Dead Perfect

Page 46

Drifting down towards the floor, she was overcome by a sudden fear that she wouldn’t be able to assume her own form again, that not only had she lost her soul, but her physical form as well, and that she was now doomed to spend the rest of her existence as some soulless, formless non-entity. Panic flowed through her and she felt herself bouncing aimlessly around the room, careening off the walls, the ceiling, the furniture. She would have screamed, had she been able.
“Shannah, relax!”
Ronan’s voice. She turned toward it, her panic growing.
“You must concentrate,” he said. “Listen to my voice. There’s nothing to be afraid of. Form an image of yourself in your mind, and your body will take on its own shape once again. Yes, yes, that’s right.”
She landed on her feet on the floor, hard. She blinked at Ronan, then ran her hands over her arms, her face, down her sides, remembering a scene from the remake ofThe Fly where an experiment had gone horribly wrong and the animal had emerged from the chamber inside out.
Were all her molecules and atoms back where they belonged?
Deciding that everything seemed to be in place, she breathed a sigh of relief. “I don’t think I like that very much.”
“It’s always frightening the first time.”
“Did the vampire who made you teach you how to do it?”
“Rosalyn?” He laughed bitterly. “No, she didn’t hang around long enough for anything like that.” It was the reason he hadn’t wanted Shannah to be left on her own. There was so much to learn, all of it easier to absorb and understand if you had someone to guide you, to tell you what to expect, both the good and the bad.
“Then how did you know you could do it?”
He shrugged. “Trial and error, as I recall. I had heard it was possible and one night I tried it.
Other things came easily after that. You can do almost anything you wish, Shannah. You have only to think it, picture it, and do it.”
She sat in the chair, one leg tucked beneath her. “But I’ll never see myself in a mirror again, will I?”
“No.” His gaze moved over her. “You are more beautiful than ever.”
“Do I look the same?”
“Yes, you are still Shannah. The changes are subtle. Your skin has a glow it didn’t have before.
Your eyes shine. Your hair is thicker, more lustrous than before. People who know you will think you look better than ever, but they won’t know why. Women will envy you. Men will look at you and want you. Your beauty will mesmerize them as will your words.” He paused. “Have you hunted?”
“No.”
“You’ve not fed in three nights?”
“I…I drank from a horse.”
“It didn’t satisfy you, did it?”
“No.”
“Animal blood will sustain you, but it will never satisfy you.”
“How do I shut out the barrage of sound when I’m outside? All those beating hearts and voices?
All that noise! And the smells! Things I never noticed before.”
“You can block all the unwanted sensory input. It may take a little practice, but you can do it.
You’re a strong vampire, Shannah.”
“I am? Why?”
“Because I’m an old vampire. Because you’re the first person I’ve ever brought across.” The first, he thought, and the last.
“If I go visit my parents, will they notice the differences in me?”
“Perhaps, but I doubt it.”
“They’ll certainly notice that I don’t eat, and that I sleep all day.” She shook her head. “It will never work.”
“Then go after dark, just for a visit. You’re not mama’s little girl any more. You don’t have to spend the night at home. You can see them as often as you wish, on your own terms.”
“Maybe. I don’t know.”
“You are a vampire now, Shannah. Like everything else in life, you can make the most of it, the best of it, or you can spend the rest of your existence dwelling on what you can’t do. The choice is yours.”
She nodded. He was right, of course. Attitude was everything. “Thank you for coming.”
Knowing he had been dismissed, he bade her good night and left the house.
Outside, he groaned low in his throat. It had been sheer hell to see her, to be close to her, and not touch her. Thanks to the paranormal glamour common to all vampires, she was more beautiful and more desirable than ever.
Quelling the urge to let his frustration rush out in an angry roar, he stormed through the night.
But he couldn’t outrun the anguish of knowing he had lost her forever.
She was willing to see him again the following night. It was, he thought, both a blessing and a curse to be with her—a blessing to see her, to hear her voice, inhale her sweet fragrance. A curse to know that in her heart she despised him.
“Let me teach you to hunt,” he suggested.
“No.”
