Read Sacrifice Me: The Complete Season One Online
Authors: Sarra Cannon
“You are so beautiful,” he said. His
voice was rough and filled with longing. “I have wanted you
from the moment I saw you beating up those vampires in the alley.”
My skin was freezing from the rain and every time
his hand brushed against the skin underneath the shirt, I trembled
with fear and desire. The thought of his hands exploring every inch
of my bare skin sent waves of longing through me, warmth growing
between my thighs.
Impatient, I reached for the zipper on his
sweatshirt, pulling it down and pushing it from his shoulders.
Underneath he was wearing a black t-shirt that clung to his body,
every ridge of his muscles defined and hard beneath the thin fabric.
Drops of water fell to the floor all around us and his skin glistened
with rain. He lifted the shirt from his body in one swift motion,
then reached for the bottom of my shirt—his shirt—and
ripped it open, buttons flying.
His strong hands burned against the cold skin of
my waist as he pulled my black leggings down. I stepped out of them,
completely naked and vulnerable before him. In the back of my mind,
warning bells went off, telling me my heart couldn’t come back
from this. My soul tried to warn me that all those walls I’d
spent years carefully constructing around myself were being ripped
down with every touch of his lips against mine.
But I refused to listen.
I didn’t care about tomorrow. All I cared
about was right now. This moment. And all I wanted was to feel him
against me. Inside me.
My hands reached for the belt at his waist and his
stomach rippled at the touch of my skin against his. He moaned and
kissed me harder as I pulled his belt from his jeans.
His hands explored my naked skin, leaving a trail
of heat in their wake. I shuddered against him as he leaned over me,
our bare chests pressed tightly against each other.
Rend kissed me, then moved his mouth across my
cheek and down toward my shoulder. He pushed the white shirt down,
exposing the skin at the base of my neck. Just as I had earlier at
his house, I lifted my chin, giving him complete access. Wanting him
more than ever.
His lips brushed against my sensitive skin and I
shivered, digging my fingers into his biceps.
His body went rigid and he let out a low growl.
The sound sent a wave of fear through me. His mouth opened against my
skin and two sharp points dug into me, breaking the skin as I cried
out in pain.
I jerked away from him, but he held me down
against the top of the table, his strength too much for me. He seemed
to be frozen in place as desire and fear waged war inside my core.
What was happening to him?
Finally, he wrenched himself away from me, a loud
groan escaping as he moved quickly across the room, his form nothing
more than a blur of shadows.
I sat up and pulled what was left of the white
dress shirt tight around my trembling form.
“Rend?” My voice wavered. I stood and
backed as far as I could against the wall, my arms wrapped around
myself like a bandage. Warm blood trickled from the small wounds at
my neck, and I knew what he was. I knew it, but I didn’t want
to believe it.
I shook my head, unable to stop the tears from
falling down my cheeks.
Rend stood beside the window, his hand gripping
the wooden frame with such power it had partially crumbled in his
hand. His back rose and fell with each deep, rapid breath.
“I thought I could control it,” he
finally said, his voice tense and filled with darkness. “This
is why I’m dangerous for you, Franki.”
I yearned for him and feared him in that moment,
body and soul surrendered to a man I could never have. The pain of it
split me in two as my body shivered against the wall of my small
apartment.
“This is why we can never be together,”
he said.
He turned to me then, his face cloaked in shadow,
but enough light coming through the window for me to see two white
fangs protruding from his mouth, my red blood smeared across his
lips.
Episode 4: The Dying
Rend wiped the blood from his lips.
My blood.
But he couldn’t wipe the hunger from his
eyes. Hunger I had stupidly mistaken for something different
entirely. His chest rose and fell with each labored breath, and I
wondered what kind of self-control he still had at this point. Was I
in danger?
I clutched the torn shirt that covered my body,
pulling it tighter across my cold skin. I pressed my back against the
wall of my small campus apartment, desperately trying to make sense
of what had just happened.
I was torn between an intense desire for him and
an even more intense desire to get the fuck out of dodge.
At my neck, blood pulsed and dripped from two
small wounds. My skin throbbed. His teeth had barely punctured the
surface, but it was enough to rip us apart.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were one
of them?” I asked. I could hear the judgment in my tone, but I
knew what I was feeling was less about hating what he was and more
about hating that he’d lied about it.
“I’m not one of them,” he said.
His voice was grating and rough, low like an animal’s growl.
A piece of the wooden frame of the window crumbled
and fell to the floor at his feet. He released his hold on the wood
and moved away.
I flinched and pushed back against the wall,
realizing with sudden terror that there was no where else to go. If
he wanted to kill me, there would be nothing I could do to stop him.
Rend took a couple steps toward me, but when I
flinched, he stopped cold. His forehead wrinkled with tension and he
swallowed hard. “You’re afraid of me,” he said,
disgust dripping from his tone.
“You just grew fangs and bit me,” I
said. “Is there some other reaction I should be having right
now?”
“Dammit, Franki, don’t make jokes
right now,” he growled. “You don’t understand.”
“I understand perfectly,” I said,
lifting my eyes to his. “You lied to me about everything. About
keeping me safe. About wanting to protect me. You lied about who you
are.”
Even as I said those words, I knew I was holding
back the one thing that hurt most.
He had lied about wanting me.
I thought he wanted me the same way I wanted him.
I believed there was something real between us. Something special. I
thought there was true passion in the way he kissed me.
But the whole time, he wanted the same thing those
three vampires in the alley behind his club had wanted. He wasn’t
attracted to me.
