Soulless (A Zombie Erotic Romance) Read Online Free Page B

Soulless (A Zombie Erotic Romance)
Book: Soulless (A Zombie Erotic Romance) Read Online Free
Author: Cerys du Lys
Tags: Contemporary Romance, paranormal romance, paranormal erotic romance, Erotic Romance, Zombie Apocalypse, vampire books, zombie romance, zombie erotic romance
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defeated I was.
    Others wanted to feel alive. The touch
of warm skin igniting life inside of them, bringing them some
semblance of normalness back to their cool, clumsy bodies. Strong
thoughts and feelings, sensations and emotions, they wanted all of
it.
    I wanted it, too. Evan ran side by
side with me, holding my hand, while the noisy clatter of his
crossbow rang through the air and gave away our every move. All the
others needed to do was listen for a moment and they'd know where
we went, whether we lost sight of them or not. We needed to go
faster, but I couldn't.
    Evan could, I knew. If he let go of my
hand he could flee to safety without worry. Even if he didn't know
about the trees in the courtyard and how the college students here
used to use them to sneak out at night, he should be fine running
to the front gates and leaving the way he came in. If I let him go,
if he ran faster, he'd be free.
    He held my hand loosely, running with
me, but I stopped and let his hand go. That was it, I thought. I
expected to see him continue running towards the rear entrance and
out into the open air, but he didn't. He stopped and turned around,
looking at me with a puzzled expression.
    "Go," I said. "You can get away if you
leave me here. They won't hurt me. I'll be fine."
    "I'm sure you will," he said, smiling.
He took my hand in his again and squeezed it tight. "Come on. I
have an idea."
    "Didn't you hear me?" I said. Looking
back, I saw the others gaining on us. I stood in place, thinking to
force Evan to leave me, fighting against his gentle
tugs.
    "I heard you fine, Sadie. I just don't
like your plan. Why not try going along with mine?"
    He looked at me, smiling, not moving
now. We just stood there quietly while the others threatened to
catch up to us. I turned and looked and saw the nearest one only a
few long library table's lengths away. Our chaser stumbled towards
us, persevering despite the difficulty.
    Evan tugged my hand lightly once more
and this time I went with him.
    "This is insane," I said. "I'm not
fast enough."
    "You don't have to be fast," he said.
"Just watch."
    We reached the stairs to the second
floor of the library. My legs felt thick and slippery like grape
jelly. It was difficult to climb stairs on the best of days for me,
and after climbing over the walls to get in here and running this
far, now was not one of those better days.
    "I can't climb stairs well," I
said.
    Evan grinned. "That's the entire
point."
    I had no idea what he meant.
Apparently he didn't need me to know, either. Kneeling fast,
slipping one hand behind my knees and holding my back with the
other, he lifted me up and cradled me in his arms.
    "Evan!" I shrieked. "This isn't going
to work!"
    Evan laughed, climbing the stairs one
at a time, steady yet fast. "Oh, it's not?"
    I looked down, staring at the others
following us. At the base of the stairs, barely an arm's length
away from us, they hesitated. One of them leaped forwards and
grabbed at Evan's foot.
    I sucked in air and held my breath.
Evan casually walked up the stairs, lifting his foot away from the
outstretched hand right before it would have grabbed the cuff of
his pants. Our assailant's head smacked against the step with a
thud and he slid back down the steps, befuddled. I knew that
wouldn't keep him distracted for more than a moment, but for now it
worked.
    What scars would it leave, though?
Evan carried me up the stairs and I looked back sadly, worrying. I
knew they wanted to catch him, to kill him, but it hurt to watch
them. We might not feel pain as fully as anyone else, but it left
its mark nonetheless. If the failed attacker gained a scar, some
bruise, he probably wouldn't care, but it'd leave a
mark.
    I thought of them as marks of
inhumanity, of difference. If most people cut themselves, they used
bandages or ointment to help it heal, but in our confused, awkward
states we really couldn't. Besides the fact that it took a lot of
effort, sometimes I never even thought about it.
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