Reborn to Bite (Vampire Shadows Book 1) (2 page)

Ignoring the jab of rocks under her feet, she recounted events on her fingers as small tremors ran through her hands. If Chad hadn't been in her bed with his "we're just friends" bimbo when Sabine got home from work – and why didn't he have a job, anyway? – then Sabine wouldn't have gone out to that party with Regina and Michaela.

Oh, God. I hope they're all right.

She gritted her teeth and kicked a rock. Her toe stung for a second, but the pain didn't even compare to the churning in her gut. Even having a black belt in Tae Kwon Do hadn't helped when the vampire and his gang ambushed her outside her apartment. She'd been helpless to do anything but obey when he told her to follow and get on that altar for their sick little experiment.

Sabine looked at the symbols the vampires had forced Regina and Michaela carve into her hands to get her soul back. She thought about the pain of the ceremony and the shock of learning that her friends were real witches.

They weren't to blame though. He was. The smooth-talking, blood-sucking monster. She could still remember that evil grin on Neville's face.

She looked up to see she had arrived at Conzelman Road. The sound of footfalls and tinny techno music echoed in her ears. Anticipation made her quiver as a blonde woman approached in the twilight, jogging through the fog and humming to the music in her headphones. Sabine looked to either side. A small group of tourists stood at the outlook point further down the hill. No cars were coming. In the twilight, she could see them all as though the sun still lit the scene. Would they see? She'd have to risk it.

Heat waves flowed off the approaching blonde like an aura; and she glowed with the warmth of the blood flowing in her veins. Sabine whimpered as she felt the song of the blonde woman's pulse pounding in the air to the beat of the music. Fangs aching, Sabine stumbled forward. She fought the pull, knowing what the instinct would draw her to.

The blonde slowed as she came closer, regarding Sabine in the darkness. She pulled off her headphones, a genuine look of concern on her angelic face. "Are you okay?"

Sabine couldn't fight the pull toward the thrumming pulse on the blonde's neck; the siren call of the damned. She reached forward, grasping for the blonde. "I'm sorry!"

"For what?" the blonde answered, reaching out to help Sabine.

Sabine grasped the woman and spun her around, turning the woman's head sideways. Sabine's hand muffled the woman's scream as her fangs sank into the soft tissue over the blonde's pulse point.

Bliss.

Sabine moaned as she pulled the woman behind the guardrail at the side of the road. The hot blood streaming from the wound seemed to make everything right in the world. Like magic, Sabine's aches started to wash away.

Drink the woman dry
, the thirst whispered.

I'm not a killer!
The cold reality of what Sabine was doing sickened her, and she pulled away.

The thirst compelled her to give the wounds a parting lick.
Waste nothing
, the voice in her head whispered.

Sabine watched the wounds close.
Amazing
, she thought. Her body ached for more, but she knew that taking more might kill this woman. The blonde fainted, going limp in Sabine's arms.

"I'm so sorry," Sabine said, setting the woman down in the dirt behind the guardrail. The people at the nearby scenic overlook spots seemed unaware of her attack.

Sabine stared at the blood stains on the blonde's shirt and sucked in a shaky breath through her fangs. She could hear the woman's steady breathing and thready heartbeat.
Still alive
.

Feeling a sudden need to run from what she'd done, Sabine followed the road toward the Golden Gate Bridge. She found a secluded spot in the bushes where she could wait for the sky to darken a little more.

The air shifted, bringing a scent of cologne and sweat. Sabine looked down the trail that wound under the bridge, and spotted the heat-aura blowing toward her, carrying the scent. She focused and saw a man hiding in the bushes, snapping pictures with a telephoto lens. She looked down the hill where the lens was pointed, and saw a group of female joggers in stretch pants under the lights of the bridge.

Drink. Kill.

Sabine shuddered, fighting the impulse; but gave in and started walking toward her next victim. He didn't seem to hear her approaching. The last few yards between them were covered with thick bushes, and she worried that the bushes would rustle and alert him to her approach.

The thirst was impatient.
Jump him from here!

Sabine jumped, amazed that she cleared so much ground as she toppled the man. She straddled him as he lay on his back in the dirt.

"Hey! What the hell!" He yelled, fighting to push her off.

She pinned his arms at his side, straddling him as he tried to buck her. She felt something hard pressing against her, and almost jumped off him. Then something made her grind down on him instead.

He stilled, taking in a deep breath.

She rocked forward, holding herself against his lap even though the thought of contact with the evidence of his arousal over watching joggers through a telephoto lens revolted her. She let her dirty dark-brown hair fall around his face. He shivered, pushing up against her.

"You like that?" she asked.

He nodded, and Sabine felt his thoughts. He worried that she was some homeless woman, but started fantasizing about how she was really a supermodel on a wicked bender. He couldn't make out her face in the darkness, and his eyes hadn't adjusted from staring at the joggers in the lights of the bridge.

Sabine's stomach roiled, half from hunger and half from the perverted images she saw flashing through the man's mind. The shock of hearing and seeing his thoughts made her pause, but the thirst drove her forward. She nuzzled his neck, finding his pulse point. He moaned as her mouth closed over the side of his neck. Her fangs sank in, and she felt his sharp intake of breath.

She bent his neck back and pulled more blood from the wound, pinning him with her weight.

He took another breath to yell for help.
Oh God, what's she doing? She's killing me!

Sabine covered his mouth with her hand, smothering his planned yell. She held him as he thrashed until lack of blood weakened him. She licked the wound until it closed and stared at the spot where her bite should have left a mark. Nothing marred the skin, amazing her. She dropped him back on the ground and whispered "sorry" as he collapsed, barely conscious but alive.

