When Darkness Hungers by J.K. Beck

Author:J.K. Beck [Beck, J.K.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780345525666
Publisher: Random House, Inc.
Published: 2012-06-25T22:00:00+00:00

The subway service tunnels beneath Los Angeles echoed with the noise of passing trains, but Serge didn’t notice. All he knew was the daemon. All he felt was the hunger and the darkness. That all-consuming black that had lifted up to cover him like a veil, winning against his will and burying him deep.

Now he saw through the eyes of evil. And inside him, hunger roared.

He stalked through the dark tunnels, his mind no longer fully his own. He felt need—to hunt, to kill—and a passion to rend and rip. To wallow in blood. To bathe in it. To become it.

Once upon a time he’d walked through the streets of London this way. London, Rome, Berlin. How many times had Derrick been by his side? How many times had they proven their magnificence in those wretched hives of humanity? And now, once again, his friend was in town.

Ah, yes, the possibilities were endless.

He threw his head back, his arms out, and reveled in the power that was him.

Like night, he moved through the tunnels, a dark force. A shadow. He searched the corners. The areas heated with Sterno cans. The hovels carved from blankets and old grocery carts.

Hollow-eyed humans looked up at him as he passed, their expressions dull. He kept moving. He wanted to feel the fear. He wanted to draw it out and consume it and let it fill him up.

Wanted and wanted and would take and take.

Except …

Except part of him wanted none of that.

The weak part. The part that tried to be in control. The part that never managed, truly, to keep the power that was Sergius down.

Now he stalked, keeping that whining, crying, remorseful part of himself squashed deep and firm. Blood would push him down even more. Blood, torture. Pain. All those things killed that part inside of himself that felt regret and remorse. That part that felt so fucking human. Time to try to shut it down completely. Lately, it had been too damn strong, managing to fight both the magnificent power of the daemon and the wildness of the beast. But the true Sergius had a toehold now, and that meant the daemon was riding high. He’d crush the weakness. Bury it forever.

He just needed to find fresh blood.

He rounded a corner and saw an area in the tunnel where a pile of stones suggested there’d been a collapse. He remembered when the tunnel under Hollywood Boulevard had done that very thing, and he eased forward, intrigued by what the destruction had left behind. What he saw was a treasure trove. A group of teens sitting around a fire. Their faces fresh, their eyes dancing. They weren’t homeless, they were playing. They’d come down here to get high and drink and fuck. And to die.

For a moment, he merely watched them, letting anticipation build. He picked a pretty female with blond curls and a doll-like face, so round and white she already didn’t look human. He was going to approach, invite her to take a walk with him, command her to come.

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