Home > The Chosen (Night World #5)(40)

The Chosen (Night World #5)(40)
Author: L.J. Smith

That was suddenly excruciatingly clear. Undeniable. From the beginning he had struck a chord in her that

no one else had ever touched. He was so much like her-a hunter, a fighter. But he had honor, too.

However he might try to deny it or get around it, deep inside him there was still honor.

And like her, he knew the dark side of life, the pain, the violence. They had both seen-and done-things

that normal people wouldn't understand.

She was supposed to hate him... but from the beginning she'd seen herself in him. She had felt the

bond, the connection between them....

Rashel shook her head. "No!" She had to stop thinking these things. She would not surrender to the

darkness.

"You can't stop me, you know," Quinn said softly. "That ought to make things easier for you. You don't

even have to make a decision. It's all my fault. I'm very, very bad, and I'm going to make you a vampire."

Somehow that gave Rashel her voice back. "How can you do that-to someone you love?" she spat.

"Because I don't want you dead! Because as long as you're human, you're going to get yourself killed!"

He put his face close to hers, their foreheads almost touching. "I will not let you kill yourself," he said

through his teeth.

"If you make me a vampire, I will kill myself," Rashel said.

Her mind had cleared. However much she wanted to give in, however enticing the darkness might be, it

all disappeared when she thought of how it would end. She would be a vampire. She'd be driven by

bloodlust to do things that would horrify her right now. And she'd undoubtedly find excuses for doing

them. She would become a monster.

Quinn was looking shaken. She'd scared him, she could see it in his eyes.

"You'll feel differently once it's done," he said.

"No. Listen to me, Quinn." She kept her eyes on his, looking deep, trying to let him see the truth of what

she was saying. "If you make me a vampire, the moment I wake up I'll stab myself with my own knife.

Do you think I'm not brave enough?"

"You're too brave; that's your problem." He was faltering. The surface serenity was breaking up. But

that wasn't really helpful, Rashel realized, because underneath it was an agony of desperate confusion.

Quinn really couldn't see any other solution. Rashel couldn't see any herself-except that she didn't really

expect to survive tonight.

Quinn's face hardened, and she could see him pushing away doubts. "You'll get used to it," he said

harshly, his voice grating. "You'll see. Let's start now," he added.

And then he bit her.

He was so fast. Unbelievably fast. He caught her jaw and tilted her head back and to the side-not

roughly but with an irresistible control and precision. Then before Rashel had time to scream, she felt a

hot sting. She felt teeth, vampire teeth, extended to an impossible delicacy and sharpness, pierce her

flesh.

This is it. This is death.

Panic flooded her. But it wasn't death, of course-not yet. She wouldn't even be changed into a vampire

by a single exchange of blood. No, instead it would be slow torture... days of agony... pain....

She kept waiting for the pain.

Instead she felt a strange warmth and languor. Was he actually drinking her blood? All she could sense

was Quinn's mouth nuzzling at her neck, his arms around her tightly. And...

His mind.

It happened all at once. In a sudden silent explosion, white light engulfed her. It burst around her. She

was floating in it. Quinn was floating in it. It was shining around them and through them, and she could

feel a connection with Quinn that made their last connection seem like a faulty telephone line.

She knew him. She could see him, his soul, whatever you wanted to call it, whatever it was that made

him John Quinn. They seemed to be floating together in some other space, in a naked white light that

revealed everything and mercilessly lit up all the most secret places.

And if anyone had asked her, Rashel would have said that would be horrible, and she would have run

for her life to get away from it.

But it wasn't horrible. She could see dreadful dark bits in Quinn's mind, and dreadful dark bits in hers.

Tangled, thorny, scary parts, full of anger and hate. But there were so many other parts-some of them

almost unused-that were beautiful and strong and whole. There was so much potential. Rainbow places

that were aching to grow. Other parts that seemed to quiver with light, desperate to be awakened.

We ask so little of ourselves, Rashel thought in wonder. If everybody's like this-we stunt ourselves so

badly. We could be so much more....

I don't want you to be more. You 're amazing enough the way you are.

It was Quinn. Not even his voice, just-Quinn. His thoughts. And Rashel knew her thoughts flowed to

him without her even making an effort.

You know what I mean. Isn't this strange? Does this always happen with vampires?

Nothing like this has ever happened to me in my life, Quinn said.

What he felt was even more, and Rashel could sense it directly, in a dizzying sweet wave. There was an

understanding between them that ran deeper than any words could convey.

Whatever was happening to them, however they had gotten to this place, one thing was obvious. Under

the white light that revealed their inner selves, it was clear that small differences like being

vampire or human didn't matter. They were both just people. John Quinn and Rashel Jordan. People

who were stumbling through life trying to deal with the hurt.

Because there was hurt. There was pain in the landscape of Quinn's mind. Rashel sensed it without

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