The first part of the process was all right because, well, there wasn’t exactly any “turning” going on… but when it finally came time to sink my teeth into his bare neck, I felt like a nervous wreck. It was one of the hardest things that I’d ever had to do. This was the first time I had ever turned anyone.
I crouched over him, the tips of my fangs centimeters away from his warm flesh. Derek settled his broad hands firmly around the backs of my thighs, as if to reassure me. Ground me.
“You can do this,” he whispered, his steady blue eyes gazing up at me.
I nodded, even as I felt like backing out of the whole thing. I leaned closer and finally broke his skin. Derek’s warm blood filled my mouth, its taste tantalizing my senses. His hands remained anchoring me against him as I began to release my venom. Then his palms moved upward, settling around my hips. He pushed gently, indicating that I’d inserted enough poison already.
I drew my fangs out and then crawled off of him, giving him some space as the transformation kicked in. He started drifting in and out of awareness, and all I could do was watch as he began to shake and vomit blood. Even though I could fetch one of the witches to help if there were problems, it didn’t make watching my lover go through this agony any less torturous.
I appreciated him now more than ever for having volunteered to do the same thing for me. Turning itself was hell, but watching a loved one go through it… it was a different kind of punishment.
As the hours passed, I kept checking the clock. His turning was progressing at the usual pace, but it felt like forever. When he finally began to show signs of stabilizing, I couldn’t have felt more relieved.
I clutched his hand as his shaking subsided. “You’re doing great, baby,” I whispered to him, planting a kiss over his knuckles. His eyelids, which had been tightly shut the entire time, opened slowly. I reached out and stroked his forehead. “I think you’re done.”
He gazed at me, his blue eyes more brilliant than I had remembered them. His gaze sent chills down my spine, reminding me of the first time he had ever looked at me, all those years ago when he woke from his four-hundred-year sleep.
“How are you feeling?” I asked gently, my palm still against his forehead.
He clenched his jaw. “I’ve been better,” he rasped. His throat sounded horribly dry.
Crap. He needs blood!
I couldn’t believe that I hadn’t thought to remind him before we’d started. His request to turn had come so suddenly, so unexpectedly, and I had just agreed to it. Then he had started seducing me and one thing had rolled into another.
“Will you be okay waiting here while I go fetch some blood?” I asked. He seemed to be of sound mind and I didn’t sense that he would leave the lighthouse to go rampaging around the island murdering our humans… but, recalling my son with a painful stab in my chest, I knew one never could be quite sure with a Novak.
“No, it’s all right,” he murmured. He rolled to the edge of the bed and reached for his cloak that had been discarded on the floor. I frowned as he withdrew two sacks of blood from within the garment’s deep pockets. Well, someone came prepared…
He ripped the bags open with his fangs and downed them within two minutes. Then, grimacing, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and leaned back against the headboard.
He closed his eyes, breathing deeply. For the next few minutes, I didn’t talk to him, giving him the space he needed to recover.
Then his eyelids lifted again. He glanced up at the clock in the corner of the room, and then, to my surprise, he pushed himself off the bed and stood up, his legs still shaky.
“I need to get dressed,” he murmured, snatching up the rest of his clothes and beginning to pull them on.
“Uh, honey, I really don’t think you should be standing up yet. You need to rest.”
“I need to get ready to leave.”
“What?” He’d said he wanted to leave soon after turning, but I’d never dreamed that it would be this soon. He’d only just completed his turning less than twenty minutes ago. Turning took a hell of a lot out of one’s body, and after the process, vampires were supposed to rest. Besides, he was still covered in blood—blood that had now transferred onto the clean clothes he was pulling on himself. “Derek, that’s insane.”
“I’ll be all right,” he said, meeting my anxious gaze, even as he teetered slightly and was forced to hold onto the back of a chair for support. “I promise.”
Before I could say anything more, there was a knock at the door.
Derek finished doing up his pants zipper and allowed me time to pull on my own clothes before he opened the door. Ibrahim stood behind it. The warlock eyed Derek and then glanced at me with an almost apologetic look on his face.
Derek moved through the doorway, turning back to face me. “I’ll be back soon.”
My brows couldn’t raise any higher. “You’re aware that you look like a sweaty, blood-stained, crazy ax murderer.”
“All the better,” Derek replied, a dark twinkle in his eyes.
Jeramiah
Still stinging from the failure of the mission in The Shade, we ended up returning to The Oasis. On arrival, I was forced to turn my mind to other matters. Our coven filled us in on everything that happened there while we’d been gone: the raid by the Drizans along with the seizing of the Nasiris, and even the visit of a group of vampires—headed by Derek and Sofia Novak.