By Amanda Ashley
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He grunted softly. Perhaps he could donate funds to some obscure university with the stipulation that they use the money to research diseases of the blood in hopes of finding a way to reverse the effects of the Dark Gift. Or maybe he could open a training school for vampire hunters… Returning to his room, he rummaged through his purchases, deciding on a pair of black jeans and a bulky white sweater. He paused in front of the mirror, a faint smile playing over his face. He had never been a handsome man.
Play the part. He gazed deep into her eyes. Summoning his power, he bent her will to his, felt her body relax at his suggestion. Her eyelids fluttered down, her head lolled to one side, exposing the smooth expanse of her neck. He took a deep breath. " Chiavari's words echoed in the back of his mind as he bent over the woman's neck. Revulsion warred with his hunger. The hunger won, rising up within him, hot and hungry and overpowering. He drank quickly, sickened by what he was doing, filled with bitter self-loathing because even though the act disgusted him, he found pleasure in it.
Wading into the water, he grabbed her by the shoulder. She was unconscious, no doubt from the impact of hitting the frigid water. There were dark smudges under her eyes. Her face was pale, her lips tinged with blue. She was far too thin. Kneeling, he laid her on the sand, took off his coat and wrapped it around her, then gathered her into his arms once again. He stared down at her. He had not yet fed. The Siren call of her blood whispered to the hunger within him. He suppressed the urge, pleased by his power to do so.