Emma (Dark Fire) Read Free

pixie streaked away.
    The pain was just enough to break the freak’s tight hold on her brain. Her single thought mirrored the pixie’s action. She jumped up, and threw herself into a mad dash toward the forest behind her. Never once did she consider fighting the deadly creature with the face of an angel. She knew her only chance at living lay in outrunning the fanged creature, the vampire.
    Over the thrum of her heart, she heard his laughter. It was dark and ominous just like the earlier thunder. The sound made the hair on the back of her neck stand up, prickling in animalistic fear.
    Dodging around mushroom trees and lunging over bulging roots, she tried not to spare any energy wondering where in the world all the freaky stuff came from or why all of it had been dumped in her lap.
    Nearly to the edge of the tree line, the tip of her sneaker clipped a thick, purple root. She stumbled. Crying out, she threw her hands outward and tumbled to the ground, landing near the base of another giant mushroom. She rolled, but he was nearly there.
    Running her hand across the rough ground, she frantically searched for something she could use as a weapon. Her hand grazed a smooth, hard surface. Not having time to be picky, she clasped the giant thorn in her fist.
    His hand clenched around her arm, jerking her around to face him as if she weighed less than a rag doll. Inhuman strength stared her in the face. She’d never had a chance at freedom; he’d just let her think she was escaping.
    His dark hiss surrounded her, one filled with anticipation.
    She glanced into his eyes, watching in sick horror as the tiny red vessels covering his eyes multiplied, growing thicker. The mass of veins pulsed with the beat of his heart.
    He smiled. Up close, his fangs appeared much sharper.
    His face blurred.
    She rapidly blinked, trying to clear her vision. The movement didn’t help.
    His features seemed to melt, shifting as if water flowed down his face. His appearance firmed. No longer did he appear a gorgeous young man. Unkempt blond hair dangled into his face. His large nose, which perfectly matched his mule-shaped face, flared as he inhaled. The intensity of his gaze increased. He looked hungry.
    Crouching above her, he sucked in a lungful of air. He held it, appearing to savor the sensation. “Hmmm, I love the smell of fear. It coats the skin making the kill so much sweeter.”
    Like a physical blow, the words struck her, terrifying her. Her desperate need to survive urged her toward action before the vampire had time to bite her, but her desire to live was stronger than her fear so she forced herself to wait for the perfect opening.
    She flexed her fingers around her makeshift weapon. Old and gray, the banana-sized thorn must have fallen from one of the mushroom trees. Its sharply pointed end curved upward like a thorn from a rose bush, while the flat base fit into the palm of her hand.
    The vampire focused on her throat. He didn’t seem to notice the weapon she held at her side. Either that or he arrogantly ignored it.
    She glanced toward the forest, desperately needing a diversion but it didn’t look like one would stumble out of the forest at just the right moment. She would’ve welcomed anything, even a bear. Choking back another surge of fear, she knew she would have to make her own distraction.
    She bit her lip against a surge of uncertainty and stopped struggling against the vampire.
    Looking up at him, she boldly caught his gaze. “Want a taste?” She aimed for a husky, seductive voice, but her question squeaked out of her throat.
    He paused. Confusion flitted across his face before he carelessly shrugged. “I’ll be taking more than a taste when I rip into your throat.”
    Acting terrified, she pretended to drop in a dead faint, while slipping the thorn in front of her.
    “Dammit, I hate a fainter,” he said amid a snarl. “They go limp and there goes all that fear enhanced sweat coating her skin. I like the skin moist and