All The Queen's Horses {Myrnin, Morganville Vampires}

My Own Personal Blood Donor

Chapter 3 – My Own Personal Blood Donor

I was getting ready to call his name again, when he whispered from right behind me, his breath tickling my neck, "Never."

I jumped and spun around before my brain could lock down my body's response. It was too late. His pupils dilated and his body shifted just a little bit lower. To anyone else, his actions would not have meant anything. To me, I knew he was right on the edge of a whole lot of crazy – that could easily end up with me dead.

"Hello, my dear," he purred.

Still struggling to get my breathing back to a normal pace, I scolded him, "You know better than to scare me like that. You know what it...does...to you."

"Uh huh," he agreed with me, his eyes glittering wickedly. He licked his lips slowly, purposefully.

I fought my body's natural response to pull away from what it recognized, was an obvious predator, and stood my ground. He was just inches from my neck, hovering over my carotid artery, inhaling my scent. I placed a hand on his chest and felt his muscles ripple in response. He was silent as he lightly brushed a strand of hair back over my ear. Such a harmless looking gesture to anyone who didn't know him.

I knew my time was running out. I needed to snap him out of it. Quickly. My tone took on a hard glint, "Myrnin. Don't do this. You don't want to hurt me. It would crush you if you hurt me." I hoped I was right; that my words would spark familiarity in his head, speak the truth that always evaded him in this state, but I was never really sure with him. I hoped that he would care enough for me to regret killing me. Yet, he was a predator, through and through. I had no delusions about what he was truly capable of. The horror and pain he could easily inflict. That he wanted to inflict on me right now.

"My sweet Claire," he purred as he pressed his lips lightly against my neck, but firm enough for me to feel his fangs extend.

That was it; I was out of time and had to play my backup card. Well, back up weapon actually. I shifted the angle of the dagger in my hand. "Myrnin, I have a silver dagger against your chest. You know I do and you know I will use it," I let anger seep into my words. I had used it once; thrust it deep into his chest, my hands shaking uncontrollably, when he had dropped to the ground in front of me. I prayed he wouldn't push me that far today.

He hesitated.

"That's it," I coaxed him, wanting to release my breath in relief, but couldn't – he wasn't there yet. I continued in soothing tones, "You can feel the truth now. Hold onto it."

His eyes reflected the internal war that was waging within him; teetering between his physical desire to eat me and his mental desire to protect me.

"What project were you working on today? Before I came in?" I worked to pull his mind back, to force him to latch onto the present, before he was in an altered state.

"Claire?" his eyes began to change, to relax and dull. I hated this part. More than the fear. More than the panic, I hated what always came next: his guilt. I knew immediately when he was fully aware again, because he stared down at the floor in shame. "I'm—"

"Shhh. No. Don't you tell me that you are sorry, because that wasn't you." I slipped the weapon back into the sheath and placed both hands against his chest. He shifted to back away from me, but I clutched his shirt tightly and whispered again, "No."

A second ago, his body had felt unstoppable with the raw power and energy that coursed through it. Now, as he slumped forward slightly, he felt broken beneath my fingertips and I couldn't stand his pain. It killed me to see him in pain. "Stop it," I pleaded.