[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

inconvenient every once in awhile.
The vivid images, flashes of terror and anguish, coursed richly beneath his vision. Most lavish,
his extraordinary ability to execute the perfect plan and get away without anyone finding out. What
magnificent intellect he possessed. Superior and invincible to the common species.
Often, it was unfulfilling coexisting with such simpletons. How had he managed it so long? It
seemed an eternity that he had been damned to walk amongst these contemptible, worthless creatures.
Save for Alexandria. His Elisha, born again. What tenacious, unrequited fantasy he found in
her.
Exercising his strength last night had been glorious, but the climatic ending would have been
twice as delicious had she been a more willing participant.
In time, yes, in time she would remember. His Lissy would return. Alex would understand the
great power of Elisha s spirit clinging to her soul. Soon she would understand clearly that she belonged
solely to him.
How could she think he would sit idly by and allow her to defile his greatness with another?
Elisha had made him and now he would prove his worth to her with this icon she released for play. She
would glory at the mastery he had cultivated. The prowess he had perfected. The promises he d kept in
her honor.
Vincente ran his hands lovingly over the ridges of his well-tuned, muscular stomach. Touching
his perfection brought a prick of electricity to pulse beneath his flesh. Breathing in shallow breathes, he
writhed with self-important ecstasy.
Anne Leland 52
Yes, he would be with Alexandria soon enough, and he would caress her broken spirit. He
would dry the water from her eyes, hold her, make her understand, never let her go again. He would
give up his cherished immortality to be whole again.
A thunderous beast churned within the darkness, unleashing a force of nature that caused the
room to surge with an unearthly glow. Vincente was surprised at his desire to feed again so soon.
Boiling hunger rushed through his crackling veins, heating the anatomy as strong, lustful insanity
surfaced.
His nostrils flared with expectancy. The proud hunter. The glorious stag, full of need. Time to
fill his insatiable thirst.
Must have the kill. The taste of victim s fear filled him with such gratification and substance.
Kill to survive. Kill to pleasure. Torture to survive. Sweet the taste in his mouth.
Their screams were like melodic symphonies. The ultimate conquest. Releasing the poison at
the precise point of kill to mix the ebb of life force into the cold rich emptiness of death.
Sweat trickled from Vincente s pours in anticipation of the hunt. He would need to go quickly.
Donegal 53
Chapter Four
March 7, 1172  Ireland
The bricks of the cottage were a cool relief against the burning heat of his cravings. Vincente sat
in the shade of the small home, methodically sharpening his dagger.
Steel. Stone. Steel. Stone. The short blade rolled smoothly against the rock. Metal grating in
languishing strokes, violent in the crystal silence of the fresh spring day.
He watched Elisha with the boy across the field, playing carelessly, picking wild flowers and
herbs from the damp grass. It would be so easy to overcome them, take the razor sharp point of the
dagger and slice it mercilessly into her soft porcelain flesh. Watch the velvet crush of blood spurt forth
the gust of vitality from her veins. Matting in and blending with the lovely brandished locks of hair until
there would be no way to distinguish the flow from the wild mane of red.
Vincente twisted the obligated charge of contemplation from his mind. His heart resisted the vile
thoughts slashing through the tremulous rage.
He was in love with the witch. Somehow, it had happened. He knew it to be so.
Steel. Stone. Steel. Stone. Cold steel. Sweet revenge. Rough stone. Raw desire.
With every sound of the blade, his confusion intensified and echoed back. Every day, every
moment, love and desire grew healthier, taking on a life of their own.
He had been unable to control it. Elisha sparkled like the dew of morn, glowing radiant,
shimmering in the bright sun. He longed to stretch his hand across her perfect gleam of brilliance. To
bask in the brightness of her flame, exploring every curve.
He stroked the blade beneath his hand, feeling the flesh of her swelling breasts beneath the saber
edge. Vincente saw her reaction to his touch. She responded in startled pleasure to the sensation, not
understanding the capacity of his power, turning wildly to find the source of her distraction.
No woman had ever brought forth such a potent counteraction in him. He hardened from just the
mere sight of her indulgence from his projected touch.
Watching her in the field brought to mind the wistful words of a marauder s song.
La Cava was the first, who cast off her clothes. In the shadowy pool. Her body shone so fair
that like the sun, she eclipsed all others there.
La Cava Elisha was his La Cava no difference, she eclipsed all others along with all form of
Anne Leland 54
rational thought. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]