Williams's teeth are at my neck. He's snarling and snapping at me, coming closer and pulling away as if wanting to prolong my fear.
Smiling as he enjoys the taste of it.
The smile is what pulls me back. It releases the hold he has on my mind. I can't, I won't, let him kill me. In a last desperate effort to save myself, I gather strength to push against him. But his power is inexorable and relentless. He is an old soul. I understand in a flash that it is centuries of consuming the most essential of all life force-living blood-that gives him this capability. It is what he will use, finally, to kill me.
Unless.
I have Avery's blood coursing through my veins, don't I?
He is a most powerful vampire, older even than Williams. He is the only creature I have fed from. Can I channel his energy for my own use?
I let my body relax for a moment, clear all thoughts out of my head.
Williams senses a change, pulls back a little as if to watch. His eyes narrow, his face feral and dangerous. Then he lunges again, and my instinct tells me he's tired of this game. He's ready for the kill.
But I'm ready, too. My blood is on fire now, my thoughts centered. I parry his thrust, get an arm between his face and my neck and push.
He flies off me and crashes into the coffee table. The splintering of wood and breaking of glass is lost in the howl of rage that escapes his lips. He pulls himself upright, all vestiges of humanity gone. I'm facing the animal now, too, and for a split second, terror is all I have.
But I recover quickly. I remember how it was with Lawson, how the vampire can swallow up the human, and I let it happen. I face Williams if not as an equal, then as the more desperate. I have nothing to lose, no inhibition about attacking a mortal to hinder me the way it did with Lawson. This will be a fight to the death. I use that realization to propel me forward.
When our bodies hit, it's with the force of a head-on collision between two semis. I dig my heels in and push him backward, for the first time cognizant of the fact that I might be stronger. He fights against it, but I don't let up. I want him on the ground, beneath me, subject to the same fear I felt moments before. I let him read that in my mind, see the flash of understanding bloom in his eyes. He knows I can do it. He knows I've fed from Avery.
But there's no fear. Only a sense of betrayal and regret that's quickly swallowed up by angry resolve. He has more reason than ever to want me dead.
Why? I back him into the stone hearth of the fireplace. Why do you want me dead?
He tries to shake me off. When he can't, he snarls at me like a wild dog. You are a threat.
A threat to what?
He continues to fight against me, but I have my arm across his jugular and the pressure is beginning to take its toll. His eyes roll back, his mind becomes a black void.
I loosen my grip, shake his shoulders. No. Stay with me. Tell me what I want to know .
Williams eyes clear, his gaze refocuses. I can't help you.
I shake him again. What about David? Who has him?
His mind closes. It triggers another flash of rage deep inside me. I throw him onto the rug, pin him as he did me. But I don't tease. I rip into the soft skin at his jugular and drink.
An intoxicating, heady rush of explosive color and sound and emotion rips into me. Different from Avery, but the same. Not sexual, but basic. Williams's life experience, his memories, his history, are all there for the taking. And I do take it all. I let it flow into and through me. I crawl into his mind and nest there. I strain his thoughts like flour through a sifter until I find what I need to know.
Only then do I stop feeding.
He does not have David. He doesn't know who does.
I pull back and shake his shoulders to get his attention. He has long since stopped fighting me. His mind is open, lethargic. I read something I don't expect. His acceptance of death. You want me to finish it?
He opens his eyes. You are the stronger. Do what you will.
Again, I'm caught off guard. I don't understand. You have lived for centuries. You are ready now to die?
I am ready to accept your will.
He speaks as if in prayer to a deity. Something in his tone, in his complete acquiescence rocks me. Why do you say that?
He reaches up a hand and grasps me behind the back of my neck, gently pulling me toward him. His voice is a whisper in my ear. You have the power now. Finish it .
I recoil as if hit, rearing back to search his face. What do you mean?
He nods, smiling, a sad, sweet smile. Avery was right. You are the one.
The one?
Ask him.
And then he's gone. It's like nothing I've experienced before. His mind closes utterly and completely, like the flat line when brain death occurs. His eyes are open and staring, his body rigid.
I open my mouth to scream and Avery is there.