Immediately, I coughed and gagged, places deep in my stomach clenching against the scorching hot air. It was beating so loudly that it drowned out all other sound. I sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm the frantic pulse of my heart. Seeing him lying there, looking so completely helpless, only fueled my slowly rising panic.ĭespite my yelling and kicking, he lay useless in the corner of the closet as the house blazed around us. As I grew old and time stole away all my other memories, those would remain. These things were burned into my mind, scars written across my heart that would never fade. I didn’t have to see his eyes to remember their exact shade of blue I didn’t have to hear him talk to remember the exact timbre of his voice. Could the dead dream? And if so, what did they dream about? As he slumped in the corner with his thin face slack, I watched his eyes moving restlessly behind their lids and wondered if he was dreaming. It took skill and planning to take down a vampire, even a newbie like Shane. Shane lay across from me in a crumpled heap, still unconscious from the dart full of animal tranquilizers the arsonist had hit him with. I bucked wildly against my restraints, fighting against the panic trying to seep into my brain. Rancid-smelling smoke assaulted my nose and singed my throat, which was already raw from screaming. The closet was dark, except for the flickering light beneath the door. Icussed under my breath as the ropes binding my wrists tore at my raw flesh.
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