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trying to focus. "Why do I feel so weird?"
"You are at my home." He pressed his cheek to her head.
"Tenorio drugged you. He did not know about your health. He
overdosed you."
"I can't move. I don't feel like myself." Her voice was
thready, a touch of fear beginning to vibrate through her
words. Chaos flooded her thoughts.
"It was the drug. It will pass soon."
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He watched her closely for the first signs. Her lashes
fluttered closed once more, her breathing easier. He brushed
a thumb across her brow when she frowned.
"I'm sorry," she murmured, a soft exhaled breath.
His gaze widened. "For?"
"Making you leave. Getting in trouble again." She inhaled
once, a sharp drag of air. "For everything."
"Cara." It was torn from his chest. He had destroyed her
life, her future. "I do not deserve you." He rocked her until
the first spasm struck.
Muscles clenched, tightened, her body pulling in on itself.
Her eyes snapped open. "What's happening?"
"Breathe, cara. It will pass. Breathe."
Her head jerked, and her gaze found his. The terror in
those blue eyes knifed him through the heart. "Help me," she
cried, fear lacing her voice.
"I did, cara. The only way I knew how."
She moaned, her eyes closing once again as heat grabbed
her. Her skin burned to the touch. She convulsed, wrapping
her arms over her stomach. "Diego!"
He held her closer as a violent tremor ripped through her.
Her head whipped back, her body arching as a scream split
the quiet of the room. Red-tinted tears fell from his eyes
unheeded as he held her, watched her body change with the
blood he had given her.
She slammed back down into his hold, twisting and
writhing in agony. Her eyes were open, unseeing, glazed with
pain. He knew the pain she was going through and would
have given anything to take back what he had done.
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The suffering, the agony, seemed endless as wave after
wave rode over her. Her hands clawed at him, pushed him
away at turns. She trembled, and Diego felt as another
contortion built. She stiffened, arched, bucked, a silent
scream unheard even as it tore through his mind.
A ripple shot up her body, and he slid from the bed,
kneeling on the ground. He held her carefully, tenderly as she
expelled the wastes of her human body. The convulsions grew
into violent heaves, and her body became soaked in sweat.
Shock after shock racked her trim body until he feared she
would shatter in his arms.
As the last wave faded, her breathing evened out and he
expelled a grateful breath. He was shaking when he lifted her
limp and exhausted body to his chest and carried her to the
shower. He rinsed her lovingly, erasing the proof of her ordeal
from her skin, washing the dirt and sweat from her hair.
It was very late by the time he had her dry and
comfortable in bed. But a frown of worry still shadowed his
pale eyes.
She had survived the conversion, but the reality of her
existence would have to be faced when she awakened. If she
woke. He was still daring untried territory, bringing her into
his world. The phrase "anything can happen" was an
understatement of gigantic proportions.
He changed from his soaked clothes and lay with her, her
body pulled into the curve of his. He lay in the darkness of
the room, silently listening to her breathing, the beating of
her heart as the minutes dragged by, until the weight of the
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by Diana Castilleja
morning sun made his arms and legs, then his body heavy. It
was the longest night of his life.
* * * *
Titania sucked in air, disoriented. She didn't dare move.
The last memories she had were painful, wrenching agonies
burning her insides until she had only wanted to die. She took
another breath. Nothing hurt. Nothing burned. She was alive!
That was always a good way to wake up. Then what the hell
happened? She could recall snatches of memory. Very little
made sense.
She continued to breathe, listening. She knew she wasn't
alone. Diego was there. How did she know that so quickly? So
easily? Her brow furrowed. She never woke up with him in
the room. How long had she slept this time?
Somewhere in her mind, she knew the sun had set. It was
one of those facts of life. She just knew it had. Sounds and
scents were beginning to infiltrate her waking discoveries.
The intoxicating leather and spice that was Diego was
prominent. She could make out several scented candles from
different locations in the room. Her breathing dragged,
hitched hard when she realized she could make them out
individually. Her sense of smell had become unbelievably
acute.
She could find her heartbeat, going strong. She swallowed
hard. She could hear Diego's heart clearly. Could hear the
rush of blood through his body, through hers. Something was
building in her, a ... craving? But she wasn't hungry. In fact,
she had never felt less hungry for food in her life.
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She felt as Diego's fingers sifted through her hair, a tender
caress. Except his hand was shaking.
"How are you feeling?" He continued lifting his fingers
through her hair.
"Not too bad." She dared to open her eyes and found
herself immersed in the pale winter gray of his gaze looming
over her, watching. Worried, strained, cautious. But a slow,
happy smile was rising on his mouth. "What happened?" she
asked.
His eyes were dark pools, a collage of thoughts hidden
behind them. "How much do you remember?"
She kept his gaze. "I remember you telling me you were a
vampire. I guess that hasn't changed."
His chest staggered, his lashes dropping for a brief second.
"No. It has not."
She closed her eyes. "One thing at a time." She licked her
lips. "All right. I remember leaving the hotel..." Her voice
drifted as her hazy memory began to come back to her, little
snippets. "I thought I was in a lab." Her gaze snapped to his
when his hand in her hair stilled for a heartbeat. "I was! I
remember waking up, and I was handcuffed." Her hands lifted
automatically, but there was no sign of the shackles. She
found the warmth of his bare chest beneath her palms. Her
gaze flicked down to the tight slab of his stomach, and a [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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