The Vengeful Vampire by Marissa Farrar Page A

am and you wonder why I hate you for it?”

    “You are strong and beautiful,” she breathed. “You will live forever. How can you hate me for that?”

    “You took away everything I loved. Who wants to spend eternity alone?”

    “So give in.”

    Instantly, she stood directly in front of him, her long slim fingers touching his cheek. “Stay with me and you won’t be alone.”

    Sebastian took a small step back, the solid concrete, enamel and steel no longer beneath his feet. He plummeted through the air, the cool wind whistling past his ears. His stomach lurched, like hitting turbulence on an airplane, and his feet hit the ground. Every muscle tensed to take the impact and he dropped to a crouch.

    Within moments, Madeline was by his side again, dropping lighter than he had. She was more agile, faster than him.

    He rounded on her. “Get out of my life, Madeline. I would rather spend eternity alone than one more minute with you.”

    She glared at him, yellow eyes like beacons. “It’s that woman isn’t it?” she snarled, flashing her canines at him. “A fucking human! What do you want with another human? They’re weak, pathetic.”

    “They have feelings, they care, they love .”

    “I can love,” she pretended to be hurt.

    “You only love yourself.”

    He turned from her and started to walk away. His ears listened for the sound of her following but only silence greeted him. When he reached the chain-link fencing, he risked turning around. The space behind him was empty but Sebastian knew it wouldn’t be for long. Now she had found him again, she wouldn’t leave him alone.

    Madeline must have searched every city to find him, or maybe she just got lucky? He thought by leaving Europe he’d escaped her. The other vampire thought America to be crass and uneducated, a new world version of ‘new money’. He thought Los Angeles was the one city Madeline would avoid, but he’d been wrong.

    He needed to leave again, to lose himself in a world that was quickly becoming too small.

    Chapter Nine

    Jackson spent most of the next day nursing his sore head. By mid-afternoon, he announced he needed a medicinal brandy and was going to the bar.

    As soon as he told Serenity, a flutter of nervous butterflies stirred in her stomach. From past experience, she knew Jackson never stuck to one drink. If he went down to the bar, he wouldn’t return until closing time.

    Time to go.

    Nausea churned inside her. Was she actually going to leave her husband? She planned to pack a bag, take three hundred dollars out of a machine, and find a hotel for the night. She’d decided not to take the first bus out so she could try to get her hands on another three hundred dollars in the morning. Jackson might cancel her card as soon as he realized she was gone, but she suspected he’d most likely keep quiet in order to track her by her cash withdrawals. Staying in town for one night would allow her the extra money without giving Jackson any idea which direction she was heading. As soon as he figured out where she was going, he would follow to make sure she never got the chance to leave him again.

    Serenity hadn’t booked a hotel or decided at which one to stay. The less she planned, the more unpredictable her movements were, increased the difficulty Jackson would experience trying to finding her.

    Heart thumping in her chest, Serenity went upstairs and started pulling bags from the closet. Her hands shook and her stomach cramped in a ball of knots. They owned a set of large silver suitcases, but she didn’t want to pack anything big so she could be as mobile as possible. Instead, she found a black, canvas backpack; one Jackson bought at the airport when his hand luggage had been overweight. She wouldn’t be able to fit much into the bag, but enough for her to survive.

    Serenity sighed. Beautiful things filled the house, items she had worked hard for; stupid little trinkets to make her miserable life happy—pretty picture