Sabine shivered and tried to calm herself as she approached the bridge, blinking and shaking her head. She had never sensed other people's thoughts before, except Neville's. This time was different. The thoughts of everyone she passed seemed to float on the wind.

She tried to look inconspicuous as she walked across the bridge. The other evening pedestrians cast glances her way and tried to avoid her.

Dirty wretch. Homeless. I hope she doesn't beg for money.

The thoughts flowed into her mind. She winced and shook her head, wishing the voices would stop. She tried to make sense of what was happening, but that just made the voices louder.

Nut-job. Insane. Schizophrenic. Why do they let people like that out on the street?

She glared at the strangers as she fought the urge to attack them, guilt washing over her even as the shock of hearing their thoughts made her shiver.
I'm as bad as they think I am. Worse.

At the south side of the bridge, a man stood by a taxi at the back of the gift shop parking lot. The smoke from his cigarette flowed over the van that blocked him from view by passersby. His pulse sang to Sabine. She attacked as he was snuffing out his cigarette. She pinned him face-down on the ground and drank a mouthful before gagging on the taste of tar and nicotine.

"God that's gross," she closed the wound with a lick, nearly retching. She spat the foul taste from her mouth and hovered close to the man's face. "Do you know how bad smoking is for you? You need to quit. Seriously."

Before the man could respond, she pushed off his back and ran into the growing fog.

By the time she reached the Palace of Fine Arts, she felt raw with emotion, and tears streamed down her cheeks. She stopped to stare at the pond and the Greco-Roman architecture. She sat under a tree and took a ragged breath, fighting back a sob.

What have I become?

Fierce anger welled inside her. The looks on Regina and Michaela's faces haunted her.

She sighed and stared at the pond in front of the majestic dome, the water as dark as her thoughts. A hundred fluttering little avian heartbeats sang a chorus in her ears, pointing out all the ducks and various other birds. The water glittered, reflecting the building in a dazzling clarity she'd never seen before. Looking around, she saw passersby, the air around them shimmering with their body heat. She felt her heart beat again; once for every hundred beats of the people around her.

She wished she'd stayed in L.A. and hadn't moved here to find Doug. But she'd felt so alone after her parents had died. Not that her parents actually cared about her. She'd been struggling with what to do with her life. Now she knew. The vampires had given her a mission in her new undead life: kill all vampires.

Her fangs ached as she remembered all the old horror movies she used to watch with Doug. He had run out on her while watching one. Not that he was a wuss; he'd defended her countless times at school when they were kids. They had just been laughing at a scene. She'd leaned against him over the popcorn, and he'd gone spacey. She'd thought he'd wanted to kiss her, and she remembered realizing that she'd wanted to kiss him. Then he snapped out of it and jumped away. He never did explain why he'd left in such a hurry, and then distanced himself.

She stared as a homeless man walked up, his thoughts a confusing mix of anger over corporate control and the secret alien invasion conspiracy, wondering which one made drugs feel so good. When she watched old horror movies with Doug, she'd be afraid for guys like this homeless guy, alone with the monster. Didn't he know a monster was sitting in the dark less than twenty feet from him? He'd be the monster's next victim for sure. She watched his pulse and the waves of his body heat as he pulled cans and bottles from a trash bin and loaded up a plastic bag.

Feed.

Oh shut up.
She got up and trudged barefoot toward her apartment, wishing the vampires hadn't stolen her purse along with her boots. Would the bus drivers even let her on a bus looking like she did? She stopped at a newspaper box and stared at the date on the paper. November 7th. She'd been in the ground for a week.

A man with a little terrier turned the corner down the street and approached her. He had a chiseled jaw, broad shoulders, and short, dark hair. He wore a red sweater and blue jeans. She caught his scent on the wind, along with his thoughts; cologne and contentment. She didn't want to attack anyone else, but the thirst made her feet start moving on their own.

Feed.

No... please...
The street was oddly quiet in the fog. The man paused by a van as his dog sniffed a patch of planter around a street tree. The dog looked up and barked at her as she approached. She glared at it, and it whimpered once as she stared it down.

He thought she was a beggar. He said something she didn't hear. Her brain wasn't in charge.

The man was strong, and fought back. Sabine found herself using her martial arts skills as she flipped him into an arm lock. His neck ripped open as he struggled against her bite. She lapped at it, desperate to stop the flow. She drank, holding the man on the ground, face-down.

The poor guy passed out, finally allowing her to clean up the blood and close the wound. Her saliva erased the damage from his skin, as though the attack had never happened. But she knew it had.

He would know too.

Weren't vampires supposed to be able to erase memories? Use their vampire glamour to cloud people's perception? She'd missed the class on all that. The vamps had been too busy killing her. Sabine sat back on her heels and listened to his heartbeats as the dog stared at her. Guilt assailed her. She needed to know the man would be okay.

The man stirred, then moved to get up.

"I'm so sorry, Sir," Sabine mumbled. She stood and ran before he could respond.

The dog started barking as she turned the corner at the end of the block.

When Sabine turned back and hissed, she scared herself more than the dog, but the barking stopped. Apparently, she could make animals obey her. She wondered if that might come in handy someday as she ran down the next block.

Sabine climbed the stairs to the tenth floor of her building, hoping to avoid being seen. She reached into the fire extinguisher cabinet at the landing, and felt her spare key stuck inside with a wad of gum. She closed the cabinet and opened the stairwell door.

Chad looked up from where he sat in the hallway outside her apartment, his blond surfer-boy hair pulled into a short ponytail. A large duffel bag blocked her door, and a backpack sat next to Chad. He smelled like old gym socks and patchouli.

He stood as she walked closer. "Sabine? Where the hell have you been? The neighbors keep threatening to call the police on me for squatting. I realize how much you mean to me now, since Nina kicked me out. Why are you so dirty? Did you get into mud wrestling or something?"