Whisper to Me (Borne Vampires Book 1) by W.M. Petzler Read Free Book Online Page B

his gaze centered
on the carpet. “Alexander, hold a minute.”
    “Yes, my lord?”
    “I would like you to inquire about this Mariah
Jordan Murphy told me about. Apparently, she was with Romulas.”
    Alexander looked at him, surprising him by the
uncharacteristic act. “Is she human or vampire?”
    “Unknown. Murphy died before he could tell me. Head
out to Mormon Lake. Speak to the sheriff. Use any means necessary to extract
what he knows about her and her life. If she is alive, bring her to me.”
    “Yes, my lord.” The doors closed behind Alexander.
    Stretching out his mind, he searched for her.
Nothing. Still, he knew deep inside him, she wasn’t dead. It could be wishful
thinking on his part. Either way, he was confident Alexander would find her.
    Desperate to see her again, he closed his eyes and
pulled back the details what Murphy had shown him, drinking in the intoxicating
sight of her beauty, cherishing every curve, until he saw her bruised neck. She
had been bitten! Peering closer, he saw the savagery of the bite. By Mariah’s
wane color, he realized Romulas must have nearly drained her.  
    Could it be that his nemesis was close to losing
his precious soul? Had the Slayer exchanged blood with her?
    “No, he would never break his precious laws, not
even to save an innocent.” Years he had searched for her, and to find out she’d
met his enemy first was like a stake through the heart. He should
have been her first, not the son-of-a-bitch Romulas!
    Fuming, he made to withdraw when he caught sight the
medallion she wore. Surprise vanquished his anger. “Damn those meddling gypsies
and their magic! That is why I could not locate you. Clever indeed. Who is the
cleverest of the witches? Who hid you from me, Mariah? Who is strong enough to
cast such a powerful protection spell against me?”
    He directed to his bodyguards, “Gentlemen, I
return to California. Wrap my paintings and prepare my car for the journey. Do
have someone clean the mess I made of Mr. Murphy. Tidiness is close to ... well
you know the rest.”
    As he left the room, the familiar ache of
loneliness hit him. To see her beautiful face after all these long years, to
know she had survived that terrible night, he said a prayer before he caught
himself.
    Please be alive,
Mariah. I love you. Don’t leave me again.

 
      ✝✝✝

 
    Evil stalked her.
    It’s hot, stagnate breath burned the back
of her neck. She ran to stand beneath the beam of light, sighing as its warmth
bathed her in its protection. Her relief was short lived. Circling her, he stayed
just outside reach of the light, his face cast in darkness, red eyes fixed on
her as he moved around her. Clutching her medallion in her hand, she fought the
fear suffocating her.
    “Mariah, why do you deny me? You and I are
the same.”
    “No! I am nothing like you.” A guttural
laugh swirled around and around her, making her clutch her ears to muffle the
awful sound out.
    “Let me show you, my love.”
    Sweeping a clawed hand before her eyes,
she saw Murphy on the floor, a twisted heap of broken bones and mutilated,
twitching flesh. Above him, blood and brain splattered the white wall. Blood pooled
around his body.
    Blood.
    Hypnotized by the delicious sight, the heady
smell of it caused a vicious hunger to rise inside her. Sharp and terrible,
like a knife twisting in her gut. Wanting to lap up the blood, to sink her
teeth into the quivering flesh and feed….
    She threw the blankets off her and ran to the
bathroom. Bent over the toilet, she tried to vomit. Dry heaves. Drinking water
out of the faucet, hoping it would settle her stomach. Instead, it gave it fuel
to puke. Once the projectile vomiting had eased, she rose shakily to her feet
and splashed water on her face, cooling her feverish skin.
    Bracing her hands on the counter, she looked at
herself in the mirror. Dark circles under her eyes weren’t what alarmed her — it
was her eyes. They had changed! Violet had lightened several