Richelle Mead - Bloodlines

“Ow!”

I yelled in pain as my fist made contact. If this was the “safe” way to punch, I couldn’t imagine how much a sloppy one hurt. Fortunately, it seemed to cause just as much—if not more—pain to Lee. He fell backward, hitting the comfy chair in a way that made him lose his balance and collapse to the ground. I was stunned at what I had done, but Adrian was still in motion. He nudged me to the door, taking advantage of Lee’s temporary disorientation.

“Come on, Sage. This is it.”

We hurried to the door, ready to make our escape while Lee shouted profanities at us. I reached for the knob, but the door opened before I could touch it.

And two Strigoi entered the room.

I HAD MOCKED KEITH when we first came to Palm Springs, teasing him for freezing up around Moroi. But as I stood there now, face-to-face with the stuff of nightmares, I knew exactly how he felt. I had no right to judge anyone for losing all rational thought when confronted with their greatest fears.

That being said, if Keith was here, I think he would’ve understood why Moroi weren’t as big a deal to me anymore. Because when compared to Strigoi? Well, suddenly the little differences between humans and Moroi became negligible. Only one difference mattered, the difference between the living and the dead. It was the line that divided us, the line that Adrian and I firmly stood together on one side of—facing those who stood on the other.

I had seen Strigoi before. Back then, I hadn’t been immediately threatened by them. Plus, I’d had Rose and Dimitri on hand, ready to protect me. Now? There was no one here to save us. Just ourselves.

There were only two of them, but it might as well have been two hundred. Strigoi operated at such a different level than the rest of us that it didn’t take very many of them to tip the odds. They were both women, and they looked as though they’d been in their twenties when they became Strigoi. How long ago that was, I couldn’t guess. Lee had zealously gone on and on about how being Strigoi meant you were “forever young.” Yet in looking at these two monsters, I didn’t really think of them that way. Sure, they had the superficial appearance of youth, but it was marred with evil and decay. Their skin might be wrinkle free, but it was a sickly white, far whiter than any Moroi. The red-ringed eyes that leered out at us didn’t sparkle with life and energy, but rather an unholy sort of reanimation. These people weren’t right. They weren’t natural.

“Charming,” said one, her blond hair in a pixie cut. Her facial structure made me think she’d been a dhampir or human before being turned. She was eyeing us the same way I’d often seen my family’s cat watch birds. “And exactly as described.”

“They’re soooo pretty,” crooned the other, a lascivious smile on her face. Her height said she had once been Moroi. “I don’t know which one I want first.”

The blonde gave a warning look. “We’ll share.”

“Like last time,” agreed the other, tossing a mane of curly black hair over one shoulder.

“No,” said the first. “Last time you made both kills. That wasn’t sharing.”

“But I let you feed from both afterward.”

Before she could counter back, Lee suddenly recovered himself and staggered forward to the blond Strigoi. “Wait, wait. Dawn. You promised me. You promised you’d awaken me first before you do anything.”

The two Strigoi turned their attention to Lee. I was still frozen, still unable to move or really react while being so close to these creatures of hell. But somehow, through the thick and overwhelming terror surrounding me, I still managed to feel small and unexpected pity for Lee. There was a little hate there too, of course, considering the situation. But mostly I felt terribly sorry for someone who truly believed his life was meaningless unless he sacrificed his soul for hollow immortality. Not only that, I felt sorry for him for actually thinking he could trust these creatures to give him what he wanted. Because as I studied them, it was perfectly clear to me that they were deciding whether or not to make this a three-course meal. Lee, I suspected, was the only one who didn’t realize this.

“Please,” he said. “You promised. Save me. Restore me to how I was.”

I also couldn’t help but notice the small red patch on his face where I’d hit him. I allowed myself to feel a bit of pride over that but wasn’t cocky enough to think I possessed any noteworthy fighting skills to battle my way out of this situation. The Strigoi were too close, and our exits were too few.

“I know where more are,” he added, beginning to look uneasy that his “saviors” weren’t immediately jumping in to make his dreams come true. “One’s young—a dhampir.”

“I haven’t had a dhampir in a while,” said the curly-haired Strigoi, almost wistfully.

Dawn sighed. “I don’t really care, Jacqueline. If you want to awaken him, go for it. I just want these two. He doesn’t matter to me.”

“I get the dhampir all to myself, then,” warned Jacqueline.

“Fine, fine,” said Dawn. “Just hurry up.”

Lee turned so radiant, so happy . . . it was sickening. “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you so much! I’ve been waiting so long for this that I can’t believe it’s—ahh!”

Jacqueline moved so quickly that I hardly saw it happen at all. One moment she was standing in the doorway, the next she had Lee pinned against the recliner. Lee gave out a semi-muffled scream as she bit into his neck, a scream that soon quieted. Dawn shut the door and nudged us forward. I flinched at her touch.

“Well,” she said with amusement. “Let’s get a good view.”

Neither Adrian nor I responded. We simply moved into the living room. I dared a glance at him but could discern little. He was so good at hiding his true feelings in general that I supposed I shouldn’t be surprised he could mask abject terror just as easily. He offered me no encouragement with either his expression or words, which I actually found kind of refreshing. Because really, I didn’t see any good end to this situation.

Up close, forced to watch Jacqueline’s attack, I could now see the blissful expression that had settled over Lee’s face. It was the most awful thing I’d ever witnessed. I wanted to squeeze my eyes shut or turn away, but some force beyond me kept me staring at the grisly spectacle. I’d never seen any vampire feed, Moroi or Strigoi, but I now understood why feeders like Dorothy could so willingly sign up for their lifestyles. Endorphins were being released into Lee’s bloodstream, endorphins so strong that they blinded him to the fact that he was having his life drained away. He instead existed in a joyous state, lost in a chemical high. Or maybe he was just thinking about how happy he’d be once he was a Strigoi again, if it was possible to have any sort of conscious thought under these circumstances.

I lost track of how long it took to drain Lee. Each moment was agonizing for me, as though I was taking the pain Lee should have been feeling. The process seemed to last forever, and yet there was also a weird sense of speed to it. It felt wrong that someone’s body could be drained in so short a time. Jacqueline drank steadily, pausing only once to remark, “His blood’s not as good as I expected.”

“Then stop,” suggested Dawn, who was starting to look bored. “Just let him die and have these two with me.”

Jacqueline looked as though she was actually considering it, again reminding me what a fool Lee had been to put his trust in these two. After a few minutes, she shrugged. “I’m almost done. And I really want him to get me that dhampir.”

Jacqueline resumed drinking, but as she’d said, it didn’t take much longer. By this point, Lee was nearly as pale as the Strigoi, and there was a strange, stretched quality to his skin. He was perfectly still now. His face seemed frozen in a grin that was nearly as much shock as it was joy. Jacqueline lifted her face and wiped off her mouth, surveying her victim with pleasure. She then pushed up her shirtsleeve and rested her nails on his wrist. Before she could tear her own flesh, however, she caught sight of something.