thought dubiously. As a doctor, and a surgeon, he had performed numerous
blood transfusions, but he had never asked a patient to swallow the
blood whole. For a moment, he considered setting up an IV and
transfusing the blood into his own veins; at least that didn’t seem as
gross and unnatural as pouring the stuff down his throat. But would that
satisfy the growing ache in his stomach? Michael tried to remember the
last time he had eaten anything. It had to have been a day or so. One
way or another, he had been on the run ever since Lucian had bitten him
three nights ago.
No wonder I’m starving.
He contemplated the blood some more. Technically, it was
only cloned blood, but it looked real enough to him. All he needed to
do, according to Selene, was rip open the packet and gulp the blood
down. He had to assume she knew what she was talking about. For all he
knew, she drank this stuff every day.
He gagged at the thought.
“Forget it!” he blurted. There was no way he could go
through with it. Besides, maybe Selene was wrong. She said herself that
he was unique, that nobody really understood how this whole hybrid
business was supposed to work. Maybe he didn’t need blood after all.
He tossed the bag away in disgust. It plopped onto a
nearby counter.
That’s better, he thought.
He definitely felt weak, though, and light-headed. I need food. Real food.
On impulse, he threw his leather jacket back on. Selene
would not be back until nightfall, if she returned at all. He had plenty
of time to go find something to eat and still get back to the bunker
before she came looking for him. Besides, he’d go stir-crazy if he had
to stay cooped up here all day, alone with his thoughts.
Time for a breakfast run.
He passed a weapons rack on his way to the door. Should
he grab a gun or two? The idea made him uncomfortable. He had gone his
whole life without packing heat, and he resisted the idea that he had to
go armed from now on. The sun will be coming up in
an hour or so, he rationalized, so I’m not
likely to run into any insomniac vampires or werewolves. Plus, he
could always change into his hybrid form if he had to. He hadn’t needed
any firepower to defend himself against Viktor before….
Leaving the weapons behind, he exited the safe house. It
was still dark outside, and the snow was falling nonstop. A bumpy
mountain road, all but buried beneath the frozen precipitation, led away
from the deserted mine. Michael figured the road had to connect with
civilization at some point. He trudged down the road, feeling the cold
night wind blowing against his face. He thrust his hands into his coat
pockets in a futile attempt to keep warm.
It was a miserable night for a hike. The arctic wind
nipped at his exposed face. The chill seeped into his bones. His jacket
lacked a hood, so the snow fell directly onto his head and shoulders.
Melting snowflakes slipped beneath his collar, causing ice water to
trickle down his spine. He kept his eyes peeled for headlights, hoping
that maybe he could hitch a ride to the nearest bar or diner, but
apparently nobody was stupid enough to try driving through the blizzard.
The only bright side to the storm was that there didn’t seem to be any
hostile monsters out prowling around either. The only thing taking a
bite out of him was the cold.
Was Selene enduring an equally uncomfortable trek? He
wondered if she had made it back to the vampires’ mansion yet, and, if
so, what sort of reception she had run into. Dammit, he thought, I should have gone with
her. He hated the idea of her facing this other Elder, Marcus,
alone. She had sliced Viktor’s head in two. Did she really think the
other vampires were going to forgive that? What if
I never see her again?
No, he couldn’t allow himself to think like that. Selene had to come back, and not just because she
was his only guide to this strange, secret world of hers. Michael was
surprised by the
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