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A Turn of Tides

Page 3

   


I slammed my fist against the side of the door, denting the metal.
Cursing beneath my breath, I staggered to the bathroom and gripped the edges of the sink, breathing deeply and staring at myself in the mirror.
I looked paler than I’d ever seen myself before.
My green eyes looked darker somehow.
I was used to vampires’ eyes being brighter and sharper in color.
Not mine.
If anything, they had dulled.
It was as if a haze had misted them.
I was frightening myself with my own reflection.
I ducked my head over the sink and splashed cold water onto my face before drying myself with a towel.
I’ll feel better if I can just hold out a few days.
Maybe this is something to do with my mixed blood, and I just need more time to adjust than others.
I repeated this hope to myself in my head over and over as I resumed my seat in the control room.
A flashing on the navigation board caught my eye.
We were approaching the shore.
No.
I slowed the submarine and, turning it round in the opposite direction, headed back toward the open sea.
I tried to push aside thoughts of the humans who might have been walking along the beach, their sweet blood so easily accessible beneath their swim suits… I shook my head vigorously.
Thinking about it only made the hunger in my stomach roar louder.
The memory of Yasmine lying in a pool of blood on our living room floor was still fresh in my mind.
As much as the beast within me was screaming to kill again, I wasn’t sure that I could take another aftermath of guilt.
And I feared that, if I allowed myself to make a habit of this, my body might never learn to accept animal blood.
I wondered if it might be possible to train my body.
If I starved it to such an extent that it would consume literally anything I put in my mouth just to survive… I kept trying to reassure myself that things would work out.
That I wouldn’t spend the last of my days alone in this submarine.
That I would learn to stomach animal blood.
But as the hours passed, I found myself less and less in control of my thoughts.
The only thing I could think about was the humans I imagined walking along the nearby beach.
Until finally my body took on a life of its own.
My brain shut down, and instinct took over.
I felt barely even conscious as my hands reached for the controls and turned the vessel back toward the shore.
The next few hours were a blur.
I was only vaguely aware of the sun burning into my skin as I beached on the shore.
My senses were too overwhelmed by the feel of soft skin beneath my fangs, and then the hot rush of blood gushing down my throat.
Pure, sweet blood.
The screams surrounding me, the hands trying to pull me off, all of it faded into the background.
The only thing that existed in the world at that moment was the human trapped in my arms and the ecstasy coursing through my veins.
The feeling of complete satisfaction.
Of strength so great that I might lift a mountain.
Strength that I could barely contain.
I didn’t even recall how I broke away from the crowds on the beach and made it back to the submarine.
Nor did I recall speeding away from the shore.
It was only hours later, once the sea had darkened, that the fog in my brain began to lift, the darkness in my eyes fading.
And I realized what I’d done.
I relived all the horror I’d experienced when I’d killed Yasmine.
And now I had the weight of two lives on my shoulders.
I couldn’t even remember, in my mad frenzy, whom I’d killed.
Whether it was a man, woman, perhaps even a child.
If I can’t even trust myself floating in a submarine in the depths of the ocean, what is to become of me?
Chapter 2: Ben
Now that I was temporarily satiated, I was determined to distract myself before the next wave of hunger came on.
Once I was miles away from shore, I stopped the engine and allowed the submarine to float in the waters.
I stalked around the submarine, walking up and down the passageway outside, trying to think what I could possibly distract myself with.
Then I remembered the map I’d brought with me.
Mona’s map that depicted all the gates into this realm.
I searched for my backpack and rummaged through it.
I sat at a table in the galley, spreading it out before me.
I stared at the map, pressing a finger against the gate that appeared to be nearest to me.
South of Chile.
I didn’t know what the purpose of my visit there would be, but I hoped that, if I was distracted with a specific goal, the bloodlust would be a little easier to control.
Perhaps I wouldn’t lose myself so easily if my mind was occupied.
I spent the next few hours navigating toward it.
It was early morning by the time I arrived, just before the sun began peeking above the horizon.
I stopped the submarine half a mile before reaching the sand and left the control cabin.
I grabbed the largest cloak I could find—with the longest sleeves and hood—and tucked it beneath my arm.
Then, climbing through the hatch and locking it behind me, I slipped into the waters, careful to hold the map above the waves with one hand.
I breathed deeply as I exited the water and began walking along the sand.
I looked up and down, relieved that there was no sign of human life.
What appeared to be a dense forest lined the beach.
I took a closer look at the map again.
I’d have to be fast.