Free Savannah Past Midnight by Christine Edwards Page A

mine.
Both of us are growing frantic for more—more pleasure, more
fulfillment. I gasp as one of his hands slides into the silk bodice
of my gown, gently palming my breast.
    Losing control. Must stop this, now .
    The warning is like a screaming siren in my skull as
the lust and hunger rapidly spin into an unstoppable cyclone within
me.
    My fangs have fully dropped and he jerks back as his
pink tongue inadvertently nicks one.
    His blood … so rich and pure.
    He doesn’t have a chance to push me away before one
hand clamps down against his mouth and the other pins him against
the stone by his shoulder. My blade-like fangs waste no time
plunging into his tanned neck. His low, muffled cries of terror
barely register as the perfection of his warm blood floods my
mouth. The combination of sexual arousal and hunger makes it a far
more exquisite experience. I pull deeply, savoring his closeness,
his heat. The shared connection between us. His struggle soon
ceases and he moans in the pleasure that my bite provides. I didn’t
glamour him as I should have—I was far too excited to remember to
do so—but after the initial sting of the bite all he’s feeling is
bliss. I can hear his heartbeat become faint. I know I should pull
away, that I’ve already taken too much, but I don’t want my best
encounter yet to end so quickly. His blood is so tasty ….
    No, just a little more .
    His tall frame slumps against me as I ravage his neck
like a complete savage.
    “Cosette, stop immediately.”
    Severin’s voice behind me is uncharacteristically
flat and menacing. With difficulty I unhinge my jaw and pull away
from the beautiful young man.
    “Oh!”
    My stunned cry echoes helplessly throughout the
arches. Without my support he drops straight down to land in a heap
on the black and white marble floor. His vacant eyes are wide with
confusion.
    My eyes fly to my uncle’s, “We have to do something,
I … I took things too far. Tell me what to do. Help him,
please!”’
    With his eyes never leaving the corpse of the young
man, he says solemnly, “Nothing can be done for him now. We must
dispose of his body. This is what I’ve warned you against
repeatedly, Cosette. From now through to the end of your
existence—if it ever ends and assuming you have any conscience
whatsoever—you will regret the selfishness of the choice you just
made.”
    My hands tremble then close into fists by my side as
self-loathing engulfs me. I can’t help but dread the crushing look
of disappointment that Katerina and Ambrose will give me when they
find out what I did tonight. Never again. Never again will I run
the risk of drinking from someone I’m strongly attracted to. I
can’t be trusted. I’m a killer, a merciless killer. Only
disgust for my vile actions holds back my unshed tears.
     

Chapter
Eight
Present Day,
12:45 a.m.
Savannah,
Georgia
    “ F uckin’ stay down, man! That
guy is off the chain … need to let this one go!”
    In a fog I hear Alex shouting at me as sweat and
blood drip down into my one good eye. I struggle to push up from
the concrete, not wanting Mr. T-Rex Dickhead to take tonight’s win
from me. The ribs on my right side are pulsating in white hot pain,
but I’ll take that shit all day long rather than lose like a total
pussy. No, somehow he’s going down. I just have to find a way to
do it. Right fucking quick.
    His Southern drawl is menacing as he warns, “Get off
that floor and I’ll make you regret it.” A wad of his spit lands
two inches from my face.
    Nobody talks to me like that. Ever.
    My entire body burns in agony as I force myself up
from the filthy ground. I do my best not to stagger sideways as I
get my feet beneath me. Staring at him, I silently wonder where the
hell this guy came from. I thought I knew all the toughest fighters
in the southeast. It’s not that he’s particularly skilled; the
sheer mass of him is a force to be reckoned with. I’m just shy of
six and a half feet and he’s got several