Forsaking God to kiss someone you hate might not be a smart decision, but damn does it hurt good.
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Judith was never supposed to fall in love- but she was never supposed to become a vampire either. It's her duty as a nu...
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"Judith, stay behind me." Ayla said.
The man with the crossbow looked to his leader, his eyes wide with realization.
"They're working together!"
The leader looked at each of us, like he had just put the pieces of a puzzle together as well.
"They're the ones Charmange is looking for. They're traveling with Imanthi. The reward for their capture is hefty." He said. He threw a casual nod towards Quen. "Kill him if you have to, the mercenaries are where the money is at."
Quen trembled in the man's grasp, the blade just barely nicking the skin of his throat.
At the sight of a trickle of blood coming from his skin, panic flooded through me.
Put something between him and the knife, my mind told me.
I had made a promise to his mother after all. I had to protect him.
I liked to keep my word, no matter the cost.
I acted without thinking, leaping forward.
The man's eyes widened as I grabbed the blade with the palms of my hands, and pulled it away. I could feel the skin separate, but the cut was so sharp I felt no pain.
The man's pause in surprise gave Quen enough time to slip away from his grasp and duck behind Ayla. I pulled the knife from him, the blade sinking even deeper into my skin, and he stumbled back a step.
I fumbled with the knife, quickly getting the hilt into my hand, and ran at him
I slashed at him aimlessly and without skill, but it was enough to send him stumbling backward again, this time falling to his back on the stone street. I crawled onto him, pinning his arms to the ground with my knees. He bucked and cursed underneath me with a strength that much outweighed my own, but I managed to keep steady.
I pulled the blade above my head. My own blood ran down the handle and dripped onto his face, one drop at a time.
I hesitated.
Just kill him. You've done it before. You can do it again. Hurry, before the shock wears off and his friends come to his aid.
I plunged the dagger down, but it was harder to pierce deep into his throat than I thought it would be. I tried not to look in his eyes but it was much harder to ignore the gurgling scream he let out. I pushed the knife down harder, and his screaming was cut off.
The sounds, the noises— it sounded so much like when I killed William. Desperation and fear and choking.
Animals don't want to die.
After a moment, he stopped moving.
I pulled the knife out, blood spilled out from the gash on his throat. My hands were coated in the thick stuff.
