Once Bitten, Twice Shy
Twice Shy
by
C.C. Wood
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Copyright © Crystal W. Wilson 2014
Kindle Edition
Cover by Jena Brignola at Bibliophile Productions
The author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and trademarked owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: Amazon Kindle,
Garfield
, and
Alien
.
T
he night was
hot and moonless. The air I struggled to suck into my lungs felt wet and heavy. Even as I gasped in huge gulps, my lungs burned. My feet were bare. Rocks and twigs cut into the flesh of my feet, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. If I stopped running, he’d be on me.
I knew if he caught me that I was as good as dead. I also knew that he would take his time before I died. I would rather fight to the death than let him do those things to me. He had barely begun to hurt me when I escaped, but I knew without a doubt that I wouldn’t let him get his hands on me again.
The punctures on my neck and arms were bleeding steadily. I felt my body weakening from the blood loss. My feet felt heavier with each step and the agonizing pain shot up from all the cuts and scrapes on the bottom of them. I didn’t know how much longer I could go on, but I wasn’t going to give up.
Suddenly, I burst out of the woods, into an open area. Before me I saw the spread of the lake and realized that he had herded me to a cliff. I came to a stop just a few feet from the edge, breathing heavily and almost collapsed to my knees. I was cornered.
I heard him approach and turned around. He wasn’t loud, but I could make out the slight sound of his footsteps, the light, quick intake of his breath. He wasn’t as winded as I. Actually, he wasn’t winded at all. For some reason, that small detail enraged me. Probably because I was terrified and running for my life, and he was treating this as a game.
I watched as the hulking shadow emerged from the line of trees and my blood ran colder.
“Come to me,” he whispered.
I felt my body respond. My feet took a step forward without my permission and I realized that the smirking bastard intended to make me walk to him so he could kill me. Somehow, I found the strength to resist and I stopped moving. I had nowhere to run, but at least I wasn’t walking straight into the arms of death any longer.
“Come,” he said.
I shook my head, fighting with every molecule in my body not to do as he said.
“Come,” he roared.
Without my permission, my right foot lifted to take another step toward the shadow calling me.
I tried to stop. I tried to control the motions of my body, but there was nothing I could do. I bit my lip hard enough to break the skin and I tasted the sharp tang of blood. The pain broke his hold over me.
I screamed and turned so that I was facing the cliff. I fought his hold on my mind as I headed for the edge.
“COME TO ME!” His voice boomed, so loud my ears hurt.
Still, somehow, I fought his hold and took one more running step before I vaulted over the edge. I heard his scream of rage echo around me as I plummeted from the cliff. The rocks along the edge of the lake rushed up to meet me and there was a burst of bright light behind my eyes. Then I slid into blissful blackness.
I
burst out
of the chains of the dream with a soundless scream. My throat was tight and my breathing so shallow that I didn’t even have enough air to let loose the shriek that was caught in my chest. As they had in the dream, my lungs burned and the air I breathed didn’t seem as though it was enough.
I realized that in my blind panic I had lunged out of bed and was standing next to the mattress, swaying. My legs collapsed beneath me and I fell to the floor, trying to slow my breathing. At first I didn’t know where in the hell I was, but, as reality returned, I recognized my luxuriously appointed guest room. I was at the home my friend, Donna, shared with her fiancé, Conner. I was staying here with them while I recovered from the vampire attack I had suffered a few months ago.
Physically, I was fine, but my emotional state was still fragile. As much as I hated to admit it, I was a basket case. Because I couldn’t handle my full-time workload any longer, I began to work from home just a few hours a week. Now, I could no longer afford my apartment, but the idea of going back out into the world on a regular basis gave me panic attacks. Though staying with vampires should have done the same, Donna was my best friend and, other than the whole drinking blood thing, she was no different now that she was a vampire. That alone made me feel safe in her house.
