Turned (Book 1 in the Vampire Journals) by Morgan Rice by Morgan Rice Read Free Book Online Page A

still room between them. She really wanted to avoid another confrontation. Not here. Not now .
    He got closer. She wondered how long it would be until she’d have no choice but to confront him. Please God, get me out of here .
    Just then, a deafening noise filled the station, and the train suddenly arrived. Thank God.
    She boarded, and watched with satisfaction as the doors closed on the man. Drunk, he cursed and banged on the metal casing.
    The train took off, and in moments he was no more than a blur. She was on her way out of this neighborhood. On her way to a new life.
    *
    Caitlin exited at Columbus Circle and walked at a brisk pace. She checked her watch again. She was 20 minutes late. She swallowed.
    Please be there. Please don’t go. Please.
    As she walked, just a few blocks away, she suddenly felt a pang in her stomach. She stopped, taken aback by the intense pain.
    She bent over, clutching her stomach, unable to move. She wondered if people were staring at her, but she was in too much pain to care. She’d never experienced anything like this before. She struggled to catch her breath.
    People passed quickly by on either side, but no one stopped to check if she was OK.
    After about a minute, she finally, slowly, stood back up. The pain began to subside.
    She breathed deeply, wondering what it could possibly have been.
    She began walking again, heading in the direction of the café. But she now felt completely disoriented. And something else….Hunger. It wasn’t a normal hunger, but a deep, unquenchable thirst. As a woman walked past her, walking her dog, Caitlin noticed herself turning and staring at the animal. She found herself craning her neck and watching the animal as it walked past, and staring at its neck.
    To her surprise, she could see the details of the veins on the dog’s skin, the blood coursing through it. She watched the heartbeat through the blood, and she felt a dull, numbing sensation in her own teeth. She wanted that dog’s blood.
    As if sensing itself being watched, the dog turned as it walked, and stared with fear up at Caitlin. It growled, and hurried away. The owner of the dog turned and looked at Caitlin, not understanding.
    Caitlin walked on. She couldn’t understand what was happening to her. She loved dogs. She would never want to harm an animal, much less a fly. What was happening to her?
    The hunger pains disappeared as quickly as they had come, and Caitlin felt herself returning to normal. As she rounded the corner, the café came into sight, and she doubled her pace, breathed deep, and almost felt herself again. She checked her watch. 30 minutes late. She prayed he’d be there.
    She opened the doors. Her heart was pounding, this time not from pain, but from the fear that Jonah would be gone.
    Caitlin quickly scanned the place. She walked in fast, out of breath, and already felt conspicuous. She could feel all eyes on her, and scanned the row of diners to her left, and to her right. But there was no sign of Jonah. Her heart fell. He must have left.
    “Caitlin?”
    Caitlin spun around. There, grinning, stood Jonah. She fell her heart swell with joy.
    “I am so sorry,” she said in a rush. “I am usually never late. I just – it just –”
    “It’s OK,” he said, gently laying his hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, really. I’m just glad you’re okay,” he added.
    She looked up into his smiling, green eyes, framed by a still bruised and swollen face, and for the first time that day, she felt at peace. She felt that everything could be all right after all.
    “The only thing is, we don’t have much time if we’re going to make it,” he said. “We only have about five minutes. So I guess we’ll have to have that cup of coffee another time.”
    “That’s fine,” she said. “I’m just so happy that we didn’t miss the concert altogether. I feel like such a –”
    Caitlin suddenly looked down and was horrified to realize that she was still dressed in