Free A Vampire's Christmas Carol by Karen McCullough Page B

control.
    Helpless pity made her stomach twist into a
knot. Anger joined it as the spasms continued and his grunts grew
into louder groans. If Antoine had shown up right then, she
probably would have tried to stake him on the spot.
    Then Michael started screaming. He tried to
suppress it. But even his strong will couldn’t hold them all back.
They sometimes emerged as hideous gurgling sounds and sometimes as
anguished shrieks.
    She couldn’t bear it. That wrenching
expression of sheer agony cut into her like a knife, shredding her
nerves and twisting her heart. Tears burned her eyes and left hot
tracks down her cheeks.
    Carol raised the stake she held. Mercy
demanded she put him out of the horrible suffering. No one should
have to bear pain like this.
    She didn’t drive it into him.
    He didn’t want that mercy. Her arm sank down
to her side again, though she kept the stake ready should he move
to attack her. She had no right to put him out his misery just
because she couldn’t bear it. If he could stand it, so could
she.
    After ten long minutes, the screams and the
writhing died down. He lay quietly on his side, chest heaving.
    The fire popped while she waited for him to
move. The flames were dying down too, so she went over to put
another log on it, giving wide berth to the area where he sprawled.
She didn’t risk moving her gaze off him for more than a second or
two as she took pieces of wood from the bin and tossed them on the
fire. A small bucket nearby held pines cones. Carol threw in a
couple of those and drew in the fresh, outdoorsy scent they emitted
as the flames swallowed them.
    After a few more minutes, he rolled to his
side and looked up at her. No red glow filled his eyes, just sheer
mute agony.
    It hurt that she couldn’t do anything to ease
him. Couldn’t even sit with him and hold his hand. It hurt so badly
that she felt it churning away in her stomach.
    Then the blue depths were overshadowed as the
red glow flickered to life again. She forced herself to look away
from his eyes, watching the side of his face. He lifted his head to
look at her and rolled over onto hands and knees. After trying and
failing to push himself to his feet, he began to crawl toward her
on hands and knees, making a weird, high, keening moan that finally
resolved into words. “The blood. Fresh, hot blood.”
    He moved faster than he had last time, but
fortunately still not with the uncanny speed he’d shown earlier.
She could still dodge him. It made for a bizarre and pathetic
situation, though, as he crawled around the floor, trying to get to
her, and she ducked one way and the other to avoid letting him get
too close.
    It felt like it took forever before the
craving that held him in thrall began to recede and he dropped back
onto the floor beside the big desk, waiting to recover some
strength. When he rolled over, the red glow flickered fitfully in
his eyes, but it was fading.
    After a minute or two of heavy breathing, he
said, “Drop a cushion on the floor for me?”
    She got one from the loveseat and tossed it
to him. He made no attempt to catch it. When it hit the floor
beside him, he grabbed it and set it against the side of the desk.
Pushing up with his right arm, he managed to wedge the cushion
behind him so he could rest his shoulders against it.
    “That was bad. Carol… I might not be able to
restrain myself next time.”
    “You’re so weak now, you can’t catch me.”
    He shook his head. “Don’t depend on it. It
would only take one good burst of energy. I may still have that in
me. Maybe more. Desperation could drive me to more than you might
expect.”
    “All right. I hear you. I’m keeping my eyes
open.”
    “Good.” His head lolled back against the
pillow as though it took too much energy to keep it upright. “What
time is it?”
    “Quarter to six.”
    “Not much longer. Fill the time for me. Tell
me about the family you hope to have some day when you finally meet
your fantasy hero.” He barely