Taste of Grief (Just One Bite #3) (15 page)

Arriving safely on her doorstep, Diandra carried an
unresisting Lizbeth inside and set her down gently on the loveseat in the
parlor. She knew logically that Lizbeth was much stronger now than she'd ever
been, but in her heart all she wanted was to tend to the woman she loved with
every fiber of her being. Eamon hurried to Lizbeth's side and examined her
critically. The wounds were already gone but the blood left behind on her skin
told the tale in stark clarity.

"The Lesbian Murders," Eamon said flatly, and
Diandra nodded. There'd been a spate of murders in Rehoboth Beach over the last
couple of months. Nine women had been murdered- most had frequented a popular
gay bar, and several had been murdered after leaving the club. All had been
dealt one blow with an unidentified blunt object and tied to a tree with thick
rope. Then, while they were still unconscious and unable to fight back, their
throats and wrists were slashed. They bled to death and the killer used the
spilled blood to write "LESBIAN BITCH" on the tree trunk before
leaving them behind to die. Now they knew the identity of the murderer and
there was not a damned thing they could do about it. Carson was evidently a
busy man- he had his fingers in lots of pies around Sussex County.

Adrian was very quiet as he brought a pail of warm water and
a couple damp cloths. He knelt beside the loveseat and gingerly washed the
blood off. Lizbeth continued to lie back on the couch, unmoving as he worked
and conversation flowed around her. When the water started to cool down and was
a dark pink shade, Adrian nodded in satisfaction and went to get rid of the
mess. Diandra ran Lizbeth a bath so she could get out of those disgusting
bag-lady layers and into something of her own. Lizbeth didn't protest as
Diandra carried her upstairs, carefully helped remove each layer, and lifted
her into the tub. She was as limp and silent as a rag doll, and Diandra
reluctantly left her to tend herself in the tub.

When Lizbeth was alone in the bathroom she put her head back
and closed her eyes, soaking in the steaming water. A small sob escaped her,
and then she was silent once more as the tears rolled unchecked down her pale
face and into the tub of sweetly scented water.

Lizbeth came downstairs a short while later in her favorite
sky blue robe. She'd studied herself in the mirror for some time before joining
everyone else, startled by how different she looked now that her eyes had
changed. Diandra, Eamon, and Adrian were talking quietly amongst themselves in
the parlor, and she was disquieted by the fact that all conversation ceased
when she walked in. "What's going on?" she asked softly.

Diandra rose and gave her a gentle hug. Lizbeth stood stiff
and unmoving under her attentions for a moment before wrapping her arms around
her in return and hugging her tightly. "We're worried about you,"
Diandra said matter-of-factly.

"You don't need to be. I'll be fine. I'm just angry
with myself for falling for his tricks. I smelled fresh blood and headed to see
if there was someone I could save." Lizzie raised one arm as though to
gesture, then dropped it in a show of futility. "There was no one- no
body, no blood."

"Apparently Carson can do sensory illusions- this is
good information to have," Eamon said as he studied her face as though
searching for something. Shrugging, he turned his back and grabbed a familiar
looking basket from the floor. "Blood delivery," he said lightly as
he tossed a baggie to Lizbeth. With a quickness that surprised her, she
snatched it up, pierced it with her fangs- fangs she wasn't even aware she had
yet- and drank it down.

Eamon came to her then as he watched her face fall.
"It'll be okay- I'll help you get through this, kiddo," he said as he
wrapped her in his strong, muscular arms.

"I know," Lizbeth whispered as she clung to him
like he was a lifeline she desperately needed. Apparently he was, she thought
wildly. He was her lifeline- he'd help her find herself again. She didn't know
who the Hell she was anymore, but Eamon would help her.

Diandra stood silent, watching the various emotions light
across Lizbeth's face- fear, anger, horror, agony… it was an unending parade of
feelings and she was helpless to do anything but support her in any way she may
need it.

Eamon changed into his sleek ivory cat form and padded out
to his usual haunt- the large bush in the front yard- where he'd guard the
house while they slept. He'd explained that even though Adrian could produce
more blood as needed, right now Lizbeth might not be able to prevent draining
him so she had to stick to the baggies until she'd matured some as a vampire. Advising
them to get some rest, he told them he'd come talk more in the morning, after
they were awake and Lizbeth called out of work. She needed some time to process
her life now, and she needed to shop for colored contacts. They'd return her
eyes to a shade of blue similar to their usual color, and help hide the
cat-like pupils while she worked.

Diandra tucked Lizbeth into bed, and began to pray silently.
She thanked God for His help and for providing her with strength when she
needed it most as the sound of Lizbeth's light snores filled the room. She
stretched out beside the woman she loved, wrapped her in an embrace, and
prepared to drift off to sleep. Life would be so very different now, but their
love- that was constant. The rest they'd worry about later, but as long as they
had love, they had everything.

I hope you enjoyed Taste of Grief. I had a blast writing
this one, and I'm delighted to share it with you all. I love to hear from my
readers, so please feel free to contact me at any time. I'd greatly appreciate
reviews posted so I know how you all enjoyed the storyline so far.

Take care, and happy reading!

Kay

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