Combust: a vampire and firefighter paranormal romance (Underground Encounters Book 7) by Lisa Carlisle

Author:Lisa Carlisle [Carlisle, Lisa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-09-01T18:30:00+00:00

Nike

As the weeks passed, I adjusted to immortality. Although I’d already taken on a more nocturnal schedule since I’d been with Michel, the absolute break from sunlight was more difficult than I’d imagined. A world of darkness is literally that—dark. Fortunately, my vision was more acute, even in the dark. I suppose that made up for some adjustments.

Drinking the blood from a human source both fascinated and disgusted me. I hoped that I would learn to shed my mortal repulsion of tapping someone’s vein to sap their life force, but that would likely take time.

Sex was amazing with all my senses turned up a notch, but after the honeymoon period, the malaise returned. I’d thought choosing one world would end the feeling of being off-kilter.

I was wrong.

Oh, what the hell. Maybe it was just me.

Something wasn’t right, and I couldn’t exactly place what it was. Rather than immortality bringing us together, it seemed like it was pushing us apart. I’d snap at Michel with little provocation. I tried to blame it on the adjustment, that perhaps my hormones were out of whack, but I sensed that was bullshit. Something was gnawing inside me and I took it out on him. What a jerk I was.

Michel remained patient with me, saying it would take time, but I saw how my words cut him. He loved to climb in the rock-climbing gym after hours, so nobody would see how easily he could scamper up walls. Or he’d go out and experience live music or clubs, like Vamps. But not lately. He’d grown withdrawn, spending more time brooding alone in a room at home.

One night after we’d visited a couple of donors in Salem to feed, we returned to our place. Few words were spoken. It was clear that a canyon was spreading between us. Michel suggested we walk out in the backyard. It was a moonless night with only a few stars, the darkness as bleak as our situation.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

Good question. I wish I knew the answer. “I don’t know. Something’s off.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just—something is just wonky. Maybe I’m just screwed up from the change.”

“You haven’t been a nightwalker for long. It will take some time to adjust.”

“That part I expected,” I answered. “But there’s just something that’s—what’s the right word—lacking?”

“In your life?”

Life was an odd word to use now, but how else to explain the existence of the undead?

“Yes.”

He eyed me with wariness. “In our relationship?”

“No,” I answered quickly. “Yes. Maybe.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You’re not making it easy to follow.”

“I know. You’ve been good to me all this time and I’ve been a jerk lately. I should probably thank you for immortality instead of being so bitchy.”

His lips curled into a sneer. “I wouldn’t expect anyone to thank their maker for this existence. It’s not what you thought it would be, is it?”

I studied his face, trying to interpret what he meant. “Being a nightwalker?”

“Yes.” He raised his chin. “I sense your frustration.”

For some reason, that struck a sour note.

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