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She took a cautious step toward the kitchen.
No reaction.
Diana took another step. When there was still no reaction, she turned and ran. Her feet slid
on the tile floor of the kitchen as she grabbed the pole. She slid around the pickup area into the
kitchen itself, around the long cold ovens and past the refrigerators. She grabbed the freezer door
handle, skidding to a stop, almost falling.
Behind her she heard the sounds of her guards coming. She yanked the pin out of the handle,
opened the door, dashed into the freezer and pulled the door shut. She felt around in front of her
within the pitch-blackness of the small room.
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Chapter 15
His day just became longer.
“Francisco?”
“Diana? You cannot be here. Get out.”
She shook her head. “I brought you some food. It’s tuna and salmon.”
The demon thirst screamed for her blood, only to quiet at the mesmerizing beauty of the
woman standing so close. Francisco watched as she took a cautious step toward him, wincing as
she bumped into the chair.
“Diana, take a step to your left.”
She nodded, followed his instructions then paused, her eyes seeking him in the darkness.
“Take four steps forward.” He stood as she followed his instructions, stopping inches from
him. “Hold out your hand.”
In the darkness her eyes tried to find him, her complete trust in him shining in them. As she
brushed her hand along his arm, he fought the urge to pull her to him and sink his fangs into her
neck. He would not harm her; instead, he took the fish.
“You eat that, I’m going to work on these chains.”
He grabbed her arm, stopping her from moving around him. “Diana, you must leave. I do
not know if I can control myself.”
She brought her hand up to cup his cheek. “Just the fact that you are warning me lets me
know you won’t hurt me.” She leaned forward and kissed him.
“Diana,” he managed around the lump that had formed in his throat.
“Shh. Eat your fish.” She moved past him to follow the chain.
He ate as Diana worked at the bracket against the wall. The small sounds of exertion as she
alternately tugged and twisted the bracket competed with the gradually increasing shushing thump
of blood through her veins. The heat that rolled off her body in crimson waves aroused the man
and tempted the demon.
Francisco fought the hunger growing within him. The fish was only increasing his thirst for
blood. The desire to sink his fangs into her neck to drink the sweet nectar that he had only briefly
sampled filled him. Diana innocently tucked her hair behind her ear, exposing her neck where her
pulse thumped against the skin.
On the other side of the door, he could hear the frantic calls of her jailers searching the
restaurant. He knew he should send her out to them; she would be safer with them than in here
with him.
63
The Envoy
The desires of the Cruentus for blood raged, demanding he grab the woman. Francisco fought
against it. He closed his eyes to block the sight of her jugular vein pulsating against the alabaster
skin.
He took a deep breath only to be assaulted by the rancid stench of the blood waiting in the
glass just out of his reach. The stench was replaced by the scent of Diana; healthy female musk,
spicy and alive. He swam in that scent. No artificial floral concoction designed by a chemist in
some lab could compare to the natural fragrance of her.
The Thirst screamed for him to pull her to him, bury his face in her neck, pin her struggling
arms to her side, and slide his fangs through the skin into that luscious throbbing vessel. Allow the
ambrosia of her blood to fill his mouth and trickle down his throat in a warm stream. Francisco
shook his head violently, forcing the vision from his mind.
“Diana, you have to get out of here.” His voice sounded strained to his own ears, not the
commanding tone he needed.
Instead of doing as he asked, she pivoted on the balls of her feet and rose in a single graceful
motion. “Why?”
He silently cursed everything he loved about her. “The Cruentus—the blood thirst wants
your blood. I don’t think I can control it much longer.”
She didn’t run. Headstrong, foolishly brave woman that she was she stepped closer, wrapping
her arms around him. Holding him as one would an injured child, one hand pulling his head down
to rest on her shoulder as she stroked his hair and murmured soft words of comfort.
Francisco trembled at the tender yet dangerous gesture. As he opened his mouth to beg her
to leave, his fangs brushed the silken smoothness of her skin. He fisted his hands at his sides in an
attempt to refuse the commands of his violent thirst.
Diana shifted her position and one sharp tipped fang scratched her neck.
Reason deserted him as the Cruentus consumed him.
The monster wrapped its arms around her, holding her tightly. Its fangs sank into the tender
skin, puncturing the pulsing vein lying just under its surface; warm, sweet blood filled its mouth.
The woman struggled in its hold. The monster who once answered to Francisco tightened
his grip. He heard her yelp of pain, then she went limp in his arms.
The faint remainder of the man fought against the monster. Demanding it release her.
Demanding it stop satiating itself on her blood.
That small voice was weak. The thirst had been denied for too long. Forced to drink from
glasses filled with animal blood or eat food that pushed it back. Now it had a banquet, and that
annoying voice of reason was screaming.
The monster raised its head, leaving the banquet to fight against the shackles of control the
logical mind was using against it.
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65
It looked down longingly at the woman in its arms—her head rolled back, eyes closed—and
felt the human part of him struggle harder. Impossibly that weak voice gained strength. The chains
it bound around the monster grew stronger. Still it was not enough to deter the demon from his
feast. He bent his head to sample more of the intoxicating liqueur of her blood.
He turned and hissed as the door flew open and another vampire walked in. The small weak
voice of humanity broke loose, issuing a quickly cut off cry for help. The monster regained control,
backing away.
The vampire pushed up the sleeve of his hoodie and crossed the freezer slowly, stopping
next to the monster to hold out his arm.
The monster looked at the arm and sniffed. Vampire blood would taste sweeter than the
human, the voice said. He released the mortal, who fell to the floor with a soft thump. Grasping
the arm, he drew it to his mouth to drink deeply.
Delilah K. Stephans
Chapter 16
Warm, nourishing blood flowed down his throat. Each deep swallow of the elixir drove the
Cruentus back. Francisco’s sanity returned, fractured and muddied, but it did return. His memories
of the last few days were still a jumbled puzzle of images and sensations.
Carefully retracting his fangs, he pulled away, brushing a thumb over the pale skin of the
thin wrist. Watching as the small holes closed.
His gaze traveled up the slim arm. Auburn hair hung to the teen’s chin in an oily mess. A
gray hoodie made the boy’s pale skin even paler. Green eyes, too wise for the apparent age of their
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