Pretty When She Dies (Pretty When She Dies #1)(5)

She smiled. This was exactly what her father thought college was.

One big orgy.

The young man nuzzled her neck and ran his hand up her stomach to cup her breast. She tilted her head away from him and closed her eyes as his lips played with her skin. A shiver of excitement swirled through her as he licked her throat, then nibbled.

Yes, this is it, she thought. What I need.

Gliding around in his arms, she wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him down for a long deep kiss. His strong arms enfolded her. His hands grabbed her buttocks, drawing her sharply against him.

Her sense of reality was weakening. All she could feel was a terrible ache in her mouth and stomach. She licked his lips.

“You're a total freak, aren't you?” the young man said with delight.

She smiled at him and said, “You say freak too much,” then she buried her face in his neck, breathing him in. Her nails dug into his back as she took a bit of his flesh between her teeth. He shuddered.

“Oh, yeah, bite me, vamp babe,” he said huskily.

And she did.

Before she knew it, her mouth was full of his flesh and she was sucking hard. Rich, thick warmth filled her mouth. He staggered back, gripping her tightly against him. They hit a wall. He moaned with delight as she pulled harder on his neck.

I'm so hungry. This is what I need.

She took more and more from him as he writhed against her, grinding his hard cock against her belly. His blood filled her, overwhelmed her, but she needed more. She was so hungry, so very hungry.

He was spent and gone the next minute, her t-shirt wet where he had come hard as he died. She turned and looked into the darkness of the room.

Yes, what she needed was here.

She moved easily across the room, stepping over people, moving toward the bed. In the midst of desperate, crazed sex was the quarterback of the school with a pretty little blond. Gripping his shoulder, she yanked him off the girl. Startled, he began to protest.

Then she was on him, her mouth consuming his in a hungry kiss. His hands gripped her to tear her away, but then he melted into her touch as she overwhelmed his senses. Beneath them, the girl twisted and screamed at them.

Amaliya ignored her and pulled the young man's head to one side, biting deeply. She hit his jugular. Blood sprayed the blond. The angry girl let out a startled sound, then realized what was happening and began to shriek.

With deadly swiftness, Amaliya gripped the girl's throat in one hand and dragged her upright. Without hesitation, she bit the girl as the quarterback fell back from her grasp.

It was then the others in the room realized what was happening. They saw the raven-haired girl perched on their leader, drinking hard from the throat of the blond, and the body of their famed quarterback with his throat ripped open. The stampede to the door began immediately as screams filled the room.

But a darkly garbed man who smiled with feral delight met them at the door as they drew near.

“Now, now,” he said in proper British tones. “You mustn't leave. She's not full yet.”





Chapter Two


Amaliya gasped with delight as her body was finally sated. The hunger was gone and she felt wonderful and strong. Arching her back, she knelt on the bed, running her hands over her blood soaked clothing, up over her breasts.

Strong, cold hands gripped her thighs. She gasped as a long tongue trailed up her stomach before biting one nipple through her top.

Those same hands gripped her hair and dragged her against a strong chest.

Mesmerized, she gazed into the dark blue eyes of the man holding her.

His white-blond hair fell over his brow as he peered down at her.

“I know you,” she whispered softly.

“Yes, you do,” he answered.

Falling back on the blood soaked bed, she wrapped her arms around the one who made her. She clung to him as he hastily undressed her.

Her drunken mind struggled to understand, but she could not fully comprehend this insane, wild dream.

He had made her; she was his.

He was so lovely, with short fair hair, pale skin, and beautiful eyes.

He kissed her body, then bit her neck. His body was so cold when he pushed deep into her, making her drink from him.

This isn't real, she thought.

Her voice was ragged with passion and need as he f*cked her senseless. When he finally came hard into her, she let out a desperate, terrified scream.

Then the darkness came.

***

“We are death,” a proper British voice said into her formless dream.



Wakefulness tugged at her eyes. Slowly, she opened them.

What am I doing here?

The room made no sense to her. Her last memory was of meeting Professor Sumner for coffee. They had been walking back to his car and then-

“It is our instinct, you see. To feed. We need to feed. Especially when we are first reborn,” Professor Sumner's voice continued.

Slowly, she sat up. Her body felt oddly refreshed, yet crusty with some vile substance. The room smelled odd, like copper.

“It is not uncommon for a newly-transformed vampire to be completely mad with the hunger. Sometimes, they do not ever recover, even after feeding. So, how are you, dear? Are you mad?”

Amaliya looked toward the sound of his voice. He sat in a chair next to the bed. His suit was completely black, even the shirt beneath it.

His blond hair was swept back from his high forehead and his keen eyes were resting firmly on her face. For months, he had been her secret obsession. His every class had been like worship to her. She adored him. When he had asked her to coffee, all she had wanted to do was rip his clothes off and find out if everything she dreamed about was true.