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breakfast.
Static crackled, followed by a  Yes, sir.
Cyrus smiled at me, but it was clear he d wasted much of his energy getting
to the door. I made a move to help him, but he refused me.  So you want to
know about the New Year?
I did, but his weakened state worried me.  You fed fromZiggy . Why are you
having such a hard time?
 I didn t feed enough. I didn t want to anger you, he said, supporting
himself on the heavy wooden arm of the sofa.  As you get older, you ll find
you need more blood to function. It makes life rather difficult if you have to
go a day or two without feeding.
I shifted into doctor mode.  If you don t feed, will you die?
 Not right away. He eased onto the couch and patted the seat beside him.
 But it s very uncomfortable after a while.
I joined him, fitting familiarly to his side.  How many days has it been for
you?
 The last time I drank my fill was the night we first met. He kissed my
forehead.  I ve been a bit distracted since.
And he hadn t fed tonight because of what I d uncovered as I d snooped
through his brain. To assuage my guilt, I changed the topic.  You were going
to tell me about theNewYear .
 Oh, yes.A fitting topic, actually. You remember what I told you about my
father?
I nodded. How could I have forgotten?
Cyrus seemed to draw strength from talking about his father.  Though he
hasn t been a vampire much longer than Ihave, the blood of the elders he
drained seems to have sped up his blast, what s the word for it?
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 Metabolism? I supplied.
 Yes, exactly.Within fifty years of turning, he needed to feed from two,
sometimes three bodies a night. It was too hard to keep his identity concealed
for long. We moved from village to village, but suspicion followed us
everywhere. Father discovered that if he ingested vampire blood, his hunger
was sated longer.
 For a while, it was easy. I would turn them, and Father would feed from
them. We left them with enough blood to live, but we didn t provide them with
the guidance they needed to survive. We didn t expect so many of them to last
as long as they did.
Clarence entered without knocking, but Cyrus didn t acknowledge him.  Carrie,
would you be so kind?
I poured him a glass from the decanter Clarence handed me, then returned to
the couch.  If your father kept making vampires, there would be a lot more of
them by now. What stopped him?
Cyrus didn t answer until he d gulped down the first glass and handed it back
to Clarence for a refill.  Fear, I suppose. My father was a brave man, but he
wasn t stupid. I think he knew that someday, one of his fledglings would do to
him what he d done to his sire.
 Now my father feeds only once a year. In the meantime, he goes into a sort
of hibernation. The day will come when he can walk the earth again, but until
then, I serve him at theNewYear .
 Walk the earth again? What does that mean? All this information overwhelmed
me.  Where does he live?
With a knowing smile, he waved his index finger at me.  It s a heavily
guarded secret. For the time being, all we need to do is make sure Father is
fed every year.
 Cyrus, that doesn t make sense. You re weak after a few days without
feeding. If your father s metabolism has accelerated beyond that, how can he
survive drinking blood only once a year?
 Oh, he doesn t just drink their blood. A cruel spark of the Cyrus I
recognized returned to his eyes. The blood he d consumed flushed his cheeks.
 He takes their very essence. Carrie, my father is the vampire other vampires
fear most. My father is the Soul Eater.
Fifteen
Consummation
Cyrus sproclamation shook me to the core. Once I was sure he d fully
recovered from his fast, I left him alone to finish his reading or whatever
the hell he did when he was locked away in his study.
The Soul Eater.Though I d never heard the name, it struck fear into my heart.
Cyrus had given me a brief rundown of the New Year s festivities. They d
picked January thirtieth because of its proximity to Bride s Day, an ancient
Celtic holiday celebrating the young Sun God s courtship of the Virgin
Goddess.
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 It s all about innocence, Cyrus had said smugly.  The point of the New
Year s festivities is to choose someone with a pure soul and turn them. When
Father kills them, instead of a frothy afterlife of clouds and harps, their
souls have nowhere to go. Father collects those souls, and they sustain him
for another year.
What would it be like to be forever trapped in another person s body? I
prayed I d never find out. I had yet another incentive to stay on Cyrus s good
side. Not that staying on his good side would be any trouble after sunup, if
his enthusiasm of the night before was any indication. I tried, and failed, to
keep my hormones in check as dawn drew closer.
It was 6:00 a.m. when I finally decided to go to him. My senses were so
attuned to his that I knew I d find him in his bedroom. Occasionally, a thrum
of anticipation shivered through the blood tie, but I couldn t tell if it was
from his or my own desire.
I didn t change or put on any makeup. I didn t want to appear too eager. When
I was stripped of my clothing, a cool facade was the only armor I d have left.
Cyrus s room was much different tonight than it had been on my previous
visit. The sitting room was dark and cold. No fire had been lit. Cyrus was
nowhere to be seen, but the door to his bedroom stood slightly open, and warm,
flickering candlelight spilled out.
If I d had any illusions about my purpose for being there, I would have been
put abruptly in my place. Still, a gentle seduction would have been nice. No
one likes to know they re a sure thing.
My heart pounding, from trepidation or anticipation I didn t know, I pushed
the door wide.
The canopied bed, cream-colored furnishings and wrought-iron accents all
appeared the same. I noted with relief that no heavily sedated pet lay on the
bed. The bedclothes were turned down, and black rose petals had been sprinkled
liberally over the ivory duvet. Apparently tonight was all about me. I would
have been more convinced if he d bothered to acknowledge me when I entered.
Cyrus sat at his small writing desk beside the window, head bent in
concentration. His hair was tied back and he wore his black silk robe. He was
so absorbed in his task that I had to clear my throat to get him to look at
me.
He didn t lift his face, but I heard the smile in his voice.  I ll be with
you in a moment, Carrie. Please, make yourself comfortable.
 You make it sound like we re about to close on a house. Was that my voice,
tight and nervous as it scraped from my throat?
 In a way, we are closing a type of deal. Doesn t this officially buy your
little friend s life? Unadulterated excitement radiated through the blood
tie. There was no tenderness from him, only dark, perverse lust. The intensity
of it should have frightened me, but his desire overrode my fear and left me
trembling in its wake.
I watched him fold the sheet of paper and noticed his hands shook. He was
struggling for self-control, I realized. In a purely antagonistic gesture, I
conjured a vivid picture of us in my mind, of myself naked, on my hands and
knees as he pushed into me from behind, head thrown back in pleasure.
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He hissed as the image materialized in his brain, and his back straightened.
I heard him take a few deep breaths before he stood.  You have a very creative
imagination, Carrie.
With the deadly smile of an advancing predator, he moved toward me.His robe,
open to the waist as usual, slithered against him like living skin in the
candlelight.  Don t you think this would have been more interesting? [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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