Vicious In Love by D.D. Dass (ebook reader with highlight function TXT) 📕

“Hours?” The doctor stood, removing the blue surgical gloves as Ian crossed his arms.

“Precisely. I’ve packaged blood to hold her by. If you continue to have her drink from them she shall be alright until the Chosen arrives. I advise you take her where other males are not present.” At the words Ian pinched the bridge of his nose, but went for the duffle across the room nonetheless.

“And how long’s this transition last for…females?” His voice, he noted absently, was too raw for comfort.

The doctor –Fang –Ian caught the nametag, watched Beth as she moaned, more searing heat radiating from the core of her.  Sweet Goddess. Ian sucked in a deep, calming breath which was the same error he always made around her.

His throat flamed, fangs elongating with purpose and his stomach churning with famine. He needed to feed, but only when he got her situated.

Fang cleared his throat, fidgeting. “Since she is the daughter of a leader, it’s to be worse. Generally, it would last five hours or so, but, in her case, more or less ten. The blood needing is worse than the sexual, but the morphine should help, especially when her fangs come in. Just be prepare for that hunger…seeing as you are a male of finer heritage, my lord.” Right.

“Hunger?” Fang gave a grin, as if the question was somehow funny.

“You shall see. Keep in mind, she’ll be much stronger. She’ll use that against you…to act out, a bit more viciously.” He stifled a snort. Beth generally was vicious.  He could handle that.

He didn’t have to think hard about relocation. The townhouse he owned in Manhattan would do, though he despised having to remain there, it was much too close to those damned hunters. And where the hunters lingered, humans and others did in turn.”

Curtly, he nodded in thanks, going over to Beth. Not trusting himself to breathe, he took one last breath before stopping completely. It was slightly uncomfortable, but durable. With the duffle bag at his shoulder, he took care in lifting her. At the proximity her hands clutched his shirt and he swallowed a groan, making his destination his focus.

And then their forms wavered, and darkness greeted him openly before he made solid contact. An alarm, designed for only supernatural ears sounded, but he ignored it to pull back a canopy from an untouched bed. His eyes remained strictly on the door, awaiting the entrance of his security as he placed her down, draping the coverlet over her.

As expected, a nameless guard burst through the door. Ian hissed, exposing his fangs as the male staggered backwards. “Out.”  Immediate obedience. The dead-bolts twisted into place seconds later.

And without warning, the energy flashed white over his vision and reeled backwards, on his feet, to where the duffle lay on the floor. Don’t think ‘bout her, don’t think ‘bout her, he repeated inwardly as he flicked the syringe, a numb smile on his lips as the morphine leaked from the tip.

He hated having to be the one to do it, but she was hurting and there wasn’t another option unless…Hell fuckin’ no. He refused to go there. Even as he thought that, his erection pulsed at the opportunity, twisting painfully at his zipper. Good for the damned thing.

For a moment, bloodlust chewed at his sanity, and he thought about crushing that guard’s skull in his hand, but realized that was impossible for so many reasons.  There was nothing to relieve the building tension, nothing at all, just a still-growing hard-on, an agonized transitioned, and blood.

“Let’s all have a fuckin’ tea party,” he muttered bitterly.  Shaking himself, he approached the bed in careful footsteps, going through the correct ways of injection.

Wrist, elbow…? Wrist, he thought. He’d go with the wrist.

Not wanting to soil the sheets near her, he kicked off his boots before he knelt on the mattress, debating on retrieving Fang to just do it or –

She cried out, a sound that made his eyes go wide. Alright, so it had to be now. Goddess, why the hell was he so nervous about this? So damned unsure of himself.

He circled her wrist in his fingers, trying to ignore how badly his hands shook. But that couldn’t do, he’d screw up and he couldn’t afford to.

Closing his eyes, he focused on her racing heartbeat. It calmed him until he was composed enough that he could inject the needle into her vein. She mumbled something that sounded close to thank you.  

That thank you confirmed it, confirmed that he’d done right by someone.

And he tried not to notice that it mattered more that he’d done right by her.

Pain. Raw pain severed the obscurity. It was cold, and she was left to the pain, alone with the darkness. Alone, alone, alone.

A scream pierced the air as her lungs grasped oxygen, alleviating some muted ache in his chest. Something frighteningly carnal slithered through her insides. Her gums tore, and blood filled her mouth, a saccharine taste that caused an unbearable hunger to join in on the torment. With each breath, a scent wisped and nothing seemed to matter.

A heartbeat pounded in her ears as she hummed around it, leaving her heavy eyes shut. She was very starving; a famine she’d never experienced garroted through her belly.

Absently, she noted that she could hear far more than that heartbeat. Inside, someone was approaching her, outside cars and people and–. A sweat broke over her skin, breathing coming in shallow pants. Her throat was so tight, and dry. She needed a drink.

Without permission, her eyes flickered, and she saw…really saw. It was dark, yet unbelievably clear.

