Free Giver of Light by Nicola Claire Page B

making me freeze, when perhaps I could have thought of something to get me the fuck out of his hold. As it was, I was blank with fear. Once he bit me, I knew I'd be done for. Nothing could stop his influence then.
    I didn't have time to think of anything else, because his hands began to rip at my sweater to gain better access at my neck and the blood vessel there and his fangs pierced my skin. There'd be no softening the sting and pain of the bite, this was all about control and discipline. My punishment for attempting to escape him. Suddenly his fangs left my neck and I thought he had changed his mind, only to have him flip me over onto my back and for his mouth to resume the same spot above my pulse and his fangs to slide in once again. This time he had the front of my body pinned beneath him and his intent was perfectly clear: pain. He tore at my flesh with his fingernails, scraping and scarring my skin. His movements lightning fast. So many gouges, so many tears to flesh. So much blood. He alternated between creating gashes and then creating bruises. His fists pummelling at my sides. But, all I could feel was the terrible pain of his sucking my blood at my neck and the shock that this was actually happening.
    I felt a tear run down my cheek as I fought the desire to give up. To just let this happen, to not fight and then it would all be over. As the tear drop tracked its way down past my cheek and over my jaw, then onto my neck, I remembered. Blood, dripping, falling, sliding over the same track. Someone's blood, someone important. I had to honour that person, so their blood was not shed in vain. My breath left me in a rush and I tightened my hands into fists, preparing to pound against the marauding vampire on top of me. As soon as my right hand tightened, I realised I still held my little knife.
    I settled my grip more accurately and raised it over his back. It wasn't silver, it wouldn't hold him for long, but nobody, vampire or human, likes to have their heart stabbed with a knife. He'd shed it within seconds, but seconds may just be long enough. Just as I felt his pounding of fists against my ribs switch up a notch in speed and force, I sent the knife home, knowing exactly what angle to use, how much force would be required and what spot to enter at.
    It went in right up to the hilt and he stopped. I pushed against his chest with all my might and rolled him off me. Panting and scurrying away like a crab. I didn't take my eyes off him until I reached the pot plant with the miniature palm and had to look for the key. It took three precious seconds to find it, another four to stumble to the door and an awful, excruciatingly painful, five seconds to get the key in the lock and turn it. The door releasing and opening back towards me, making me take a staggering, imbalanced step back into the room, before it swung wide open.
    I took one last glance over my shoulder and screamed. Jonathan was behind me, reaching forward, a look of utter desperation on his face, combined with a feral look of murder in his eyes. His fingers brushed down my front as I fell backwards through the door, still under cover from the sun on the porch. He followed, landing on top of me again, pushing what little air was left in my lungs out and slamming me back hard against the wooden planks of the stoop.
    I kicked and punched and writhed and screamed. I gave everything I had, but not enough. I was so close, so close to the sun, I couldn't believe how cruel fate could be. My renewed energy was waning, he was still so determined to cause pain and so strong. I also new I was still bleeding from his bite, he hadn't licked it when I stabbed him, just pulled cleanly free. And the scrapes and scratches were seeping into the torn material of my jumper and shirt. How much blood I had lost I was unsure, just thinking about it made me feel dizzy.
    “You are incredible, Hunter. I had heard, but this is truly remarkable. So ill, so frail, still you are able to