The Last True Vampire(75)

“Ronan!” Mikhail’s command was white noise in the back of Ronan’s mind. Another wave of memories crested in his consciousness and Ronan was swallowed by the undertow. The room faded away and he was transported into the past, into the memory of an Ancient One, reliving a life that wasn’t his.

“Ronan!”

He couldn’t breathe. Fear seized him and he broke the surface of the memory, coming back into the present. The familiar expansion of his lungs failed no matter how much air he took in through his nose.

“Your body is dying, Ronan. The transition is nearly complete.” Mikhail leaned over Ronan, holding the male’s body down as he thrashed against his bonds. “Don’t fight it. I’ll release you soon, I swear. Let it happen and the pain won’t be as severe. Once you feed, your lungs will begin to function again, but until then, you don’t need oxygen to survive. Try not to panic.”

Transition.

His own memories came back to him in a rush. He’d walked into Mikhail’s study, expecting to continue their discussion. But the male had attacked, taking Ronan down to the floor to drink him dry. His world faded around him and he floated. Mikhail pressed his wrist to Ronan’s mouth and Ronan drank. Drank and drank until he thought he’d burst. And then everything had gone dark.

“How long?” He closed his eyes, focused past the restraints, and picked through the myriad sounds for that of Mikhail’s heartbeat. The too-slow, sporadic thrum centered Ronan and at the same time caused his thirst to flare hot in his throat. “How long have I been in transition?”

“Almost three days,” Mikhail said. Ronan kept his eyes closed and his focus centered. As his body stilled, his friend relaxed his grip and slowly pulled away. “You’re nearing the end. All that’s left is for you to feed.”

The memories of the Collective scratched at the back of his mind, forcing themselves to the forefront of his thoughts, but he refused to succumb to its pull. Rather, he listened to the sound of Mikhail’s pulse, let the sound calm him. If he could just settle the fuck down, he could sate the burning thirst that was no doubt sending him quickly toward insanity and Mikhail would free him.

“I’m under control,” he said through clenched teeth. In his mind the words were a murmur, though to his ears as good as an angry shout. He dropped down to the equivalent of a panting whisper. “I can do this, Mikhail. Unbind my wrists and let me feed.”

To prove his point he lay still as death, which wasn’t a far cry from his current physical state, on the mattress. The absence of regular bodily function—his mouth not producing saliva, his still lungs and almost non-existent heartbeat—threatened to send him back toward panic. The emptiness he felt at his core, endless and dark, made him want to scream with fear, but Ronan took control of his thoughts. This was all part of the transition. Feeding would reawaken his body. Though he was technically dying, he was also reborn. This was what he had wanted for so long. He’d willingly sacrificed his soul.#p#分页标题#e#

Finally, he was vampire.

“You’ll adjust in time.” Mikhail unlocked one of the manacles that secured Ronan to the bed, and Ronan rolled his wrist to alleviate the stiffness. He squinted. Even in the darkened room the brightness permeated his eyes like needles spearing the sockets. “All of your senses are more acute. You’ll learn to differentiate between scents and sounds. Without sunlight, your already-keen eyesight will allow you to see plainly in the darkest of nights. And there is something else.…”

What was coming was no surprise to Ronan. After all, he’d drawn on Mikhail’s strength for decades. “The dhampirs will sense that I’ve been turned and they’ll draw on my power.”

“It will be different than you’re used to. You’ve been on the receiving end for decades. Now, you’ll be giving. The draw feels like…” Mikhail paused as though searching for the right word.

“A violation?” Ronan ventured as he tried futilely to swallow.

“In a way.” Without another word Mikhail released Ronan’s other wrist. “You’ll forgive me for not freeing your ankles just yet. I have to be sure.”

Ronan shot upright and the room blurred with his speed. “Sure of what?”

“Jenner!” Mikhail called. Ronan cringed from the volume but forced his mind to adjust to the discomfort.

A moment later the bedroom door swung open and Jenner walked in, escorting a female Ronan didn’t recognize. He cocked his head and looked askance at Mikhail. Her heart fluttered with nerves, jacking up her pulse rate along with a rich bloom of scent that made Ronan’s mouth water. Or at least it would have if it weren’t so gods-damned dry. The female was excited and a little scared, too. Her reaction called to the predator in him and a secondary set of fangs punched violently down from his gums, throbbing. If he didn’t sink them into her throat, now, he’d go mad.