Night's Kiss (Children of The Night 1)

"Brenna, don't… "

She whirled around, daring him to stop her as she took one bite, and then another.

She looked at him defiantly, and then, with a cry, she dropped the plate and ran to the sink as her stomach rebelled.

She stood over the sink, her eyes closed, her hands gripping the edge of the counter. "How could you do this to me?"

He drew her into his arms, held her tenderly as he wet a dish towel and wiped her face, then handed her a glass of water so she could rinse her mouth.

"It's not a bad way to live, Brenna."

"It is not living at all," she retorted, but there was no heat in her words now, only resignation and defeat. "I want you to free me," she said, "the way you did Lilly Anna."

"No! Dammit, don't ask that of me!"

"Yes. Please, Roshan, if you care for me at all, then you must do this for me. I haven't the courage to walk out into the sun. I cannot face the flames again."

He crushed her to him, holding her so tightly she could scarcely move. "Listen to me, my love. I know you're frightened. I know you're in pain. But give it time before you ask me to set you free. A few weeks, at least. Trust me, my love."

Burying her face in his chest, she groaned. "I cannot. It hurts too much."

"Then it's time to hunt."

It was her worst nightmare come true. Holding her hand in his, he took her out into the night. A short time later, she watched Roshan call a young man to him, watched as he held the young man in thrall. He drank briefly, then turned toward her.

"Drink, Brenna."

She shook her head. "I cannot."

"You are no longer human. Do not think like one. Listen to the beat of his heart. Let it call to you, and take what you need."

She thought to feel revulsion, horror, but the hunger within her was too strong to resist. The young man offered no resistance as she took him in her arms. His flesh was remarkably fragile; the blood welling from Roshan's bite was remarkably sweet to the taste, infusing her with heat and warmth.

She looked up, her gaze meeting Roshan's, and in her husband's eyes she saw love and approval and understanding.

And then she bent her head and drank again, until an image of what she was doing rose in her mind. With a wordless cry, she pushed the young man into Roshan's arms and fled down the street.

Roshan watched her go. His first instinct was to go after her, catch her, take her home.

But he didn't move, only stood there and let her go. In bringing her across, he had made the only choice he could. Even knowing she might hate him, even knowing she might never forgive him, it had been the only decision he could make. He stared down the deserted street. He knew only too well what she was thinking, knew the confusion she was feeling as her vampire powers expanded and everything she was seeing and hearing was filtered through her preternatural senses.

He knew how frightening it could be, the sense of disorientation when your body no longer felt like the one you were used to, when every sensation was magnified a thousand times. If she needed time alone, he would give it to her. But if she wasn't back long before dawn, he was going after her. They were linked by an exchange of blood now. There was no way she could hide from him. For as long as she lived, he would be able to find her. Whether she agreed or not, she would be back in his lair before dawn. He only hoped that, in saving her life, he hadn't lost her love forever.

Brenna ran aimlessly though the night, frightened and fascinated by what she saw and heard. Though the skies were dark, she saw everything clearly, as if the sun was high in the sky. There were no shades of gray, no shadows her eyes couldn't penetrate. Even at night, colors were bright and clear. Noise assailed her from every side— a baby's cry from four streets over, a car's engine backfiring, the creak of a house settling, water trickling from a drainpipe, and over all of it the beating of thousands of hearts. Smells she did not recognize filled her nostrils.

She ran tirelessly, amazed at her stamina. No wonder Anthony Loken had wanted the power of a vampire for himself! She felt as though she could run forever and never stop, never grow weary. Her body felt strong, yet lighter than air. Was that because she had shed her mortality, or because she had shed her soul?

The thought gave her pause and she slowed to a walk. Had she lost her soul? She considered that as she made her way across a bridge into a park. Why should she have lost her soul? She had done nothing wrong. She hadn't asked to be made a vampire, that decision had been made for her. She hadn't killed anyone. True, she had stolen a little blood, but surely she could be forgiven for that, if forgiveness was necessary…

She stopped beneath a weeping willow tree, lightly rolling one of the leaves between her thumb and forefinger, amazed at the nuances in the texture of the leaf. How beautiful the tree was! She could hear the whisper of each leaf, hear the sap running through the branches, the creak of the wood as the tree swayed in the breeze. Everything was different when absorbed through her enhanced senses. No wonder Roshan didn't want to give it up. Except for the blood part, being a vampire seemed a wonderful thing.

She picked up her pace until she was running again. Never in all her life had she felt so wonderful, so free! Laughter bubbled up inside her. Why had she made such a fuss earlier? Would she truly rather be dead now? How awful it would be if she could never again catch the scent of rain in the air, or dance in the silvery light of a full moon. And what of Roshan? Would she be happy, even in heaven, if he were not there to share it with her?

She slowed as she reached the end of the park, her earlier enthusiasm waning. She would never have a child now. It was the only true regret she had. Of course, she thought, rationalizing, if he had let her die, she wouldn't have been able to have a child, either.

Roshan. She had spared a thought for little else since the first time she had seen him outside her cottage, and he was all she could think of now. His scent was in her clothes, in her hair. His voice was a welcome echo in her mind. His kisses a memory she would never forget. Roshan. He had told her, in word and deed, that he loved her. And she knew, without doubt, that she loved him. Perhaps she had loved him from the moment his eyes met hers.

Suddenly, she wanted nothing more than to be in his arms, to feel his lips on hers, to hear his voice whispering that he loved her.

Laughing out loud, she turned and ran toward Roshan. Toward home.

He knew the moment she passed through the gates, felt it in the deepest part of his being. He wasn't sure why she had come back, but at least she was here, where she belonged, of her own free will.