What...?
     Where…?

The room was spacious, but empty and bare of…personality. It wasn’t hers. Colored in all black: black dressers, bed sheets, nightstands, except the walls, which were a deep, oddly deep blue, designed specifically to make someone feel that they were suffocating. It only left her disoriented.

She tried to remember how she’d ended up here, in a stranger’s bed, but it all came back in blurry, dreamlike flashes. Ian. She’d been talking –arguing with him…Somehow they’d found out she’d left the premises and oh Goddess her father –

Terror grasped her lungs and unconsciously, she bounded backwards, knocking into the opposite wall to her with a hard thump that should have hurt… but didn’t.  Not at all. In fact, she felt better than ever, everything felt easy, except the throbbing of her throat…

Shying away from it, she realized that her lip, her cheek, her head, didn’t hurt, though she knew the damage had been done. Instead, all she felt was an exhilarating high.

Drugs, maybe?

Her eyes lifted and oh. His face was impassive, much the same, but now…he looked…Goddess, he was the sexiest male she’d ever laid eyes on. Had she ever actually seen him before now?

The brown of his hair seemed lighter now, as if fell loosely over those sharp, calculating green eyes, extremely daunting with their tinges of red. His skin seemed natural now, smooth and pale to his sharp features, less warrior-like in comparison to her father. And that made him so much more attractive. His bottom lip was caught between his whites, fangs exposed.

Across the room, he was stiff, broad shoulders heavy, giving a show of the slightness of him. That was how she caught sight of the bag he held. Eyes locked on her in that weird, wary way.

Under that gaze she somehow managed to unwind a bit. Probably because he wasn’t her father which left little to no possibility of him harming her. She tried to swallow, but found she couldn’t, it was raw, merciless pain. Her hands reached up to clutch her throat, bewildered and cowardly afraid.

“What’s wrong with me?” she breathed shakily, reaching for bedside table to steady herself. Beneath her fingers, the wood splinted and she yelped –it even hurt to do that –and lurched away, horrified at what she’d done. She looked down to her hand which remained unscratched. What?

Her eyes made their way back to Ian as he cautiously moved forward to place the bag in the middle of the bed. Then he threw his hands up and took three steps back, to his original spot. As if worried…for her? No, she thought, for himself. Huh, well, this had to be a dream then.

Ignoring him, she eyed the baggie, which was uncovered to reveal midnight red…blood? He was giving her blood? She looked back to him, trying not to look hopelessly confused as she was.

His eyes held something different now. Pity?

A small, tenuous growl echoed in the room and she inhaled sharply, realizing that it’d come from her. She was growling…? At him?!  He deserved it. She did not need his empty pity.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Beth snapped. He arched an elegant brow and the temperature dropped a degree.

Really? she thought angrily. How the hell did he manage to influence even the atmosphere?

“How was I looking at you?” His voice came harsher than hers, of course. Why does he hate me so much? God, that hurt.

She raised in chin defiantly. “Like I need you.”

His lips tipped into a small smile, but she did not let herself get distracted by that. She would not be affected by him. “Don’t you?” She might need him.

“You wish.” She didn’t mean for it to come out so childish but…

“Hardly. C’mon Elizabeth, you’re acting infantile.”

“I need to leave…” And fast because with the way she was feeling, it would be a miracle if she didn’t become homicidal. But where exactly was she? She needed to talk to her mother, about the roller-coaster of emotions. Was this part of the transitional waiting? Did it mean it was closer? Was she already beginning?

She didn’t think so; it didn’t hurt something horrible yet…Not like she’d been taught.

Then again, it really had hurt that bad earlier. It had hurt something indescribable. Her blood a thick, searing lava running through her veins, her skin slowly, but indubitably being peeled away and her head an atomic bomb. Above that, she’d been so turned on it’d actually hurt.

She flinched away from the memory, her face heating as warm liquid seeped from the junction at her thighs. Not freaking now.

What is happening to me? she thought furiously.

“You need to feed Beth.” Feed? All the pieces suddenly fell into place. The pain, the thirst and need, the heightened senses, feeling as if she could take on the world…Vampire. She was a Vampire. Or nearly there at least.

Reaching up to reassure herself that she wasn’t going crazy, she opened her mouth, running a finger along the sharp points of her…fangs, probing them until she could feel the slight ache in her gums as they contracted. Hmm, well, it certainly had been a surprise.

She shook herself, rubbing her eyes next as she stifled an exhausted yawn. Wait –he wanted her to feed from a rubber package? No freakin’ way.

“Where is…erm, where’s my male?” He’d made it perfectly clear she wasn’t taking his vein.

There was a gravelly growl that froze the air and she toyed with her fingers, nervously avoiding his gaze when she spoke again. “I mean,” she stumbled over her words awkwardly. “I know I’m not taking…we’re not going to –,”

“Don’t