Her Yearning for Blood Read Online Free
Author: Tim Greaton
was for the whole weekend. She promised you’d be home by Sunday afternoon.”
“I can’t stay here till then,” I protested . “Rachel and I are taking the bus to the mall on Sunday.”
“There’s always next week,” Evan suggested.
“Stephen King won’t be signing books at Books-A-Million next week.”
A loud crash came from a nother room . People were yelling. Evan snatched the phone back.
“I’m sorry but you won’t be seeing Stephen King Sunday .”
I opened my mouth to argue but Evan had already left the room , slamming the door behind him. I heard the ominous sound of a lock snapping in place.
What had I gotten myself into ?
4
Thomas sat at the huge mahogany desk and stared out the large window beside him. An ultraviolet coating on the glass made it possible for him to look out at the sunlit grounds of the meticulously manicured estate, a property that had been in the clan’s possession since colonial times. One of the human gardeners swirled around a tree with a state-of-the art riding lawn mower . Apparently u naware of the hundred brutal souls inside who would like nothing so much as t o drain the life from his healthy young flesh , the young man sang and bobbed his head to music that pour ed from a pair of ear buds. Thomas could easily have dissected the music from the small engine clatter to identify the melody, but his thoughts were elsewhere.
His eyes flicked to the tear-off calendar on the right corner of the desk. Most members of the clan kept some version of a death calendar , a stark reminder of the price one paid for exposure to the vampire virus. The last page of Belinda’s calendar sat there like an enemy flag to remind him that even the strongest among them couldn’t outrun the tragedy of their condition. Belinda had so far beaten the odds by almost two weeks, but ultimately she too would fall prey to mindlessness and rage.
Thomas tapped her calendar page and stared at the blood red numerals: 1825.
1825 days, five years , usually to the day, that was the lifespan of a vampire ’s mind .
He leaned back in Belinda’s—now his—deep leather chair and smiled grimly. The irony was not lost on him. The clans were easily the most powerful force on the planet, bar none. Money, power, stealth, the clans had it all. Even individual vampires were physically stronger and often more mentally acute than the humans from whom they were spawned, but nature had issued one irrefutable, terri fying decree: the genetic mutations that gave them so much superiority would ultimately burn like a torch inside their skulls until nothing remained, nothing but hunger and rage.
“Zombies,” Caroline said as she stepped into his office, “I’m so sick of seeing them advertised on TV and in the movies. Have you heard of that show “The Walking Dead”? Makes me feel like flying out to California or wherever the hell it is that they film that disgusting mess —”
“What have we heard fro m the team in Maine?” Thomas asked . He had no time for pop culture n or novice vampire s who actually still cared about anything humans said or did. It wouldn’t be long before the dwindling of her short lifespan would burn away all interest in anything but survival, but for now s he had to be i gnore d . The short, previously plump but rapidly thinning , redhead was at least efficient in her duties.
“Carlson called in,” the young woman said. “He and the others are spending the rest of the day in a motel in Portland. They’ll be in the Town of G roacherville early tonight.”
“Keep me posted,” Thomas said, turning his chair to face out the window again.
“There’s one more thing, sir.”
Curious, Thomas glanced back at her.
“Our people caught two Vermont clansmen. Carlson wants to know what to do with them.”
“ The bitch must know about the rogue,” Thomas s pat , placing his hands on the cool wood of his desk. He was, of course, referring to the impetuous Vermont
“I can’t stay here till then,” I protested . “Rachel and I are taking the bus to the mall on Sunday.”
“There’s always next week,” Evan suggested.
“Stephen King won’t be signing books at Books-A-Million next week.”
A loud crash came from a nother room . People were yelling. Evan snatched the phone back.
“I’m sorry but you won’t be seeing Stephen King Sunday .”
I opened my mouth to argue but Evan had already left the room , slamming the door behind him. I heard the ominous sound of a lock snapping in place.
What had I gotten myself into ?
4
Thomas sat at the huge mahogany desk and stared out the large window beside him. An ultraviolet coating on the glass made it possible for him to look out at the sunlit grounds of the meticulously manicured estate, a property that had been in the clan’s possession since colonial times. One of the human gardeners swirled around a tree with a state-of-the art riding lawn mower . Apparently u naware of the hundred brutal souls inside who would like nothing so much as t o drain the life from his healthy young flesh , the young man sang and bobbed his head to music that pour ed from a pair of ear buds. Thomas could easily have dissected the music from the small engine clatter to identify the melody, but his thoughts were elsewhere.
His eyes flicked to the tear-off calendar on the right corner of the desk. Most members of the clan kept some version of a death calendar , a stark reminder of the price one paid for exposure to the vampire virus. The last page of Belinda’s calendar sat there like an enemy flag to remind him that even the strongest among them couldn’t outrun the tragedy of their condition. Belinda had so far beaten the odds by almost two weeks, but ultimately she too would fall prey to mindlessness and rage.
Thomas tapped her calendar page and stared at the blood red numerals: 1825.
1825 days, five years , usually to the day, that was the lifespan of a vampire ’s mind .
He leaned back in Belinda’s—now his—deep leather chair and smiled grimly. The irony was not lost on him. The clans were easily the most powerful force on the planet, bar none. Money, power, stealth, the clans had it all. Even individual vampires were physically stronger and often more mentally acute than the humans from whom they were spawned, but nature had issued one irrefutable, terri fying decree: the genetic mutations that gave them so much superiority would ultimately burn like a torch inside their skulls until nothing remained, nothing but hunger and rage.
“Zombies,” Caroline said as she stepped into his office, “I’m so sick of seeing them advertised on TV and in the movies. Have you heard of that show “The Walking Dead”? Makes me feel like flying out to California or wherever the hell it is that they film that disgusting mess —”
“What have we heard fro m the team in Maine?” Thomas asked . He had no time for pop culture n or novice vampire s who actually still cared about anything humans said or did. It wouldn’t be long before the dwindling of her short lifespan would burn away all interest in anything but survival, but for now s he had to be i gnore d . The short, previously plump but rapidly thinning , redhead was at least efficient in her duties.
“Carlson called in,” the young woman said. “He and the others are spending the rest of the day in a motel in Portland. They’ll be in the Town of G roacherville early tonight.”
“Keep me posted,” Thomas said, turning his chair to face out the window again.
“There’s one more thing, sir.”
Curious, Thomas glanced back at her.
“Our people caught two Vermont clansmen. Carlson wants to know what to do with them.”
“ The bitch must know about the rogue,” Thomas s pat , placing his hands on the cool wood of his desk. He was, of course, referring to the impetuous Vermont
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