Finally, after several long minutes, my heart rate slowed and I actually felt as though I were sucking air into my lungs rather than glass. The adrenaline surge from the nightmare left me feeling weak, shaky, and nauseated. When I was somewhat certain that my legs would hold my weight, I pushed to my feet, leaning heavily against the bed until my knees didn’t feel like cooked spaghetti.
I staggered to the sink in the bathroom and turned the cold water on full blast. Cupping the water in my hands, I splashed my sweaty, tear-streaked face and neck. The nausea threatened to overwhelm me, but I fought it back with everything I had. When I was certain I wouldn’t be sick, I turned off the water and dried my face with a hand towel.
I realized that my sleep shirt was soaked with sweat and decided that a shower might help chase away the last dregs of the nightmare. I went to the shower and turned the water on. Now that I was up, my skin felt cold and clammy, so I turned the water to hot, stripped off my shirt and panties, and stepped under the steamy spray.
I showered quickly. My stomach was still upset and my hands were shaking as I washed my hair. A few minutes later, I finished rinsing the last of the sweat from my skin and stepped out of the shower. After I dried off, I realized that there was no way I would be able to go back to sleep.
I dressed in yoga pants and a t-shirt, leaving my feet bare. I knew Conner had tea in the well-stocked kitchen, so I padded out of the guest room and headed toward the stairs. It was only two in the morning and I knew that Conner and Donna would be snuggled up in their bed, even if they weren’t sleeping.
Though I assumed they would probably still hear me, I tried to tiptoe down the stairs. It seemed so odd that they could hear me moving around on carpet, with bare feet, while their room was on the other side of the house, but it was something I was adjusting to. My best friend was a vampire. A rueful smile crossed my lips. The very sentence sounded deranged, but it was true.
Just a few months ago, I thought vampires were the stuff of legend and fantasy. Hell, I didn’t even read paranormal romance. I often lost patience with the author’s attempts at world building.
I learned the truth when Donna and I were kidnapped a month and a half ago, and I was still struggling with that knowledge and my own personal experiences with the fanged. When we had been taken by Vanessa, or the
shebitch with cuntitis
as Donna liked to call her, I thought I was going to die. Vanessa had given me to a fellow vampire who had explained in great detail what he intended to do to me before he would end my suffering with death.
As I walked down the stairs, I shivered at the memories. My dream tonight had brought them close to the surface. I hated that, because Donna and Conner would know and they would look at each other in that way that made me think they were having a conversation without speaking. Then Conner would avoid me the rest of the day and Donna would coddle me and drive me crazy.
Right after the attack, I hadn’t wanted to see either of them again. I was convinced that all vampires must be soulless, demonic creatures with only the desire for blood and pain. All it had taken to change my mind was seeing Donna. I hadn’t realized at the time that Conner had turned her. It wasn’t until her eyes changed that I understood what happened.
At first, the fear was so overwhelming that I only wanted to run, to escape, but it became very clear within minutes that my friend was the same except in what she now needed for nourishment. Her personality, penchant for dropping the f-bomb, and her loyalty were all there.
Since I met Conner before knowing what he truly was, it was easier for me to accept him. It was the rest of vampire kind that I was having difficulty with. Each time I met a new vampire, it took all I had not to run away. The urge wasn’t as strong now as it had been a couple of months ago, but it was still there. The few other vampires I’d met were friends of Conner’s and they all treated me with care. Oddly, I found that their delicate treatment made me more comfortable.
Except for one, Alexander Dimitriades. He had a way of watching me that made me feel as though he were privy to my deepest thoughts and desires. And not because he was reading my mind, but because he was just that observant. His dark brown eyes were almost black and, whenever we were in the same room, I felt their weight against my skin like a physical caress.
I stepped wrong as I went down the stairs and had to grab the railing. Damn, I had to stop thinking about Alexander Dimitriades and focus on walking or I would end up with a broken neck. I forced myself to concentrate solely on navigating the steps in the dark hallway and nothing else.
