a place was actually easy were the few times when she worried that it would be hard.
Otherwise, there always seemed to be a snag in the plan, some kind of hiccup of varying size. It could be something as vague as emotional responses and it could be something as straightforward as a car that wouldn’t start, but a hiccup none the less.
The hiccup on this particular occasion was the sheer size of the place she was in. Even from the street on the dozens, maybe even hundreds of times when she had stood outside of this house, she hadn’t ever begun to grasp just how massive this place really was. She had known it was large, of course she had. She had known it was larger than most houses in the country but now she knew that saying a thing like that was like referring to the T-Rex as kind of a big reptile (she wasn’t sure that a T-Rex was even a reptile, but it worked for her as a
Similar Books
