Home > Soulmate (Night World #6)(27)

Soulmate (Night World #6)(27)
Author: L.J. Smith

"No," Thierry said. He still thought he had a choice.

"Yes. I'm going to have a baby-not with you, I'm afraid; I don't think you'll be able to-and the baby will have my blood. And I'm going to give my blood to other people the way I'll give it to you now. Someday there won't be anyone in the world who won't have my blood. It's a nice thought, isn't it?" She rested her chin on a fist and her eyes glittered.

"Hellewise will stop you," Thierry said flatly.

"My sister? No, I don't think so. Especially not since I'll have you to help me. She likes you, you know.

It will be hard for her to kill somebody she likes so much."

"She won't have to. I'll kill you," Thierry snarled.

Maya laughed out loud.

"You? You? Don't you know yourself yet? You're not a killer-you don't have the guts for it. That will change, of course, after I give you my blood. But you won't want to kill me then. You'll join me-and be happy. You'll see." She dusted off her hands as if a difficult negotiation had been accomplished and terms had been reached. "Now. Let's do it."

He was strong. He had that good throwing arm-he was dead accurate with a spear or a killing stick. But she was so much stronger that she could handle him like a baby. The first thing she did was clamp a hand across his mouth-because by this time it had occurred even to stupid Thierry that he was in very bad trouble, and that he needed help.

There was no sound of a struggle as she dragged him off into the bushes.

"I'm afraid this is going to hurt," she said. She was lying on top of him, her eyes glittering into his. She was excited. "At least, all the animals I've caught seem to have found it very unpleasant. But it's for your own good."

Then she ripped his throat out.

That was what it felt like. And that was when he realized what those long canine teeth were for. Like any lynx or cave lion or wolf, she needed teeth to tear.

Through the black waves of shock and pain, he heard her drinking.

It lasted a long time. But finally, mercifully, he realized that he was dying. He took comfort in the thought that the horror would soon be over.

He couldn't have been more wrong. The horror was just beginning.

When Maya lifted her head, her mouth was scarlet with his blood. Dripping. She wasn't beautiful any longer, she was simply fiendish.

"Now," she said. "I'm going to give you something that will make it all better."

She pulled back and placed a fire-hardened splinter of wood at her own throat. She smiled at him.

Maya had always been physically brave. And then, with a gesture almost of ecstasy, she plunged the splinter in, sending blood spurting and spilling.

Then she fell on top of him again.

He didn't mean to swallow the blood that filled his mouth. But everything was so gray and unreal-and he still had enough survival reflex left to not want to drown in it. The warm, strange-tasting liquid went down his throat. It burned like fermented-berry wine.

After she made him drink, he realized to his relief that he was still dying. He didn't know that he wasn't going to stay dead. He felt her carrying him farther into the forest-he was completely limp now and didn't put up any resistance-and then everything went black.

When he woke up, he'd been buried.

He clawed himself up out of the shallow grave and found himself looking into the astonished face of his brother Conlan. The tribe had buried him in the traditional way-in the soft dirt at the back of the cave.

In the minute before his brother could yell in surprise, Thierry was at his throat.

It was animal instinct. A thirst inside of him like nothing he had ever known. A pain that was like being underwater-being strangled-gasping for air. It made him desperate, made him insane. He didn't think at all.

He simply tried, mindlessly, to tear at his brother's throat.

What stopped him was someone calling his name. Calling it over and over, in great pain. When he looked around, he saw Hellewise, her brown eyes huge and spilling with tears, her mouth trembling.

The expression on her face would haunt him forever.

He ran out of the cave and kept running. Behind him, just faintly, he could hear Hellewise's voice, "Theorn, I'll stop her. I swear to you, I'll stop her."

He realized later that it was all Hellewise could offer him. She knew that his curse was permanent. What he was now, he would be forever.

There wasn't a name for it then, but he was the first made vampire. Maya, who would have a son just as she promised, was the first of the lamia, the family vampires who could grow up and have children. And her son, Red Fern, would be the ancestor of the Redfern family, the most powerful lamia family in the Night World.

Thierry didn't know any of that as he ran. He only knew he had to get away from people, or he would hurt them.

Maya caught up with him while he was frantically trying to quench his thirst by drinking from a stream.

"You're going to make yourself sick," she said, inspecting him critically. "You can't drink that. It's blood you need."

Thierry jumped up, shaking with fury and hatred and weakness all mixed together. "What about yours?"

he snarled.

Maya laughed. "How sweet. But it won't do. You need the blood of living creatures." She wasn't at all afraid of him, and he remembered how strong she had been. He was no match for her.

He turned and began to stumble off.

Maya called after him, "You can't do it, you know. You can't get away from me. I've chosen you, Theorn. You're mine, now and forever. And in the end you'll realize that and join me."

Thierry kept going. He could hear her laughing as he went.

He lived on the steppes for several weeks, wandering across the high windswept grasslands. He was more an animal than anything resembling a person. The thirst inside him made him desperate-until he stumbled over a rabbit. The next instant he found that he was holding it, biting into its throat. His teeth were like Maya's now-long, sensitive, and perfect for tearing or puncturing. And she was right, only the blood of a living creature could help the burning, suffocating feeling inside him.

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