Joey W. Hill - Vampire Queen 7 - Vampire Instinct by Joey W. Hill

Author:Joey W. Hill [Hill, Joey W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0100-12-31T14:00:00+00:00

girls were, how often they exchanged touch, he thought he’d let Nerida sleep in Miah’s cell tonight. Along the same line as his

thoughts about William and Matthew, and after seeing what had happened here, he knew Nerida would be safe with the bigger

girl, even in bloodlust. And tonight particularly, he wasn’t going to make anyone be alone.

Chumani sent him a wan smile where she knelt between the two injured females. Squaring his shoulders, pushing away the

pointless yet almost overwhelming urge to take Chumani’s place, Mal turned his attention to the next matter.

He strode across the enclosure, toward Jeremiah. Leonidas was well and truly gone, the boy’s eyes staring glasslike down on

Jeremiah’s bent head. Mal went to a squat, studying the two. Jeremiah was coiled inside the spread of Leonidas’s thighs,

bracing himself on one with a bloodstained hand. He lifted his head when Mal appeared in the corner of his vision, though Mal

was sure he’d heard his approach. Or maybe not. The boy’s expression looked distant, his mind obviously sunk deep into

somewhere else.

“She’s going to be fine,” Mal said. “They both are, thanks to you. Thanks to you all.”

Jeremiah’s expression didn’t change, but Mal didn’t think that was because the boy didn’t hear him. Elisa’s words were

replaying in his mind, and he was quite certain Jeremiah already knew she was going to be all right. How that was possible, he

didn’t know, but he wouldn’t address that now, and not just because the fledgling was in no shape to answer pointed

questions. Mal didn’t trust himself to keep a handle on what was simmering in his own mind.

The possessiveness he was feeling was all animal instinct, but he of all people knew the dangers of vampire and human alike

denying their animalistic natures. Mal’s vampire nature was seething, wanting to take something apart. He was still young

enough, in vampire terms, to have to deal with the ragged edge of his own bloodlust in an environment saturated with this kind

of violence. And this young vampire had removed the one justified outlet to deal with that, while inadvertently moving himself

into the bull’s-eye range.

“You . . . kill us?” The question was asked in a dull mutter, as if the words had no real meaning or interest to the boy.

“Not today,” Mal said. Reaching out, he closed his hand over the boy’s wrist, attached to the hand that was mired in

Leonidas’s chest with the stake. “Let go, boy. It’s all right. He’s gone.”

Jeremiah blinked. In the end, Mal had to loosen his fingers, staining his own with the clotting and cooling blood. “Go back to

your cell; shut the gate. The staff are going to come in and treat Miah. We’ll get Elisa back to the house and tend her there. I’ll leave Chumani and Tokala here to watch over you all tonight. In case you need anything.”

Jeremiah stared at his bloodied hand, limp in Mal’s grip. Slowly, he drew it away, cradled it as if it were something fragile, his eyes shifting to the shaft of wood still protruding from the dead fledgling.

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