Fledgling (The Vampire Manifesto, Book Two) Read Online Free Page B

speculated how someone that young could get an appointment as a Principle, but she was well qualified for the task, test scores went up almost immediately after she was hired.
    Her ruby hair and delicious complexion reminded me of Dakota, my innocent little Dakota Theia, with the almond shaped eyes and the skin like electric velvet, yet even as I contemplated her, all I hungered after was just to kiss Girard softly on her stomach, my lips brushing softly against her skin, my tongue moving in slow circles. There was so many things that I envisioned myself doing to her at this moment and once I was done, all I wanted was her blood down my throat until my heartbeat began synchronizing its tempo with hers, beating in unison until hers ceased to beat altogether.
    “So please, answer all of our questions.” I demanded. “Do not lie. I’ll know.”
    Connor had repositioned himself somewhat so he could see me better. “What in the hell has gotten into you?”
    I thought about it for a moment. “I just really wanna fuck something then kill it.” I turned towards him. “What’s up with that?”
    He couldn’t contain his laughter. “It’s that young chick you encountered earlier. Her scent has made you blood drunk. Your senses are getting out of control and everything is being augmented. This is what I was cautioning you about earlier. You can’t go home like this, no, you don’t want to be near anybody you care about in this state. You need to feed first.”
    I couldn’t take my eyes off Principle Girard. “I agree.”
    “And preferably that girl you met earlier.” He added. “What’s her name again?”
    “Dakota Theia.” I replied. “Don’t act like you don’t remember.”
    He rolled his eyes. “Well her scent is in your system now; you’re blood drunk off the essence of her. That feeling won’t go away. Ever. She’ll always be in your thoughts, always in the back of your consciousness. That’s never good.”
    Girard had stopped crying, but she didn’t speak, she was frozen in fear, our tête-à-tête about how we can be so cavalier about murder slowly beginning to sink in. I think she’s starting to realize that no matter what she tells us, she’s never leaving this room alive.
    “What’s the big deal?” I asked. “So she gets me a little anxious, so what?”
    “Because the longer you delay in killing her, the messier the kill becomes. Her scent, her touch, her voice, even just the memory of meeting her for the first time, every conceivable thing about her, it will just overwhelm you and before you know it; she’ll be dead, literally torn apart, ripped to shreds.” Connor explained. “Trust me, because I speak from experience, I honestly don’t believe that you’re ready for that sort of kill. Not yet at least.”
    “And if I don’t kill her?” There was something he wasn’t divulging. “If I manage to keep my emotions in check?”
    He looked as if as if he didn’t want to answer. “Then you’ll fall in love and transform her into what you are now. Just so the two of you can spend an eternity together. Whether she aspires to or not.”
    “I’ll never do something like that.” How could he even think that I would? “Not to her, not to anyone.”
    “Trust me.” Connor slumped back in his chair. “You won’t have a choice.”
    I knew he was telling the truth, but it was the manner in which he declared it, the emotional impact behind it that grabbed my attention.
    “Is that what happened to you?” I sought to examine his answer. “Is that what happened the night you encountered me? Did you come to be blood drunk off my scent?”
    “You people are crazy.” Girard whispered to herself.
    “Why were you following me?” Connor demanded abruptly, infuriated at her accusation, slamming his fist down on the table.
    “Because they forced me.” She divulged.
    “Who made you?” She was disclosing the truth, but she was also being ambiguous on purpose, trying to prolong the last