his arms. “Sweetheart, are you all right?”
“I don’t think it likes that name,” Fallon said in a breathy whisper. “Did you see how fast it attacked?” She stood above Lysander, looking down at me with apprehension. “You going to be okay, Lyssa?”
I felt fine, physically. The wounds were already healing, but the blood loss had awakened my hunger—a dangerous thing when mortals were around. As if someone had turned up a dial, I smelled Fallon’s fear more potently than I had before. It was a richer, thicker smell that tempted me like warm apple pie at Christmas. My stomach ached with emptiness as the beast inside begged for a small sample. “I need blood,” I said, trying to hold back the desperation in my voice.
“Of course,” Lysander said without hesitation.
Fallon took a quick step back, though I knew she had no real fear of me. We’d already been through some trying situations, and even at my worst I’d been able to hold back the urge to feed on her. I believed she was doing it out of respect, to give me privacy to share blood with my mate. Lysander was already unbuttoning the cuff of his shirt as Fallon took her seat at the computer and resumed the search.
“Hey,” she said after clicking a few more keys on the keyboard. “I’m not finding any historical references, but the name means ‘unconquerable.’”
“Must be some immortal spirit then.” Nicholas stood next to the desk and peered over Fallon’s shoulder.
“Aren’t all spirits immortal?” she asked, sounding as if she were about to call him Captain Obvious.
“He means a spirit belonging to a supernatural creature.” Lysander’s face contorted in confusion. “I’ve never heard of an immortal being trapped in spirit form. Though it might explain why this thing has not attacked Fallon.”
“I found that odd as well,” Nicholas said. “I didn’t want to alarm the human by saying it, though.”
“The human is still in the room,” Fallon muttered.
“Then you should feel lucky,” Nicholas retorted. “It might only be a matter of time before that thing you let out turns on you.”
“I swear, I didn’t mean—”
“Leave her be, Nicholas,” Lysander growled, interrupting their pissing match. “Pandora’s boxes were known to tempt humans. Fallon is not completely at fault for this. But you may have one thing right. Immortal blood is very potent. If this thing needs to regain strength, it would go for the richest source first, not the weakest. Ours would be much more of a draw than human blood.” Lysander offered his bare wrist to me. “Drink, love. I don’t want you becoming weak.”
I took his offering without any hesitation. As my sire and an ancient vampire, Lysander’s blood was like candy to me—sweet and thick. It brought with it more power and energy than any other blood I could find, and it strengthened our bond, both as mates and as master and fledgling.
As soon as my teeth sank into his tender flesh, before I could savor the first drop of blood, a wild swarm of air encircled us. The temperature dropped again. A force like a speeding truck slammed into me, knocking me backwards. I crashed into the metal arm of the futon, and pain erupted behind my eyes.
“No,” Lysander yelled.
I shook off the pain and jumped to my feet, but the thing had already attacked. I watched Lysander’s arm being jerked upward by an invisible force. His normally flawless face was speckled by small red dots—blood.
I tried to reach out for him, but he moved too fast. His body jerked from side to side, and I couldn’t get a grip on him. He twisted violently as if locked in a tug-of-war. It was as if the thing holding him was trying to tear his arm off. He grunted and arched his free arm, swiping at the air while digging his heels into the ground. The struggle had Lysander knocking into the walls, the futon, and the desk as he tried to remove himself from the invisible grip.
Fallon shot out of her chair and
“I don’t think it likes that name,” Fallon said in a breathy whisper. “Did you see how fast it attacked?” She stood above Lysander, looking down at me with apprehension. “You going to be okay, Lyssa?”
I felt fine, physically. The wounds were already healing, but the blood loss had awakened my hunger—a dangerous thing when mortals were around. As if someone had turned up a dial, I smelled Fallon’s fear more potently than I had before. It was a richer, thicker smell that tempted me like warm apple pie at Christmas. My stomach ached with emptiness as the beast inside begged for a small sample. “I need blood,” I said, trying to hold back the desperation in my voice.
“Of course,” Lysander said without hesitation.
Fallon took a quick step back, though I knew she had no real fear of me. We’d already been through some trying situations, and even at my worst I’d been able to hold back the urge to feed on her. I believed she was doing it out of respect, to give me privacy to share blood with my mate. Lysander was already unbuttoning the cuff of his shirt as Fallon took her seat at the computer and resumed the search.
“Hey,” she said after clicking a few more keys on the keyboard. “I’m not finding any historical references, but the name means ‘unconquerable.’”
“Must be some immortal spirit then.” Nicholas stood next to the desk and peered over Fallon’s shoulder.
“Aren’t all spirits immortal?” she asked, sounding as if she were about to call him Captain Obvious.
“He means a spirit belonging to a supernatural creature.” Lysander’s face contorted in confusion. “I’ve never heard of an immortal being trapped in spirit form. Though it might explain why this thing has not attacked Fallon.”
“I found that odd as well,” Nicholas said. “I didn’t want to alarm the human by saying it, though.”
“The human is still in the room,” Fallon muttered.
“Then you should feel lucky,” Nicholas retorted. “It might only be a matter of time before that thing you let out turns on you.”
“I swear, I didn’t mean—”
“Leave her be, Nicholas,” Lysander growled, interrupting their pissing match. “Pandora’s boxes were known to tempt humans. Fallon is not completely at fault for this. But you may have one thing right. Immortal blood is very potent. If this thing needs to regain strength, it would go for the richest source first, not the weakest. Ours would be much more of a draw than human blood.” Lysander offered his bare wrist to me. “Drink, love. I don’t want you becoming weak.”
I took his offering without any hesitation. As my sire and an ancient vampire, Lysander’s blood was like candy to me—sweet and thick. It brought with it more power and energy than any other blood I could find, and it strengthened our bond, both as mates and as master and fledgling.
As soon as my teeth sank into his tender flesh, before I could savor the first drop of blood, a wild swarm of air encircled us. The temperature dropped again. A force like a speeding truck slammed into me, knocking me backwards. I crashed into the metal arm of the futon, and pain erupted behind my eyes.
“No,” Lysander yelled.
I shook off the pain and jumped to my feet, but the thing had already attacked. I watched Lysander’s arm being jerked upward by an invisible force. His normally flawless face was speckled by small red dots—blood.
I tried to reach out for him, but he moved too fast. His body jerked from side to side, and I couldn’t get a grip on him. He twisted violently as if locked in a tug-of-war. It was as if the thing holding him was trying to tear his arm off. He grunted and arched his free arm, swiping at the air while digging his heels into the ground. The struggle had Lysander knocking into the walls, the futon, and the desk as he tried to remove himself from the invisible grip.
Fallon shot out of her chair and