The Craving

Chapter 4

November 5, 1864

It feels like so long ago, but in reality little time has passed since my transformation, since my father killed me. It was barely a month past that Damon and I tried to save Katherine's life, and her blood saved ours. Barely a month since I was a living, warm-blooded human, who sustained himself on meals of meat and vegetables, cheese and wine-and who slept in a feather bed, with clean linen sheets.

Yet it feels like a lifetime, and by some definitions, I suppose it is.

But just as quickly as my fortunes turned after New Orleans, leaving me to live as a vagrant in a rocky hollow in the park, here I am at a proper desk under a leaded window, a thick rug at my feet. How quickly I am slipping back into human ways!

The Sutherlands seem like a kind family. I picture tempestuous Bridget and her long-suffering older sister as mirror versions of Damon and myself. I never appreciated how harmless Damon's and my father's fights were back when they were just about horses and girls. I was always terrified one of them would say or do something that would end forever what semblance of a family we had left.

Now that my father is dead and my brother and I are . . . what we are, I realize how much more serious things can get, and how simple and easy life was before.

I shouldn't even stay here, even tonight. I should sneak out the window and flee to my place of exile. Being enfolded in the warm, living embrace of the Sutherland family for any amount of time, no matter how short, is dangerous and deceptive. It makes me feel like I could almost belong to the world of humans again. They don't realize they have welcomed a predator into their midst. All that would need to happen is for me to lose control once, to slip from my room right now and take my fill of one of them, and their lives would be filled with tragedy-just as mine became when Katherine arrived on our doorstep.

Family has always been the most important thing to me, and I would be lying if I didn't admit how comforting it is to be among people who love one another, if only for one borrowed night. . . .

For the first time since I'd left New Orleans, I rose with the sun, intent to slip out of the mansion and disappear into the morning mists before anyone came to wake me. But it was hard to resist the pull of crisp linen sheets, the soft mattress, the shelves of books, and the painted ceiling of my room.

After admiring the fresco of winged cherubs above me, I pushed off the soft covers and forced myself out of bed. Every muscle in my body rippled under my pale skin, full of strength and Power, but every bone in my rib cage showed. The Sutherlands had taken my clothes to be washed but hadn't given me a nightshirt. I enjoyed the feeling of morning sunlight on my flesh, the glowing warmth fighting with the chill in the room. Though I'd never forgive Katherine for turning me into a monster, I was grateful at least for her lapis lazuli ring that protected me from the sun's otherwise fatal rays.

The window was open the slightest bit, ushering a cool breeze into the room and setting the diaphanous curtains aflutter. Though temperature no longer affected me, I closed the window, locking the latch with some puzzlement. I could have sworn all the windows had been shut tight last night. Before I had time to further consider the matter, the tell-tale thump of a heartbeat sounded close by, and after a light knock, the door cracked open. Lydia stuck her head in, then immediately blushed and looked away from my nearly naked form.

"Father was afraid you might try to leave without saying good-bye. I was sent to make sure you didn't charm a maid into helping you."

"I'm hardly in a state to sneak away," I said, covering my chest with my arms. "I will need my pants to do that."

"Henry will be up shortly with your trousers, freshly pressed," she said, keeping her eyes on the ground. "In the meantime, there is a bathing room just down the hall to the right. Please feel free to refresh yourself, and then come down to breakfast."