Tales of the Otherworld Read Free Page A

diving for a mouse.
    Something whispered behind him. Aaron swung around and focused on the sound with a speed and precision that still astounded him. Yet no one was there. He didn’t need his eyes and ears to tell him that. He sensed it—or, more accurately,
failed
to sense anyone.
    He replayed the sound in his mind. The whisper of leaves? The rustle of blowing paper? Both logical explanations…except that he’d been plagued by these odd noises behind him for days now. Aaron took a harder look around. Every sense told him there was no living being there, and yet …
    He shook off his unease and loped off to catch up with his dinner.
    Aaron took one last gulp of blood, shivering as the heat of it streamed down his throat. Then, with more reluctance than he cared to admit, he ran his tongue over the puncture wounds to stop the blood flow. He lifted his head and eased back on his haunches.
    “You can take more than that.”
    Aaron whirled. There, less than a foot away, stood a woman, one who gave off no sense of life; who had slipped up on him as quietly as a phantom. Her dark green woolen cloak blended into the shadows, only accentuating her copper red hair and pale skin. Under the cloak, Aaron caught a glimpse of a dress as finely made as the cloak, spun from the kind of cloud-soft wool he’d only ever seen in shops.
    She wasn’t beautiful, and she had to be almost as old as his mother, but there was something about her that dared him to look away. Maybe the piercing stare of her green eyes or the arrogant tilt to her sharp chin or the bemused smile on her lips—or maybe it was all of those things, challenging his brain to figure out what the combination meant.
    “You can take more than that,” she said again. When he only stared, she arched her brows. “Well?”
    “You’re a vampire,” he said slowly.
    A slight roll of her eyes. “I should hope so. Do you have many humans popping ’round to give you pointers on blood-taking?”
    “You’ve been following me.”
    A graceful shrug of her shoulders. “Curiosity. The curse of our race. Live long enough, and anything new tickles your fancy. And you certainly are new. Hereditary, I presume?”
    When his brows knitted, she said, “Vampirism is in your bloodline?”
    “Is there any other way?”
    “Yes, but you don’t strike me as the kind of young man who would choose such a thing.”
    His lip curled. “Who
would
choose such a thing?”
    Another elegant shrug, then she waved at the unconscious man. “You can feed more without killing him. Quite a bit more. It’s easier that way, so you don’t need to hunt every night.” Her gaze met his. “Unless you like to hunt every night?”
    When he didn’t answer, she continued. “Whether one enjoys the hunt or not, nightly can be taxing and inconvenient. Continue feeding, then, and I will—”
    “I don’t want to kill him.”
    An exasperated sigh. “May I finish? I was about to say that I will show you how to stop before you pose any danger to his life.” An arch of the brows. “Acceptable?”
    He nodded, but did nothing.
    Her lips twisted in a smile. “Here, let me turn my back and give you some privacy.”
    He waited until she’d turned around, then repositioned himself on the other side of the man so he could see her while feeding. Several times he stopped drinking, not trusting her to tell him when to cease. With exasperated patience, she had him continually check the man’s pulse. When it finally fluttered, she told him to stop.
    He closed his eyes, and luxuriated in the warm heaviness of a full stomach.
    “Better?” she said.
    He opened his eyes to see her watching him. He blinked, forced his fangs to retract, and got to his feet.
    “I can teach you more,” she said, voice almost a purr.
    “Thank you, but no. I don’t—won’t—need it.”
    He expected her to press for an explanation, but she just studied him, then nodded—that same infuriating half-smile on her lips.
    “You don’t intend