Retribution (Anna Strong Chronicles #5) - Page 1/62

IT WAS TOO DARK.

She couldn't see.

Her nose wrinkled. Something smelled bad. Smelled of urine and vomit and . . .

Death. She recognized it, though she shouldn't have been able to. She wouldn't have been able to twenty-four hours ago.

She was afraid. He was supposed to be here. He promised to be here.

She stepped closer to the wall, away from the door. The dark clutched at her with icy fingers. She was too new. She felt vulnerable, exposed. Her blood, his blood, ran through her veins, but it offered no protection. Where was the strength he promised? The freedom from fear?

She began to shake. She was so hungry. She needed to feed. He said he'd be here to help her. To show her what to do.

A sound, the scrabbling of claws on concrete, made her jump. Her skin tightened at the base of her spine. There were rats in here. Rats. He didn't expect her to eat rats, did he? No, he'd have to let her feed from him again if that's what he had planned.

She would not eat vermin. No matter how hungry she was.

She felt a thrill of excitement. She had done it. She had become vampire, one of the strong, one of the immortal. It wasn't exactly what she expected-the becoming. But she'd crossed the threshold and come out the other side. She was vampire.

So, why was she cringing here in the dark like a child just because he was late? Hadn't he said instinct would kick in when the time came to take her first human?

Maybe he had more faith in her abilities than she did.

Maybe he had decided to let her hunt on her own because he knew what she was capable of.

Maybe he was right outside the door, waiting for her to-

To what?

She peered into the darkness. There wasn't anyone here. There were no humans in the building, of that she was certain. She didn't smell anything except the putrid odor of decay. She didn't hear any hearts beating, nothing breathing or snorting or coughing.

She was alone.

With the rats.

She pressed a dial on her watch. The face glowed. She'd been here thirty minutes. She would wait five more.

She worked her way back along the wall to the door. There was no moonlight to break the gloom or cast a shadow through the broken windows. Irritation quickened her step. Why had he told her to meet him here? Was this some stupid initiation prank? If it was, she didn't find it funny. He'd know that soon enough.

She pushed at the door.

It creaked open.

He was waiting for her outside, his features pale in the dim light.

"Where have you been?"

He smiled and raised his arm.

A shiver of uncertainty ran up her spine. "What is that?"

He took one step closer and fired.

The dart from the crossbow caught her just under her left breast. A prick.

Warmth.

Then . . .

I SIT STRAIGHT UP IN BED-HEART POUNDING.

Christ.

What a weird dream.