heat burning him up from the inside out.
He forced his attention back to the screen and read his own post. He’d been trying to spark somebody’s memory.
SkullCreekVamp: I had the dream again. The details were so clear that I’m starting to think that it’s not a dream at all, but the real deal. I’m remembering what happened to me. The pain. The hunger. The presence. Anybody else remember details? I want to remember a face, but I can’t. Not yet.
Of course, that wasn’t true. Dillon knew exactly who was responsible for his current state—Jake. The older vamp had turned him in a desperate attempt to give him back the life that had been ripped away when Garret had inadvertently attacked him. It had been the anniversary of Garret’s turning and he’d been instinctively called back to the place of his death to relive those few moments when his humanity had slipped away. Like any vampire going through the turning, he’d been out of control. Mindless. Dillon had gotten in his way. He’d be six feet under right now if Jake hadn’t intervened and turned him before it was too late.
Dillon would never forget that moment. The anguish at feeling his life slipping away, the excitement when he’d drank from Jake and new life had rushed back through him, strong and more potent than anything he’d ever felt before.
Likewise, Jake remembered his own sire—Garret.
Garret was the only member of the vamp trio who couldn’t remember. Sure, he had a few images and impressions that had lingered in the two hundred years since he’d been turned in what was now the town square, but nothing clear when it came to the vamp responsible. One minute he’d been heading home after fighting for Texas independence, and the next he’d been attacked by a band of Mexican bandits. They’d robbed and killed him, or so the history books said. But someone—something—had happened along and changed all of that. One of the bandits? Maybe. Maybe not. He didn’t know. There’d been no formal “Hi, I’m so-and-so, the ancient vampire who’s going to turn you instead of leaving your dying carcass to rot.” Rather, one minute he’d been following the light into the hereafter, and the next that light had been obliterated by a shadow looming over him. He remembered the pain ripping through his body, the smell—sweet, intense, intoxicating—that had filled his head, and a gold medallion.
Dillon glanced at the small sketch Garret had made of the piece of jewelry. He was hoping to gather a little info on some recent turnings to see if he could find a newly turned vampire who remembered the same gold pendant. If so, maybe the new vamp would remember even more—a physical description, maybe even a name.
He scrolled down the screen, his gaze drinking in the various posts.
Wannabevamp: Stop worrying about the f@#$%^& dream and just enjoy. I would give anything to turn. I tried the new enamel fangs and while they worked pretty well, they’re nothing like the real thing.
Vamp4Life: Pain is a state of mind. A place you visit. If you choose not to go, then you’re home free and you don’t have anything to worry about. That, or you can try a Vicodin. Or even Xanax. Both work for me.
DarkAngel: So what if there was pain? The trick is not to fight it. Embrace the feeling, relish it, worship it. It’s who you are. Who we are.
BradtheImpaler: Got 3 prs of fangs. This really rad dentist in Queens made them 4 me and they’re sharp as hell. I get a discount on my next pair if I send him a referral. Wannabe, if ur up near Queens, want me to hook u up?
Fangtastic: I sell some high quality incisors if anyone’s inter ested. I’m even a preferred seller on eBay. I offer free shipping, too, if you order more than one pair. I also have some really cool vampire porn.
Lovrgrlvamp: I like pain. Spankings are my favorite. Maybe we should get together and whip each other. I’m game if you’re ever out the Chicago way. Or maybe I could head down to Texas. Whip me, cowboy. Whip me goooooooood…
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