He was attracted to my blood.
I was disgusted and heart-sick. I very rarely let
myself be vulnerable around men—or anyone, really—and I
felt stupid for letting down my guard around him.
He hadn’t killed me, but he may as well
have. I wanted him so badly, and to bring me so close and then take
it all away was cruel.
“You should go,” I said. It came out
timid and weak. Just seconds ago, the last thing in the world I
wanted was to be apart from him.
Now, I couldn’t send him away fast enough.
“We need to talk about this,” he said,
taking two steps toward me. “You have to listen to me.”
“I don’t have to do anything,” I
said. My eyes flashed with anger and he stopped moving. I welcomed
the anger. Embraced it. The more I embraced the anger, the faster the
heartache part of it descended into the darkness. “I want you
to get the hell out of here.”
Rend’s eyes darkened to a deep pool of
blackness.
My legs grew weak and I had to lean against the
wall for support. My heart thundered in my chest.
“Go,” I said again, this time with
less conviction and more fear.
Rend’s hand closed into a tight fist. His
jaw tensed as he slammed his fist into the wall, leaving a huge hole.
He lifted the side table into the air and threw it to the ground with
such force, the floor beneath my feet vibrated.
Then, in an instant, he had crossed the room to
me. His body pressed against mine, crushing me against the wall.
He brought a hand to my throat and used one finger
to turn my head to the side. My bleeding neck was completely exposed
to him, and in that moment, I was certain this was the end.
He leaned in close, his breath hot against my
cheek.
“I didn’t ask for any of this,”
he said. “I am not one of them, Franki. Not anymore.”
I closed my eyes and waited, trembling. My body
betrayed me by responding with desire instead of terror. Part of me
understood even then that desire was a million times more dangerous.
“Please,” I said in the tiniest
whisper. A single tear slid down my cheek and onto his hand. “Please
go.”
Rend released his hold on my throat and ran his
index finger softly along my skin, tracing the path of my tear. I
opened my eyes and met his black stare.
“I’m sorry,” he said. He shook
his head and backed away. “I’m so sorry, Franki.”
For a long moment, our eyes were locked together
in mutual regret and sorrow.
Rend looked away first, his gaze dropping to the
floor. He opened his mouth as if to say something more, but then he
shook his head and backed away. His body disintegrated into shadow.
One minute he was whole and human, and the next, he was nothing more
than a cloud of black smoke that hovered for only a moment before
slipping through the crack under my door.
I slid down the wall until I hit the floor. I
rested my head on bent knees, hugging them so tightly, I could hardly
breathe. I wanted nothing more than to rewind the night. I should
have been more careful. I should have protected myself better.
Not from vampires or demons or even the Devil
himself.
I should have protected myself from love.
“Franki?”
Katy shook my arm. I opened my eyes and found her
standing above me, concern etched on her face.
“Are you all right?” she asked, an
edge of panic in her voice. “What the hell happened?”
Oh shit.
My eyes opened wider and I looked around, seeing
the apartment and my torn clothes the way Katy must be seeing it. Our
side table was smashed, my books were all over the floor, there was
dried blood all over my shirt and neck.
How the hell was I going to explain this? I sucked
at lying, and I couldn’t even begin to think of a good enough
explanation for this that didn’t sound insane.
Even the truth sounded insane.
I reached for her hand and she pulled me to my
feet. I put my arms around her and hugged her as tight as I could. “I
need to tell you something,” I said. “But you have to
promise me you won’t have me committed to an asylum.”
Katy pulled away and narrowed her eyes at me.
“You’re seriously scaring me here,” she said.
“First, you don’t come home from work. You don’t
call or text me to say what’s up. Now, I come home to find you
curled up asleep on the floor with a blood-stained ripped shirt on?
This isn’t like you at all, Franki.”
“I know,” I said. “I’ve
had some serious shit going on the past few days. I promise I’ll
explain everything, but can you make a pot of coffee first while I
get cleaned up?”
“Are you on drugs or something?” she
asked. Her entire body was tense.
“I wish,” I muttered.
Her eyes flashed wide, and I shook my head.
“No, okay? I’m not on drugs. I don’t
want to be on drugs. I don’t plan to do drugs,” I said.
“Just do me a favor and stop trying to guess or figure out
what’s going on, because trust me, you’ll never in a
million years guess this.”
“Franki—”
“Coffee,” I said, stepping around her
and making my way to the bathroom. If I was really going to attempt
to make enough sense of all this to explain it to her, I was going to
need that coffee. And I had to get out of this stupid shirt.
I grabbed a clean washcloth from under the sink
and ran the water until it got steaming hot. I carefully wiped the
dried blood from my neck, then stared at the two small
puncture-wounds. They looked exactly like what you’d expect a
vampire bite to look like.
I must have seen more than a dozen vampire movies
in my life, but not once had I ever believed they could really exist.
Even being attacked by those three in the alley hadn’t made it
feel as real as seeing the actual marks on my skin.
Rend is a vampire.
The thought brought on a wave of nausea. I gripped
the edge of the sink and took several deep breaths. How could I have
missed the fact that he was different?
I hadn’t, though. Not completely. I’d
caught the references to Rend being older than your average human.
I’d seen the strange drawings in his office and known he was
capable of great magic.
The truth was I hadn’t allowed myself to put
two-and-two together. I let my desire for him cloud my ability to
care about anything else.
The hot water running in the sink had steamed up
the mirror. I wiped a section clear and looked at myself in the
mirror again. I brought my fingers up to the small teeth marks.