Crimson Groves by Ashley Robertson Read Free Book Online

explanation. If you shall even need one.”
    “A more permanent explanation for what?”
    “You will never see your human friends, or family for that matter, again. You are a vampire, Abigail. No one can know what you are. It is vital for our survival and theirs.”
    “But...”
    “IF ANYONE WERE TO DISCOVER WHAT YOU ARE, THEY WOULD BE DESTROYED!” His voice was so loud I thought my eardrums would burst. I cried harder, tears falling more urgently. I needed to think of something else, I needed to be somewhere else.
    I wept in my hands for what seemed like hours. I peered up at Bronx. He hadn’t moved an inch, his watchful eyes on me. I looked away, squinting to see more of the dark room around me. It was much bigger than before. Wrought-iron wall hangings and tall candles with tiny dancing flames cast shadows on the deep gray walls. The dark wood floors were distressed with cracks and creases, and a large stone gargoyle sat on top of them in a corner. Two matching armchairs were across from where I sat, a rectangular coffee table of wrought iron and wood in between. What a perfect place to become an undead creature of the night.
    How could this have happened? I was bombarded by “why me” and “what if” questions. Why did he pick me? What was so damned special about me? What if I hadn’t been such a loner? What if I hadn’t picked up those stupid extra shifts at work? Would any of that have even made a difference? And what about that crazy call from my father? Was it just some odd coincidence that he’d called hours before this happened?
    There were footsteps, distant, across the room. I swung my head around to see where Bronx was going. He stood in a doorway of what looked like a hallway. “I will return in a minute.”
    He was gone but then he was back—like pressing a fast-forward button through the commercials. He held a middle-aged woman in his arms. She was fifty something, short, a little overweight, but the oversized blue tunic she wore with a super-tight pair of white leggings made her look even bigger. Shoulder-length black hair streaked with gray drooped over her round, pudgy face. Inexpressive eyes peeked out at me from between thick wisps of hair. Her arms were stretched behind her, most likely restrained somehow. If they were pulled any tighter, she’d probably pop like a balloon with too much air.
    “What are you doing? Who is that?” I meant it to sound more demanding, but it came out soft and flat. More questions circulated in my mind like a hamster running on its little wheel, but I couldn’t get my voice to ask them. I was beyond exhausted, too overwhelmed, and growing more impatient with Bronx and his twisted games.
    Bronx answered, “This human will provide you with the blood you need. Time is of the essence. Come now and drink from her.
     

 
    4
     
    Learning
     
     
    I STARED AT THE WOMAN who should’ve looked more frightened than she did. Perhaps Bronx was persuading her, but if that was the case, then why were her hands tied? There were bite marks already on her neck. Just great! Apparently she’d already been snacked on. The thought of that revolted me, and bile shot up my throat like baking soda in vinegar. I swallowed hard, getting most of it back down. A lingering tang lay on the back of my tongue, gliding down into my throat. I shook my head, teeth clenched, eyes glaring. “I am not touching that woman! I’m not doing anything to her!”
    “Yes you will, and I prefer not to use my persuasion to make you do it.” He sounded calm, gentle, serious.
    “I’m not going to kill her or anyone else, not now, not ever!”
    “You do not have to kill her to feed on her blood. Some humans, known as blood donors, know of our existence and willingly allow us to drink from them. Our bite gives them a feeling of pleasure that begins during the bite and lasts for hours after. This woman has been a regular blood donor for a few of the other vampires around here. She would be honored