Carpathian 03 - Dark Gold

fell past her hips as she massaged the shampoo into her scalp. What was she going to do? She had no idea, and none seemed forthcoming.
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    Hunger was ever present, gnawing at her until her mind seemed consumed with it. She could taste the spice of Aidan's blood on her tongue. Her mouth watered, and her body cried out for more. Tears mingled with the water pouring over her face. She couldn't pretend this wasn't happening. Worst of all, she could barely tolerate being apart from Aidan. She could feel her mind, of its own accord, reaching for him. Her heart was heavy, almost grief-stricken, away from him. She could not stop thinking about him.
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    "I hate you, what you've done to me," she whispered aloud, hoping he was listening to her mind.
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    She dressed slowly, choosing her clothes carefully. Her favorite pair of jeans, worn and faded with two rips in them. She loved the feel of them against her skin. They were so normal, so much Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    a part of her everyday life. Her favorite ivory lace cardigan, with the little pearl buttons that always made her feel feminine.
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    As she unwrapped the towel from her hair, she looked at herself in the mirror for the first time.
    She was slightly shocked there was even a reflection. She had a hysterical impulse to call Thomas Ivan and tell him he needed to rethink some of his ideas for his silly vampire games. He didn't seem quite so brilliant anymore. Still, she looked fragile, pale, her eyes too large for her face. She touched her neck. There was smooth, satin skin, no scars, no faded wounds. Lifting her hands in wonder, she studied her long fingernails. She had never been able to grow long nails. Her fingers clenched into fists.
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    She could not stay in this place. She needed to figure out how to get Joshua to safety. On bare feet she padded down the hallway. There was no need to turn on lights; she could see quite clearly in the darkness. Once again her mind was tuning itself to Aidan's, and she forced it away, out of danger. She didn't want him to know what she was thinking or feeling. She didn't want to acknowledge that she was any different from any other human being. Very slowly she walked down the stairs.
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    She knew exactly where Joshua was. Unerringly she found her way to the room where he was sleeping. She stood in the doorway and simply watched him, her heart aching for both of them.
    He looked so small and vulnerable. His bright hair was a curly halo on his pillow. She could hear his soft breathing.
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    Alexandria approached the bed slowly, misty tears blurring her vision. Joshua had lost so much.
    She had been a poor substitute for their parents. Not that she hadn't tried, but she had never managed to get Joshua out of the worst neighborhood in the city. It seemed a terrible irony that now, at last, he was in a mansion, surrounded by everything money could buy and going to one of the most prestigious schools around, and the man who had made it all possible was a vampire.
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    She sat on the goose down quilt and smoothed a palm over its thickness. What was she going to do? The burning question. The only question. Could she take Joshua and run? Would Aidan let her go? She knew, somewhere deep inside herself, that he had allowed her to pull away from him when he was forcing her to feed. He was far more powerful than she could conceive, and he was concealing the full extent of it from her.
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    She let her breath escape slowly. She had no relatives to take Joshua to. There was no one to help her. Nowhere to run. She leaned close to kiss the top of his head. At once she became aware of the ebb and flow of his blood. She could hear it as it throbbed through veins bubbling with life. She became fascinated by the pulse beating in his neck. She could smell the fresh blood, and her mouth watered with need. She inhaled deeply, her cheek brushing Joshua's neck.
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    Alexandria felt the incisors then, sharp and ready against her tongue. Horrified, she sprang away from the bed, away from the sleeping child. That she reached the door in a single leap barely registered. With one hand clamped tightly over her mouth, she fled down the hall and through the house, jerked open the front door, and ran into the dark night, where she belonged.
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    She ran as fast and as far as she could, each step draining the strength from her, sobs tearing at her chest. The fog was now no more than a thin mist,