and leaned in, allowing my lips to brush hers, first slowly, as we’d do in front of everyone when we announced our love at our wedding, and then harder and more urgently, allowing my lips to travel from her mouth to her neck, inching toward her snow-white bosom.
She grabbed my chin and pulled my face to hers and kissed me hard. I reciprocated. It was as if I were a starving man who’d finally found sustenance in her mouth. We kissed, and I closed my eyes and forgot about the future.
All of a sudden, I felt a sharp pain on my neck, as if I were being stabbed. I called out, but Katherine was still kissing me. But no, not kissing, biting, sucking the blood from beneath my skin.
My eyes flew open, and I saw Katherine’s eyes, wild and bloodshot, her face ghostly white in the moonlight. I wrenched my head back, but the pain was unrelenting, and I couldn’t scream, couldn’t fight, could only see the full moon out the window, and could only feel the blood leaving my body, and desire and heat and anger and terror all welling up inside me. If this was what death felt like, then I wanted it. I wanted it, and that was when I flung my arms around Katherine, giving myself to her. Then everything faded to black.
16
It was the lone hoot of an owl—a long, plaintive sound—that caused my eyes to snap open. As my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I felt a pulsing pain on the side of my neck that seemed to keep time with the owl’s cries. And suddenly I remembered everything—Katherine, her lips drawn back, her teeth sparkling. My heart pounding as though I were dying and being born all at the same time. The awful pain, the red eyes, the dark black of a dead sleep. I glanced around wildly.
Katherine, clad only in a necklace and a simple muslin slip, sat just steps away from me at the basin, washing her upper arms with a hand towel.
“Hello, sleepy Stefan,” she said coquettishly.
I swung my legs out of bed and tried to step out, only to find myself tangled in the sheets. “Your face,” I babbled, knowing I sounded insane and possessed, like a town drunk stumbling out of the tavern.
Katherine continued to run the cotton cloth along her arms. The face I’d seen last night was not human. It had been a face filled with thirst and desire and emotions I couldn’t even think to name.
But in this light Katherine looked lovelier than ever, blinking her eyes sleepily like a kitten after a long nap.
“Katherine?” I asked, forcing myself to look into her eyes. “What are you?”
Katherine slowly picked up the hairbrush on her nightstand, as if she had all the time in the world. She turned to me and began to run it through her luxurious locks.
“You’re not afraid, are you?” she asked.
So she was a vampire. My blood turned to ice.
I took the sheet and wrapped it against my body, then grabbed my breeches from the side of the bed and pulled them on. I quickly shoved my feet into my boots and yanked on my shirt, not caring about my undershirt, still on the floor. Fast as lightning, Katherine was at my side, her hand gripping my shoulder.
She was surprisingly strong, and I had to jerk sharply to wrench myself away from her grasp.
Once free, Katherine stepped back.
“Shhh. Shhh,” she murmured, as if she were a mother soothing a child.
“No!” I yelled, holding my hand up. I would not have her try to charm me. “You’re a vampire. You killed Rosalyn. You’re killing the town. You are evil, and you need to be stopped.”
But then I caught sight of her eyes, her large, luminous, seemingly depthless eyes, and I stopped short.
“You’re not afraid,” Katherine repeated.
The words echoed in my mind, bouncing around and finally taking residence there. I did not know how or why it was so, but in my heart of hearts, I suddenly wasn’t afraid. But still…
“You are a vampire, though. How can I abide that?”
“Stefan. Sweet, scared Stefan. It will all work out. You’ll see.” She cupped her chin in my
She grabbed my chin and pulled my face to hers and kissed me hard. I reciprocated. It was as if I were a starving man who’d finally found sustenance in her mouth. We kissed, and I closed my eyes and forgot about the future.
All of a sudden, I felt a sharp pain on my neck, as if I were being stabbed. I called out, but Katherine was still kissing me. But no, not kissing, biting, sucking the blood from beneath my skin.
My eyes flew open, and I saw Katherine’s eyes, wild and bloodshot, her face ghostly white in the moonlight. I wrenched my head back, but the pain was unrelenting, and I couldn’t scream, couldn’t fight, could only see the full moon out the window, and could only feel the blood leaving my body, and desire and heat and anger and terror all welling up inside me. If this was what death felt like, then I wanted it. I wanted it, and that was when I flung my arms around Katherine, giving myself to her. Then everything faded to black.
16
It was the lone hoot of an owl—a long, plaintive sound—that caused my eyes to snap open. As my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I felt a pulsing pain on the side of my neck that seemed to keep time with the owl’s cries. And suddenly I remembered everything—Katherine, her lips drawn back, her teeth sparkling. My heart pounding as though I were dying and being born all at the same time. The awful pain, the red eyes, the dark black of a dead sleep. I glanced around wildly.
Katherine, clad only in a necklace and a simple muslin slip, sat just steps away from me at the basin, washing her upper arms with a hand towel.
“Hello, sleepy Stefan,” she said coquettishly.
I swung my legs out of bed and tried to step out, only to find myself tangled in the sheets. “Your face,” I babbled, knowing I sounded insane and possessed, like a town drunk stumbling out of the tavern.
Katherine continued to run the cotton cloth along her arms. The face I’d seen last night was not human. It had been a face filled with thirst and desire and emotions I couldn’t even think to name.
But in this light Katherine looked lovelier than ever, blinking her eyes sleepily like a kitten after a long nap.
“Katherine?” I asked, forcing myself to look into her eyes. “What are you?”
Katherine slowly picked up the hairbrush on her nightstand, as if she had all the time in the world. She turned to me and began to run it through her luxurious locks.
“You’re not afraid, are you?” she asked.
So she was a vampire. My blood turned to ice.
I took the sheet and wrapped it against my body, then grabbed my breeches from the side of the bed and pulled them on. I quickly shoved my feet into my boots and yanked on my shirt, not caring about my undershirt, still on the floor. Fast as lightning, Katherine was at my side, her hand gripping my shoulder.
She was surprisingly strong, and I had to jerk sharply to wrench myself away from her grasp.
Once free, Katherine stepped back.
“Shhh. Shhh,” she murmured, as if she were a mother soothing a child.
“No!” I yelled, holding my hand up. I would not have her try to charm me. “You’re a vampire. You killed Rosalyn. You’re killing the town. You are evil, and you need to be stopped.”
But then I caught sight of her eyes, her large, luminous, seemingly depthless eyes, and I stopped short.
“You’re not afraid,” Katherine repeated.
The words echoed in my mind, bouncing around and finally taking residence there. I did not know how or why it was so, but in my heart of hearts, I suddenly wasn’t afraid. But still…
“You are a vampire, though. How can I abide that?”
“Stefan. Sweet, scared Stefan. It will all work out. You’ll see.” She cupped her chin in my
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