He flew backward as if he weighed nothing at all, crashing onto the hood of a car twenty feet away. I blinked in astonishment, but the next thug came rushing up with a howl, swinging a fist at my face.
Instinctively, I raised a hand and felt the meaty fist smack into my palm, surprising us both. He tried pulling back, but I squeezed hard, feeling bones crunch and grind together, and gave it a sharp twist. His wrist snapped with a popping sound, and the thug screamed.
Two more Blood Angels came at me from different directions. They moved slowly, like they were running through water, at least that’s how it looked to me. I easily sidestepped the first lunge and kicked the thug in the knee, feeling it snap under my ankle. He jerked sideways and smashed to the ground. His friend swung at me with a lead pipe; I grabbed it, wrenched it from his grasp, and backhanded him across the face with it.
The scent of blood from the gang member’s cheek misted on the air, and something inside me responded. I pounced on him with a roar, feeling my teeth burst through my gums.
The bark of gunfire shattered the night and something small whipped past my head. I felt the wind from its passing rip at my hair, and I spun into a crouch, hissing and baring my fangs. Scar-face’s eyes went wide, a string of swearwords falling from his lips as he pointed a smoking pistol at me.
“Vampire!” he shrieked, amid a flurry of cussing. “Oh, shit! Shit! Get away from me! Get away—!”
He took aim, and I tensed to fling myself across the pavement, to pounce on my prey and drive my fangs deep into his throat. But suddenly, his eyes went wide, and he was lifted off his feet, kicking helplessly as Kanin picked him up as easily as a cat, wrenched the gun away, and threw him into a wall.
The crack of the Blood Angel’s head against the brick pierced my wild, foaming rage and brought everything into focus again. I shook free of the bloodlust, the consuming Hunger, and gazed around in both horror and amazement. Five bodies lay on the ground, moaning, broken and bleeding. By my hand. I looked at Kanin, who tossed the gun almost disdainfully and raised an eyebrow as I approached.
“You knew,” I said softly, glancing at one dazed Blood Angel. “You knew what I would do—that’s why you let them attack me.” He didn’t answer, and I realized I wasn’t shaking with fear or adrenaline or anything. My heart was still and cold. I glared up at Kanin, furious at his manipulation. “I could have killed them all.”
“How many times must I tell you?” Kanin said, peering down at me. “You are a vampire now. You are no longer human. You are a wolf to their sheep—stronger, faster, more savage than they could ever be. They are food, Allison Sekemoto. And deep down, your demon will always see them as such.”
I looked at Scar-face lying in a heap beside the wall. Though his forehead was cut open and a large purple bruise had already begun to form, he groaned and tried to get up, only to slump back again, dazed. “Then why didn’t you kill him?” I asked.
Kanin’s stare went cold. Turning, he walked stiffly over to the gang leader, grabbed him by the scruff and dragged him back to me, throwing him at my feet.
“Drink,” he ordered in a steely voice. “But remember, take too much, and you will kill the host. Take too little, and you will have to feed again very soon. Find the balance, if you care whether you drain them or not. Usually five or six swallows will suffice.”
I looked down at the gang leader and recoiled. Chomping through a blood bag was one thing, but biting the neck of a living, breathing person? I had been so eager to do it a moment ago, when my Hunger and fury were raging, but now I felt nauseated.
Kanin continued to stare at me. “You will do this, or you will starve yourself to the point of frenzy and kill someone,” he said in a flat voice. “This is what being a vampire is about, our most basic, primal need. Now …” With one hand, he hauled the thug up and grabbed his hair with the other, wrenching his head back and exposing his throat. “Drink.”
Reluctantly, I stepped forward. The human moaned and tried fending me off, but I easily slapped his arms away and bent close to the hollow at the base of his throat. My fangs lengthened as I inhaled and sensed the warm blood coursing just below the surface of the skin. The scent of life was overwhelmingly strong in my nose and mouth. Before I could even think about what I was doing, I lunged forward and bit down hard.
The Blood Angel gasped and jerked, twitching weakly. Warm thickness flowed into my mouth, rich and hot and strong. I growled and bit down harder, eliciting a strangled cry from my prey. I felt heat spreading through my body, filling me with strength, with power. It was intoxicating. It was … I couldn’t describe it. It was bliss, pure and simple. I let my eyes slip shut, almost in a trance, consumed with wanting more, more …
Someone took my hair, pulling me back from my prey, breaking the connection. I snarled and tried to lunge forward again, but an arm barred my way, moving me back. The thug’s body collapsed bonelessly to the ground. I snarled again and tried to reach it, fighting the arm that held me back.
“Enough!” Kanin’s voice rang with authority, and he shook me, hard. My head snapped back like a rag doll’s, making me dizzy for a moment. “Allison, enough,” he repeated as my vision slowly cleared. “Any more and you’ll kill him.”
I blinked and backed off a step, the Hunger slowly ebbing away into something that wasn’t frantic and raging. Horrified, I stared at the Blood Angel crumpled on the pavement. He was pale, barely breathing, two dark puncture wounds oozing crimson from his throat. I’d almost killed him. Again. If Kanin hadn’t stopped me, I would’ve drained him dry. Self-loathing curled my stomach. For all my hatred of vampires, all my resolve not to be like them, I was no better than the worst bloodsucker to stalk the streets.
“Seal the wound,” Kanin ordered, pointing to the gang leader. His voice was cool, unsympathetic. “Finish what you started.”
I wanted to ask how, but suddenly I knew. Bending down, I pressed my tongue against the two small punctures and felt them close. Even then, I could sense the blood slowly pumping beneath the skin, and it took all my willpower not to bite him a second time.
Standing up, I turned to Kanin, who nodded his head once, watching me. “Now,” he said, his voice dark and unyielding, “you understand.”
I did. I gazed at the bodies scattered about the lot, at the destruction I’d caused, and I knew. I was truly inhuman. Humans were prey. I craved their blood like the worst addict on the street. They were sheep, cattle, and I was the wolf, stalking them through the night. I had become a monster.
“From here on,” Kanin said, “you will have to decide what kind of demon you will be. Not all meals will come to you so easily, ignorant and seeking to do you harm. What will you do if your prey invites you inside, offers you a place at the table? What will you do if they flee, or cower down, begging you not to hurt them? How you stalk your prey is something you must come to terms with, or you will quickly drive yourself mad. And once you cross that threshold, there is no coming back from it.”
“How do you do it?” I whispered. Kanin shook his head with a chuckle.
“My method would not help you,” he said as we started to leave the lot. “You will have to find your own way.”
As we entered the alley, we passed one of the thugs who was just starting to come around. He groaned and swayed as he staggered to his feet, gasping with pain, and though my Hunger was sated, something inside me reacted to the sight of a wounded, helpless creature. I half turned with a growl, fangs lengthening, before Kanin grabbed my arm and dragged me away into the darkness.
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