Keeper of My Soul: Book Two of the Macauley Vampire Series by Rebecca Norinne Caudill

Author:Rebecca Norinne Caudill [Caudill, Rebecca Norinne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-05-17T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWELVE

William paused in the recitation of his story and shook his head as if to dislodge the memories. Dragging his hands aggressively down his face, the strength of his fingers marring the beauty of his features before his skin immediately healed, he drew in a deep breath he didn’t need and then exhaled slowly.

“I grilled her for days trying to find a chink her armor but she wouldn’t give me anything. She told me that her entire family was dead. Eammon had slaughtered them while he forced her to watch the massacre. She confided that he had tried to force each of the women to reveal their magic to him before slaughtering them where they stood.

“In passing she mentioned that he was would sometimes mumble something about their powers giving him protection from the maker. Only when it became clear that none, save Áine, possessed the talents he sought did he kill the whole lot of them. She wouldn’t divulge their names to me or speak of them again except to say that they were gone and there wasn’t anything I could do to her that was worse than that.

“She wouldn’t break. I admired her and I hated her because she had held strong where I had proved weak. Then again, those she loved most in the world were already dead and could no longer be used against her. When I was in her position I hadn’t been that fortunate.

“I recognized that I had to find another way to crush her impudence. I alternated between fear of her supposed powers, which much to my surprise and gratitude never made themselves known, and what Eammon would do to me once he saw that I was incapable of breaking her.”

William had brought her fresh blood each day in the form of a new victim Eammon had carted back to their lair but she declined the sustenance, refusing do to those that which Eammon had done to her family. Hoping to ignite her natural vampire urges, William would gather the victim close to her body before he would turn and feast on the human instead, describing to her at great length the sumptuous taste of the blood, the sensual feel of it sliding down his throat, infusing his body with sparks of pleasure. While she stared at him hungrily, fangs bared and throat working convulsively to swallow her discharged venom, she had still refused to drink. William remembered the searing pain of thirst when he had first turned and couldn’t fathom how she was able to resist the alluring pull of the warm, luscious liquid.

Day by day, week by week, and then month by month, Áine’s body weakened and Eammon grew impatient with William’s inability to strip her of her empathy and compassion. The pressure of the woman’s stubborn humanity was becoming too much for him to bear and he knew if he couldn’t break her that Eammon would punish him in ways he had never dreamed of before.

In his fury and

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