Walk Into The Light - Shadows of the Night 6

Chapter 31

Hi,

This week I've got a question for you. If there was a way to summarize this chapter in one sentence and/or catchy phrase, what would you go for? I have something in mind, but I'm curious about what you'd choose... Let me know if something comes to mind!

One more thing: I'll be one a one week holiday, so chances of me updating next Sunday are close to zero. As always, I'll try to make it up to you by updating a great, (maybe) longer chapter in two weeks! I'll try my best, promise! :-)

This week's song: Jef Neve & Noémie Wolfs – Frozen (Madonna cover)

Lara

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Chapter 31

I stared at the city with the eyes of a vampire, reaching out again. The busy rumble of the city, the kaleidoscopic movement of darkness and light lay before me as they had been before.

Whatever that vaguely familiar shiver was, I had lost my grip on it.

Instead Alexander's overbearing presence pressed against my own, the power of the grave calling to me with the soft persuasion of a psychedelic drug.

"This is what we are," he said.

Alexander's voice rasped against my ears – its sound as different as the nightly vision I now had as a vampire. "We do lust for blood. And other things. No matter what you believed in the past, we are. We do feel alive. Sometimes perhaps more than the living."

His presence was overwhelming, sweetly claustrophobic, like being stuck in an electrified elevator. He was way too close for me to feel comfortable.

I twisted and turned, finding myself caged in by his arms and the railing at my back. I needed space. I needed time to think, dammit.

"This is not what I wanted. And you know it. You must have known it," I said.

Blue shadows swirled in his eyes, accompanied by a swift surge in his vampiric powers. The dead weight of the grave tore at and called to me, coming to life as I watched.

"Life is not filled with pleasant walkways we can choose, Anna. It is a bumpy, meandering road stacked with seemingly insurmountable hurdles and shadowy forks. Sometimes one does not have the luxury of choosing. Somebody else will make the decision for you. Yes, you are a vampire and yes, you do need blood in order to survive. However, does that change who you are in essence?"

I opened my mouth, taking in a lungful of air that burned all the way down my throat. There was no longer air I could breathe. What he said found resonance with me, but it didn't make things easier.

I wanted, needed to hate him for what he did. What else was there left for me?

"I need space, like, right now," I said.

He leaned forward. "This is what you are now. It is also what I am and have always been. Accept it. And accept me."

I shook my head, shoving against him. "Don't try to make this about you being the freaking head vamp! That's not what this is about!"

He gripped my hair at the bottom of my neck, holding it tightly. My eyes went to his, finding them in motion.

"Is it not? After all that you have seen, does it still bother you that I am a vampire? When you were still a witch, did you cringe at the thought of touching my skin because it was cold? Tell me!"

He was wrong again. Oh so wrong. As a witch I had watched him with weary, fearful eyes, wanted to hate him for what and who he was. And all the while I wanted to touch him, perhaps because of who and what he was.

What did that say about me?

The blue in his eyes was in motion, a rough, deep dark sea in turmoil.

"This is not about who or what you are. It's about the fact that you turned me. So, if Alexander the Great can't stomach it that one of his vamps doesn't do exactly what he wants, it's not my problem. I'm not telling you anything. You can go and enter my mind. Pick the information yourself, I don't care!"

I stared into his eyes, which were disturbingly vibrant. And yet, they were just eyes. Not the eyes of a...

Then I made the connection.

"That's it, isn't it? You no longer can!" The corners of my mouth lifted into a smile. "Now that I'm a vamp you can't get into my head anymore. So, how does it feel, being the one not getting any answers?"

He was staring at me, fingers tightly fisted in my hair, and he was way too close. My back was bent in an uncomfortable position and the world was going to hell anyway – and I didn't care.

"Does it burn that, for once, you can't just walk in and pick whatever information you need? Does it-"

He bent down and crushed his mouth against mine.

The world spiraled out of control the moment his lips touched mine. Shock raced through me like an acidic drug and I opened my mouth – to do what? I didn't know.

Suddenly our fronts were pressed together and his other hand was on my back. It was not a gentle kiss. It was a kiss that carried a power and force made by a war strategist demanding complete surrender.

All I could do was take it.

The power of the grave enveloped us like a dark silken blanket, dancing in circles around us. My skin felt electrified and vibrant wherever he touched.

Alive. So much alive.

I gripped his upper arms, fingers buried in his shirt for dear life. The need to come up for air was overpoweringly strong and yet I was caught in a cage of sensations – wanting to stop, but unable to.

Then he broke the kiss, and his mouth wandered to my neck. The sound of blood rushing in my ears drowned out the noise concert around us and time stilled.

Fangs grazed skin, followed by a long, slow lick above my carotid artery.

Then he broke away from me.

"You desire answers? You shall have them," he said softly. "Yes, Anna, it does hurt, but not where you believe."