He’d also died there, temporarily, anyway.
His gaze focused on the entrance to Central Park. He’d been in there when his “death” happened. It had been so stupid to walk in the park that night. But he’d had plans. Such grand, hopeful plans.
His parents had loved that park. Before they’d died, he’d gone there with them so many times. The park had seemed to be the perfect place to start the future he craved.
But there’d been no future for him in that park. Only death.
“Let’s just take a closer look,” William murmured. He grabbed Ben again with his white-hot, burning hold, and in the next instant, they were inside Central Park. The snow was thick on the ground, and, in the distance, Ben could hear the sound of singing.
Christmas carols.
He’d heard those same songs ten years ago. Ten long years…
“Ah…let’s see…” William’s head turned to the right. “I figure you’ll be here in five, four, three, two…”
A man walked out of the darkness. A man who wore a long, flowing coat. The fool didn’t even have a cap on, and the snow left flecks of white in the fellow’s black hair. The guy’s shoulders were hunched against the cold and—
The man looked up. His green eyes darted around the park. Ben’s breath caught as he stared at the guy.
That’s me.
And just how was he staring at himself? What was William doing? How as this even possible? Ben grabbed William’s shirt-front. “What is happening?”
William frowned down at Ben’s grabbing hands. “Have a care. That’s an expensive shirt.”
What? The shirt had survived fire. Ben was pretty sure it would survive his grip. A growl broke from Ben’s lips.
William sighed. “Magic makes it possible, okay? Some very powerful magic.”
Ben’s hands fell to his side.
“You’re seeing a memory, my friend,” William told him flatly. “So don’t bother trying to call out to anyone. They can’t see you. They can’t hear you.”
Seeing a memory…
“And, unfortunately—”
“We’re not friends,” Ben said, but the words held no heat. He was pretty much too stunned for heat then.
“Unfortunately,” William pressed on, “this isn’t one of your better nights. This memory is gonna suck for you.”
No, no, it wasn’t a good night. Because even as Ben stared in shock, he saw a shadowy figure leap out from the trees. That figure hit his old self. How f**king crazy is this? I’m watching the attack that ended my human life.
Watching it and hating it.
The attack was fast and vicious, and blood sprayed on the white snow as the vampire sank his teeth into his prey’s neck.
Ben lifted a hand to his throat. He remembered the feel of that bite. As if a thousand razor blades had just sliced into him.
As he kept watching, too stunned to speak, Ben realized that his old self was still trying to fight. Swinging out, punching. But a human was no match for a vampire.
And the guy that had attacked him this long ago night had been a very, very strong vampire. He looked at the vampire, noting the man’s blond hair, so blond it was almost white, and the guy’s ashen complexion. The vampire fed on him for so long and then…
The vampire tore his mouth from Ben’s throat. “Welcome to the darkness,” the vampire hissed, and he cut open his own wrist with a quick swipe of his fangs.
“This is it,” William said, his voice almost sad. “This is the moment it all changed for you.”
The blond vampire shoved his wrist over Ben’s mouth.
He’d only tasted a few drops of that blood, Ben remembered. Just a few—
The vampire laughed. Laughed and leapt away. The blond vamp raced back into the darkness, leaving a trail of blood drops in the snow behind him.
“He can’t see you.” William was studying the prone figure on the ground. “We’re watching a memory, and the memory doesn’t watch back. So go on…” His hand slammed into Ben’s back. “Get a close-up look at what you were.”
He didn’t want a close-up look.
Ben could hear a faint, desperate, gasping cry. That had been his cry. He’d been choking to death on his own blood as he lay in the snow.
William shoved him again. “Don’t be scared, vamp, it’s not like you don’t know what will happen next.” His touch scorched Ben’s flesh.
Dammit, Ben was tired of the demon’s burning shoves! He turned around and drove his fist into the demon’s face. Take that, bastard. William fell into the snow and Ben…he whirled back around and watched himself die.
The blond vampire had used his fangs to rip into and across Ben’s neck. The wound was deep. Savage. Blood was all around his body. His eyes were open, desperate.
So this is what I looked like when I died.
Chalk-white face, helpless stare. A mouth that struggled to speak, but with his throat ripped open, no words would be coming from him.
There was only…death.
And death did come. The gasping, choking sound ended with a wheeze. His eyes were still open, but staring sightlessly ahead. His chest didn’t rise. The blood…it was a blanket around him. His final shroud.
Snow crunched beneath William’s feet as the demon moved closer. “Now this only lasts a few minutes. The faster the rising, the more powerful the vampire.”
Ben glanced over at William. The demon was swiping snow off his body.
“You came back damn fast, so that meant you’d be a powerhouse.”
A powerhouse who’d never had the chance to cry out for help before his change.
But, sure enough, Ben saw the body in the snow stiffen. The green eyes changed, becoming golden in color, and the gaping wound in his neck…it closed.
The seconds ticked past in silence.
“You were lucky,” William added, his voice low. “I knew some poor bastards who didn’t rise until they’d already been buried. At least you didn’t have to dig your way out of a grave.”
Yes, he’d been…lucky.
Then the man on the ground—me—started to suck in deep, heaving gulps of air.
“You’re back,” William’s wry voice told him.
Ben watched as his old self jumped to his feet. He ran shaking hands over his neck. Over his blood-soaked clothes.
“Back, but so different…”
Because the man standing there, with terror on his face…that guy had glowing, golden eyes…and two inch long fangs.