Seduced by Crimson Read Free Page B

to sleep over the loss of her son, blissfully ignorant that something unheard-of was being attempted in
Crimson
City
tonight: unturning a vampire.
    Xiao Fei put the razored thimble on her left thumb, then began the chant. She kept it soft, knowing the prayer itself had no effect. She had long since stopped believing in a beneficent deity—Buddha or otherwise. But the words helped focus her thoughts and drowned out the other noises in her head.
    As she chanted, she extended her right forearm so that the third-lowest tattooed teardrop hovered just above Donny's mouth. Then, at the appropriate moment, she pressed her left thumb to the tattoo.
    The razor cut was quick and sharp, but she'd long since stopped reacting to pain. Her blood began to flow. Her chant changed to echo the blood-letting. First came a staccato beat to mimic the steady drip, but as her words came faster and more fluid, so too did the stream of blood. Without aid of the razor, the wound widened until it encompassed the whole of that tattooed teardrop. And the red stream poured strong and steady into Donny's mouth.
    "Ewww. Gross!"
    Xiao Fei didn't stop chanting. But she did slant an annoyed look at Pei Ling, whose large frame rilled the doorway. He'd just planned and executed a vampire slaughter, then set fire to the fangs' remains, and he was grossed out by at a little blood? It amused her how squeamish Americans could be.
    "Uh, Fei…" he said, his skin going a little green. "You're spilling."
    Xiao Fei's attention flew back to her arm. Her blood still poured steadily into Donny's mouth—dead center between the fangs—but the stupid phnong wasn't swallowing. What now?
    Fortunately, Mr. Chen had the answer. He stroked his son's throat from chin to clavicle, just as if the boy were a dog who needed to swallow a pill. Stroke. Stroke. Stroke—swallow! She saw it. Mr. Chen saw it and praised Buddha. In the doorway, Pei Ling grunted.
    A couple more strokes, a few more swallows, and then the convulsions began. Vamps were strong. Incredibly strong. And no leather belts were going to restrain him, especially as his body began violent spasms.
    Donny's eyes flew open, and Xiao Fei saw madness inside. A growl began low in his throat that quickly built into a howl both inhuman and piercingly loud.
    "Damn," Pei Ling cursed. "He'll bring more fangs!"
    Xiao Fei felt the same fear, but she couldn't help. She was a small Cambodian refugee, too small to restrain Donny or muffle his cries. Besides, she had to focus and close her wound or the entire floor would soon be covered with her blood.
    Pop
! The belt across Donny's chest burst. No way was he going to stay restrained.
    Mr. Chen pressed down on his son's shoulders. He spoke a garbled litany of pleas, prayers, and admonitions to behave, but he was old and not very strong. If Donny got his arm free, he might very well kill his father in his confusion.
    Then Pei Ling was there, in a headfirst dive on top of Donny. It was a dangerous place to be—neck exposed on a crazed vampire—but Xiao Fei had never questioned her friend's willingness to be foolish in the pursuit of a greater good. That too was very ABC.
    She reached out to help, but her hands were slick with her own blood. Xiao Fei had to concentrate. She had to close her wound. She wouldn't be good to anyone otherwise.
    Stepping back, she forced herself to close her eyes and concentrate. The sealing chant came difficult and slow. It was hard to block out the grunts and howls of the scuffle, but she did and remained focused. That was her true power, after all. Mental focus. Prayerful attitude.
    Her skin sealed. She felt the rush of warmth as health returned to her wrist and palm. She was whole once again. She opened her eyes, only now realizing the other sounds had ended. No feral growls. No frantic pleas. Were they all dead?
    The first thing she saw was Pei Ling still atop Donny. His skin was slick with sweat, but his chest rose and lowered with breaths, and his face