Issue 1
Excerpt from Prophecy: Child of Light
The brightness of the light was blinding and her hand came up instinctively to protect her eyes. The door closed behind her and she breathed a sigh of relief as the wall dulled the feeling of the people in the club. She paused when she sensed that she wasn't alone.
Someone flushed a toilet and then fell out of the cubicle door into a heap on the floor.
Her head cocked to one side as the girl struggled to her feet. The girl stared at her with wide eyes and then stumbled towards her, wobbling on her feet as she leaned heavily against the row of washbasins.
Prophecy focused on the sound of her heartbeat, licking her lips as it pounded erratically, the staccato rhythm calling to her, urging her to feed.
“You're pretty,” the girl said in an accent that sounded like the people in the television programs Prophecy had watched back at the mansion. American.
She didn't say anything, just moved slightly as the girl reached a hand out towards her face. Her eyes were on it immediately, her Hunger begging her to bite into it and drink her delicate blood down. She needed to sate it. Valentine wouldn't feed her for ages. Besides, she didn't need him to feed her. She could feed herself. She frowned and told herself that Valentine had promised to feed her as soon as possible. She didn't need to eat the girl. It would only make the situation worse.
She stared at the girl's neck, watching the pulse that was visible in her jugular.
It wouldn't be the same. Whatever Valentine could offer her wouldn't be the same as drinking from the girl. Her claws extended against her will as her hunting instincts began to take control, whispering words of temptation to her as she struggled against it.
He didn't have to know.
She needed to feed her Hunger. Bottled blood wasn't going to sate it.
“I like your style,” the girl drawled and tried to stand without the assistance of the washbasins. “Pale and innocent. Guys dig that.”
Prophecy cocked a brow. Pale and innocent. Pale maybe, but she wasn't innocent. None of her kind could be considered that.
She lost control the moment the girl turned to face the mirror, her eyes widening when she saw only herself reflected in the glass. Not waiting for the girl to turn to face her, and not giving her a chance to scream, Prophecy snapped her neck. She was too weak and desperate for blood to deal with the struggle the girl would have put up.
It would be easier this way.
When the girl began to fall, she grabbed her around the waist and held her tightly. She sank her teeth deep into her victim's neck, her eyes fixing on the mirror and watching the twin puncture marks appear on the dead girl's skin. The sight of it drove her on, making the blood taste even sweeter as it intoxicated her. A rivulet of red ran down over her victim's collarbone and she held the girl tighter, digging her claws in. She drank deeper, desperate for the pleasure that came from the fresh blood. It was delicious. She felt as though she'd been starving since her first kill. Now that she'd found the remedy for her craving, she didn't want to relinquish it until there was nothing left for her to drink. She bit down harder. Her head began to swim and she felt her hunger abating.
She blinked when she looked into the mirror again and everything seemed to sway and spin.
When the door opened, she hazily sensed something familiar and dropped the girl. She tried to wipe the blood off her lips but missed and instead watched her hand as it moved slowly in front of her. It looked fuzzy and the more she tried to get it to focus the worse her head felt.
She barely registered the tight grip on her arm before she was spun on the spot and her knees collapsed beneath her.
Valentine growled and caught her other arm, forcing her to stand. She beamed up at him, her eyelids heavy and her lips and chin covered in blood.
He tightened his grip on her upper arms until she pulled a face of discomfort and then he tugged her close to him.
“There are places to get blood. There are sources in every city where it is untraceable. But you have to do this! You are worse than a child!” His eyes narrowed, reflecting the anger in his voice. She flinched away, making a small whining noise while trying to prise his fingers off her. He towered over her, increasing his grip until he saw the pain reflected in her eyes. “Even children know the rules!”
He should have let go of her then, he knew that he should have, but he suddenly found that he didn't want to. He'd gotten dangerously close to her and now he could smell the blood on her. A feeling of desire began to grow in the pit of his stomach, running through every inch of him and taking command even as he tried to shut it down.
She broke free of his grasp but was back in it again before she'd even had the chance to move a foot.
“I'm not a child!” She retaliated and his fingers closed tightly around her arms again as he stared into her eyes. They moved over her, hunger burning in him as he ran them down her body and back up again.
“You really aren't.”
She stilled in his grasp, her eyes becoming wide at first as she caught his meaning and then drooping again as the moment of recognition passed and the pleasure of the feed fogged her brain.
Her flesh felt so warm under his fingers. The borrowed heat from the blood and the alcohol made her even more alluring than she had been in the cemetery. He pushed her away, wanting to shut out the desire he felt for her. A deeper sensation coiled in the pit of his stomach, spreading into his chest and drawing him to her as she stood before him with a drunken smile on her face. She was too tempting right now and he was too weak to resist if she made a move.
He looked down into her eyes and stepped towards her again. He licked his lips at the same time as she cleaned hers of blood. He wished it were his tongue doing that, not hers.
He shook his head in an attempt to clear it of such ideas and then found his eyes drawn back to her. She closed her eyes and smiled. He could see she still took intense pleasure in the kill. It wasn't the alcohol that was making her this way. The taste of fresh blood straight from the body had a profound effect on her, one that she didn't bother to hide.
His breathing became heavy while he looked at her and she opened her eyes to reveal their emerald depths to him. She had changed, her vampire guise making her even harder to resist. His chest heaved and he stared at her, unable to draw his eyes away no matter how much he tried. He wanted to reach out a lone finger and swipe the blood off her lower lip. He wanted to let her lick it clean. He wanted to taste the blood in a kiss that he knew was forbidden.
He barely kept control as his eyes switched and his fangs tried to descend.
Finding the strength, he turned away from her and grabbed her wrist, yanking her along behind him while he strode towards the door.
He was foolish to have waited so long before moving. The hunter may have realised where they were and it would be difficult to see him in amongst the crowd in the club. He shouldn't have let her get to him. He should have kept his mind off blood and on the business of getting safely to the hotel without being followed.
He shouldn't have wanted to kiss her.
PRICE: $4.99
This Issue
Archives
Links
All Rights Reserved © Felicity Heaton
All written content on this site, the html code, cover images and the design/layout of the site is copyright of Felicity Heaton. Ebook content and excerpts are copyright of the Felicity Heaton. Reuse is strictly prohibited. Redistribution of ebooks is strictly prohibited.