“Shannah, you must learn. You cannot survive on the blood of animals indefinitely.” Seeing the refusal in her eyes, he said, “Please, just trust me one more time. I know you think you can’t do this, that it will be unpleasant and repulsive, but you’re only feeling that way because you think you should. That’s mortal thinking, and you’re no longer bound by mortal precepts.”
“Maybe you’re right.” She gazed into the fire blazing in the hearth. She had fed on a stray dog earlier. It had eased the hunger but as Ronan had said, it left her feeling unsatisfied. And she was already hungry again, if, indeed, you could call it hunger. It was a pain unlike anything she had ever known, as if dull knives were carving her insides.
“Will you come?” he asked. “Will you trust me one more time?”
With a curt nod, she followed him out into the night. A night that now seemed as bright as day.
With her preternatural sight, she could see farther than ever before, penetrate the drifting shadows, discern each individual thread in Ronan’s long black coat.
He took her to a distant part of the city. There was less noise here, fewer people, fewer distractions. Most of the businesses had closed for the night save for a couple of small night clubs. One catered to a strictly Goth crowd, the other to an older, more sedate clientele.
Ronan entered the Goth club.
Inside, Shannah looked around. Her first thought was that everyone in the place was a vampire.
The men and women milling about were all dressed in black. Some of the patrons wore long black cloaks. The women wore dark makeup, the men wore their hair long. Candles provided the only light in the room. The tables were covered with black cloths. Each table held a slender black vase containing a single blood-red rose. The music was dark and sensual, the heavy beat calling to something primal and earthy deep within her. A handful of couples swayed on the dance floor, their bodies undulating in time with the music, their movements so suggestive that she felt herself blushing.
Ronan found a place at the bar and Shannah sat beside him.
“Open your mind,” he said. “Find those who are susceptible to suggestion. When you find someone that appeals to you, call him, or her, to you.”
“I don’t think I can…” Even as she said the words, her mind touched that of a tall young man standing at the end of the bar. As her mind brushed against his, he turned to look at her.
Shannah smiled tentatively. Straightening, he swaggered toward her.
“Exert your power over him,” Ronan said quietly.
“But this is so easy!” she exclaimed.
Ronan grinned. “Not for everyone. When he gets here, tell him you want to go outside. When you have him alone, speak to his mind. Tell him what you want, and he will do as you ask, without question.”
“Hey, sweet cakes,” the young man said squeezing in beside her. “Can I buy you a drink?”
Shannah let her mind merge with the young man’s, then imposed her will on his. “Not now,”
she said, taking him by the hand. “Come with me, won’t you?”
“Go with you, yes.”
Filled with a sense of power unlike anything she had ever known, she led the young man outside and then around the corner of the building.
Ronan followed the two of them into the shadows under the building’s overhang.
“Now what?” she asked.
“Follow your instincts.”
“How will I know when to stop? I don’t want to hurt him.”
“You’ll know. When you’ve finishing feeding, lick the wound to close it.”
Shannah stared at Ronan a moment, thinking she should be repulsed by what she was about to do. Instead, she felt a kind of nervous excitement, sort of like the first time she had held a glass of champagne in her hand. She looked at the young man, her gaze drawn to the pulse steadily beating in the hollow of his throat. Her mouth watered. The hunger soared within her, throbbing to the beat of his heart, as if in anticipation of being sated. She brushed her hand over the side of the young man’s neck, then lowered her head and followed her instincts, as Ronan had suggested.
It wasn’t repulsive. It wasn’t disgusting. It was the most natural thing in the world.
She took what she needed, then, looking up at Ronan, she licked her lips. “I did it.” The hunger had receded, leaving behind a sense of serenity and euphoria.
He smiled at her. “Was it as bad as you thought it would be?”
“No.” She smiled back at him, her eyes glowing. “It was like…I don’t know, like I’ve been doing it all my life.”
He stifled the urge to say, “I told you so.”
“Now what do I do with him?”
“Speak to his mind again. Tell him to go back into the club and forget everything that just happened.”
“And he’ll do it?”
Ronan nodded.
“Will I have a bond with him now, like the one you and…will I have a bond with him?”
“No. That only happens if he drinks your blood in return.”