The Vampire's Release, A Paranormal Romance (Undead in Brown County #4) by S.J. Wright

that element with the supernatural powers inherent in the undead might have given rise to a creature far different than what I knew myself to be.
    My jaw began to ache with the urge to release my canines when I thought about Sarah’s blood.   The rich, thick powerful flavor of it remained vivid in my memory.  I had to fight the desire rising through me once again.  It gripped me like the vision of a rising red tide in some demonic landscape , guaranteed to overwhelm and drown me if I didn’t succumb. 
    “Fuck,” I swore.  “Alex, stop the vehicle .”
    Sarah leaned forward over the back of my seat and touched my shoulder.  “What’s wrong?”
    The dreaded blood lust surged through me relentlessly.  There was no stopping it when she was that close.  The growl of hunger ripped through me and came out as a low snarl.  I felt the shock of sudden fear go through her fingers.  Sarah’ s hand fe ll away.
    “I’m pulli ng over.  Just keep it together,” Alex muttered.
    But there was no earthly way he could stop in time.  I had to get out of there.
    When I glanced desperately over at him, he looked shell shocked.  I can imagine he was probably remembering his own moments of weakness with Sarah and how impossible it seemed to push the urges back. He was probably remembering how guilty he felt afterwards.  But all I could think about was getting the hell out of that car.   If my mind would have strayed towards anything other than warm blood or the exquisite softness of Sarah’s inner thighs , I may have been able to prevent the violent accident that happened next.
    Sarah was not wearing he r seatbelt.  She should have been.  I should have insisted on fastening it for her myself.  My mind had been so entrenched in the memory of her skin against mine that I had neg lected to consider her safety.  So when the collision occurred, I wasn’t prepared at all.
    I had never been in an automobile crash.  There’s really no way to describe the shock of that amount of force being expended in the span of a half second of time.  The sound itself was wretched—a clashing of metallic surfaces that echoed through me like a wave of electrical power.  For the first time since I was a child, I wanted to cover my ears with my hands.
    As immortals, Alex and I had not bothered with the safety devices either.  We are not impervious to the laws of physics, however.  So he and I were catapulted into the glass in front of us.  The steering wheel stopped his forward motion , while I was thrown completely through the glass and into the air above the truck that had hit us.
    I landed painfully on my left side on the pavement of the interstate about thirty yards from the two vehicles.   Somewhere in the mass of twisted, smoking wreckage lay Sarah.  I rose awkwardly from the surface of the road and briefly assessed my injuries.  I was bleeding from a deep gash in my left bicep and numerous small cuts over my arms which had already begun the intricate process of cellular regener ation bestowed on the undead.
    Alex, if he had been injured at all, was already pulling Sarah from the b ackseat of the crushed sedan.  He appeared to be fine , although it was more likely that his self-healing process was even faster than my own given his unique physical powers .  It was Sarah that concerned me.  Her head was bleeding profusely and she appeared to be unconscious. 
    After delivering her to me, Alex made a point of checking the occupant of the truck that had swerved across the grassy median and slammed into us.  The driver, a white male human of middle age, was dead.   Already there were other vehicles slowing down on both sides of the highway, which didn’t worry me nearly as much as Sarah’s condition, but Alex urged me to get her hidden.
    “The cops will be here, Michael.  We have to leave.”   His clothes were smeared with Sarah’s blood and probably some of his own.  Some of it was also matted in his hair right above