The Mammoth Book of Paranormal Romance

treating his offspring like puppets who existed only to do his bidding, and he seemed particularly interested in dominating Ethan. Alexander’s power was usually absolute.
    “Who is this man, Ethan? Do you know him?” Grace clutched Ethan’s arm, her voice trembling, her fear saturating the air.
    Alexander narrowed his eyes and strode over to stand in front of Ethan. “What have you done? Why has my mental connection with you been weakened? I sensed the change and came to investigate because the only reason our bond would diminish is if you were truly dead. But you’re not. Instead here you are, seducing your mortal pet. I’d say a little punishment is in order.”
    Ethan’s mind reeled as he tried to grasp what Alexander said. How was it possible for their bond to be weakened? Alexander was his sire, his master. He couldn’t exist without their connection. Could he? No. That wasn’t possible.
    Just as Ethan opened his mouth to speak, Alexander smiled, displaying long, sharp fangs, and pulled Grace off the couch. She whimpered before going limp and silent. Alexander had taken over her mind. Ethan had seen him control humans thousands of times. Bending her backwards, as if he were performing a sensual dance move, Alexander plunged his fangs into Grace’s neck and began to suck greedily.
    The sound enraged Ethan and he leaped off the couch. Grace wouldn’t survive if he didn’t act immediately.
    He grabbed Alexander’s collar with all his strength and pulled hard, forcing the master’s mouth away from the ragged holes in Grace’s neck. Alexander released her and Grace crumpled to the floor, boneless. Ethan expected Alexander to attack him, but to his shock, the huge vampire laughed. He wiped his hand across his bloody mouth and licked his fingers.
    “So, you want to drink the leftovers? Be my guest. She’s almost dead - you’d better hurry. I’ll deal with you later.” Alexander laughed again, turned and stalked out of the door.
    Ethan dropped to his knees next to Grace. Her heartbeat was faint and crimson oozed from the torn vein. The rich smell of her blood caused his hunger to roar over him. His body shook with the struggle to resist draining her. If he used his saliva to close the wounds, he was terrified he’d lose control of himself and Grace would die. But if he didn’t, she’d die anyway.
    Her heart stuttered and, without thinking, he leaned down, ran his tongue over the gaping holes. The bleeding stopped. He gathered her into his arms and rocked her. He was astounded he could use his will force - that it still existed. He’d never been able to defy his master before. But it didn’t matter. Grace had lost so much blood he couldn’t see how she’d survive. He couldn’t give her any of his because he refused to condemn her to his miserable existence.
    As her heartbeat faltered, he cried. In his pain and frustration, he began keening and wailing, which started out ragged and broken, but soon grew powerful. As he reached the depths of his despair, all the sorrow of the last forty years poured out. The sound began to flow. He heard the sweet tone of his voice echoing through the sound chamber and he hugged her flaccid body tighter.
    He would give anything to save her.
    Mindless with grief, he felt the sound vibrations crash through him like a great ocean, reshaping his inner landscape, flooding his body with alien sensations. Waves of intense, unfamiliar emotions pounded his lifeless heart.
    After his death, he’d shut down most of his human feelings. All that mattered was feeding and surviving. Existing. The undead have no use for sadness and regret, so why was he overwhelmed by those feelings now?
    He shuddered as his body struggled to contain the onslaught, and was startled by the awareness of tears rolling down his cheeks.
    Tears? Vampires can’t cry. It’s impossible. I must be dying.
    In the midst of a soul-wrenching cry, the sound simply stopped. Without thought, his throat tightened and his mouth closed. He looked down to find Grace staring up at him, her heartbeat strong. The wounds on her neck had closed and were already healing.
    “Grace! How . . . That’s impossible. Your heart stopped.” Stunned, his voice cracked. Needing to assure himself that she was really alive, he leaned down and brushed her lips with his.
    “You saved me. Thank you,” Grace whispered.
    He shook his head, his tone knife-edged. “Don’t thank me. It’s my fault you were attacked. I should