I was already mad. Blood flowed down my esophagus in red red waves, and it wasn’t enough, it wasn’t enough! The shape pinned beneath me had clearly been put in my path for the sole purpose of tormenting me, with its skin and its muscle and sinew and tendon getting in the way of what I needed... what I had to have inside me right this instant.
So I ripped and I tore and I suckled at the hot flow of red until it slowed to a bare trickle. Shrieks of fury tore at my lungs as I tried to get more more more—why wasn’t there more?
Unfamiliar hands that had been clenching my upper arms trembled and went limp, falling to the ground. Foolish creature, hoarding blood that I needed, and trying to use those hands to push me away. I would have it all... every last drop, and no one would stand in my path—
Arms closed around me from behind, and I screamed again, frenzied. Who dared—?
An aura of crackling energy surrounded me, demanding my compliance in a way that the arms alone never could have. Desperation flooded me, swirling together with the rage in a heady mix. This new presence couldn’t possibly mean to keep me away from the blood... didn’t it know that the universe would end if there was blood left anywhere in the world that didn’t belong to me?
My scream rose to a wail of utter desolation. I was on fire, I was burning alive—how could the restraining presence do this to me? How could anyone, anything be so cruel? There was blood and I needed it and I couldn’t get to it oh god oh god oh god.
I thrashed and flailed, but the aura of power only settled more heavily across me, smothering, suffocating, inescapable—
“Oh, Zorah. Thank god... shh, I’ve got you, love, thank god, thank god,” said a low voice, the words pressed into the nape of my neck, repeated over and over.
The arms rocked me like a parent comforting an anguished child, and my wails descended into sobs. Wetness trickled down my cheeks in rivulets, and I knew with complete certainty that they were tears of blood—more of the precious red escaping my grasp even as the idea of losing it made me cry harder.
“Easy... easy, I’m so sorry, love,” the voice murmured. The inescapable grip turned me around, leaving my face pressed against more of that infuriating skin—a flimsy barrier hiding the blood beneath. “All right. Here’s more. It should pack a stronger punch than Guthrie’s, too. Go ahead, Zorah...”
My mouth flooded with saliva at the impossibly tempting feast laid out millimeters from my fangs, and I struck without hesitation... without thought. Fresh blood poured past my lips. So good, it was so good—how could anything be this good?
I groaned, wanton and needy, swallowing frantic gulps until the seductive heat of it spread throughout my body. My limbs grew heavy with sudden exhaustion, the need for sleep supplanting the rage and the hunger and the desolation. Just one more sip... just a little bit more...
“Still got you, love,” said the voice, hoarse with emotion or possibly pain. “Not letting go. Sleep now, Zorah. I won’t leave you—my word on it.”
The heaviness settled over me like a blanket, smothering the cravings and dragging me down into dreams of hot scarlet lust.
* * *
Reality became a series of snapshots, each more surreal than the last. I was in the boat, struggling against a grip that I was almost strong enough to break.
“Zorah. Zorah! Try to stay calm!” Vaguely, my mind identified Guthrie’s voice, though I couldn’t put the knowledge together with the detestable creature restraining me from getting free and finding more blood. “We’re moored in a cove near some kind of tourist spot in Antigua—Rans went to find us some humans to drink from so he can feed you again! But you have to stay here, and try to keep quiet—”
I shrieked, mindless with hunger, and attempted to bite the hand that covered my mouth as Guthrie cursed sharply under his breath. When four creatures with beating hearts and hot, pulsing blood arrived in the company of another one with no heartbeat, I managed to wrest free of my captor’s grip and stumble toward them through the shallow water.
Strength I couldn’t fight caught me before I could reach the warm blood I wanted, and more enraged screams ripped free of my chest.
“No, love—not them. Here. Come here. I’ve got what you need.” My fangs were pressed against a pale throat. I latched on with mindless hunger, rubbing my body shamelessly against my victim’s as I ripped and tore and sucked and swallowed.
* * *
New snapshot. It was dark, but somehow I could still see my surroundings with startling clarity. I was in a building, sort of. There was a roof, and furniture, but what should have been a wall was open to the outside. Waves lapped against sand. Palm trees rustled in a balmy breeze. Scents tickled my nose with an intensity I’d never experienced before.
Blood. There was blood nearby. I lurched forward, trying to sit up, only to be brought up short by the unforgiving bite of metal around my wrists. Frustration drew shrill cries from my throat, mindless and angry.
“I’m here. I’m here, love. Shh... easy, there...”
I didn’t care about the voice, or the gentle hand easing me down to lie flat on the soft surface of whatever I was chained to. I did care about the cool weight pressing down on me, tucking my head against the crook of a neck that was already growing as familiar as a mother’s breast.
With a groan of relief, I sank fangs into tender skin and drank in greedy gulps. Heat surged in my belly. My legs were free, so I wrapped
