Eternal Redemption - Book Two ✔

Epilogue

His eyes flung open as if something loud had woken him up. He could barely move. He felt trapped. His dirty and bloodied hand was the first to break through the rubble. His joints flexed as if it had been a long time since they'd moved. And it had, but just how long he did not know. With a throaty groan, he pushed off a pillar that had his whole torso trapped. He gasped, more out of habit than actual need. He blinked against the darkness surrounding him. It was an hour past sunset and through the cracks in the ruins above him the sky was painted in various streaks of orange and red. With great effort, he pulled his right leg to him, wincing as something sharp sliced his calf. 

He was weak and unaware of how long he'd been comatose under the debris.

Images flickered in his mind, but he was unable to focus on them. He was unable to focus on anything, but the hunger. His throat burned and the hunger scratched in his throat. He'd never gone this long without feeding before. Which meant he must have been out cold for weeks.

He removed another large block of concrete and struggled to get on his feet. The small space he was in left him unable to move any further. He felt hollow and empty. Like everything had been taken away from him. He looked down at the mess surrounding him and suddenly he was hit with the realisation of where he was.

Los Angeles. Shax's hotel. 

He was surrounded by it. Or what was left of it.

Another image streaked across his eyes – a girl, tied to a machine, screaming at someone – at him. Her face. Her dark hair. She seemed so familiar, but his mind was in pieces, like the rubble around him. He couldn't put it all together. Like a puzzle missing too many pieces.

He had to get out of this place, but he was still so tired. It took all he had to push away something that appeared to be the remains of a wall.

He tried to listen, but everything was silent. Even at a great distance he'd been able to feel something, feel him, Nox, his maker, but now it was all quiet. There was nothing.

What had happened here?

The image of the girl kept coming back to him, like she was important or something. But who the hell was she? He saw her screaming, a flash of red and then nothing. Only darkness. Eternal darkness until now.

Looking up he could see a way out of the wreckage. He started climbing, kicking away blocks of cement, torn off doors and sections of walls with the wallpaper still desperately clinging on to it. It took all of his strength to finally get to the top. The ruins stretched out far with the Los Angeles skyline rising up around him. He sensed others, but they weren't near. He knew he needed to feed. And fast.

But he also knew he needed to find her. The girl. She was important to him. He could feel it deep within him.
Another image flashed before his eyes - he was feeding from her. Standing alone with her on the dark city street. He felt her skin on his lips, her warm, luscious blood flow through him, and something else as well.
She was the reason he was still alive.

A name started forming on his lips and the first and only word he spoke he knew belonged to her.

"Emily."