By Amanda Ashley
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There were hollows in her cheeks. He could feel each rib beneath the blankets that covered her. And she was young, much younger than he had first thought. " she murmured. " She lifted a trembling hand to her neck. " He searched her mind for her name. "No, Kelly. " He drew the bedspread over her, lifted her into his arms—bedspread, blankets, sheets, and all—and carried her to the faded overstuffed chair in the corner. Sitting down, he cradled her to his chest though he doubted his body—his cold, dead body—could offer her much heat.
Ramsey grimaced at the stench of old smoke and old sweat that flooded his nostrils. Chiavari took a seat at a back booth, and Ramsey slid in across from him. "Look around you," Chiavari said. " Ramsey shrugged. " "No. You see prey. Food. You are a young vampire. You will need to feed often, at least for a while. Forget what you were before. Who you were before. You are Vampyre now, and you can never go back to what you were. That life is gone. That man is gone. You have been reborn. Accept it. If you want to live, you will embrace your new life.
His skin was pale, though not sickly looking. He was tall, with the firm, trim build of an athlete. Tall, dark, and handsome, she thought. It described her husband perfectly. Husband. How she loved the word and all that it meant. He was the most wonderful man she had ever met. The thought made her smile. He would have said he wasn't a man at all. She had first met him at a carnival on Halloween night. She had gone to the Roskovitch Carnival because they claimed to have the body of "Count Alexi Kristov, the oldest vampire in existence," She had not believed in such things, of course, had never believed in ghosts and goblins or the like.