Written in Blood: A New Adult Vampire Romance Novella, Part Two. (The Unnatural Brethren Book 1) by Silvana G. Sánchez

Author:Silvana G. Sánchez [G. Sánchez, Silvana]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sinister Publishing House
Published: 2020-03-14T16:00:00+00:00

14

Welcome to Darkness

Years flew by in each other's company. London proved to be the ideal town for us to establish and build a life of our own.

The city cast a shade on Parisian innovation and offered every commodity I had learned to fancy; it lacked, however, the sense of aesthetic one found so abundant in La Ville Lumière. But I offered no complaints. Teeming with unpaved narrow streets and dark alleys, London held the perfect scenery to hunt my prey.

Out of one of those pitch-dark alleys, I emerged.

Running the tip of my tongue over my lower lip, I gathered every drop of the dark elixir that sustained me. And as these remnants hit my palate, my nerves tingled with unavoidable pleasure. A hint of a smile surfaced on my lips. I drew out the silk handkerchief from my vest's pocket and dabbed clean the corners of my mouth before leaving the scene of my feast.

The soothing warmth of the kill bathed every blood vessel in my unnatural body and kept me oblivious to the unforgiving cold sifting around me. The rush of excitement of my victim, I took into myself when I drank their fast-pulsing blood. Their fear was my gain; their doom, my blessing.

Age stopped the minute I gave in to the Dark, as Dristan had promised. After twelve years of glorious darkness, I could attest to this fact with all certainty: my mortal clock had ceased its ticking at four-and-twenty.

Strolling on the solitary streets at this hour amused me greatly. The stillness of the city granted me the precious opportunity to enjoy its many wonderful sights. The constant hum of the Thames' rushing waters delighted my senses and even the putrid stench of waste soiling its banks did not repel me, for it was all part of the city's decadent charm.

Not before long, I came upon our neighborhood's streets.

We had settled in Saint James Square, London's nec plus ultra vicinage, fashionable and on the rise.

The scarce members of our service knew of my preference for the night hours. They were paid well enough not to ask questions; whether they wondered about my reasons for staying up so late in the evening and rising early in the afternoon, I cared very little.

Without making a sound, I climbed upstairs, hoping to see her before she went to bed.

In the beginning of our life together, Alisa had taken my nightly schedule as her own. I relished those wonderful evenings of endless hours spent in her company, engaged in conversations of the most inconsequential kind—which I adored, coming from her lips.

Bliss beyond my expectations blessed the first years of our lives. Then, of course, the gradual withdrawal of her commitment installed itself for good, and she returned to her daily routines. And I understood the reasons behind her choice; after all, she was mortal. She needed to live in the light and enjoy her freedom to its utmost extent. She had every right to indulge in breakfasts with her friends, outings for lunch, and such other social affairs she so enjoyed.

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