Samson scented the blood as soon as he stepped out of his bedroom, freshly showered and dressed. There was no doubt whose blood it was and where it came from. His nostrils flared, and his body tensed.
He knew Amaury's love for warm blood better than anybody and cursed himself for having let him stay while Delilah was with him.
As he flew down the stairs and burst into the kitchen, he was battle ready - to save his woman from his best friend. If Amaury had bitten her, he'd kill him. Fury shot through him as his eyes focused on the scene in the kitchen: Amaury bent over Delilah's bleeding hand.
Without thinking Samson lunged at his best friend, and with a loud thud they both crashed onto the hard kitchen floor.
"Noooooooo!" Samson's scream echoed in the kitchen. He flashed his fangs and snarled, pinning Amaury underneath him as he pummeled him with his fists. His friend's arms came up in defense, trying to shield his face.
"Stop!" But Amaury's voice was drowned out by Samson's fierce roar. Samson's fist connected with his friend's jaw once more. Deflecting his next hit, Amaury held him at bay.
"Samson!" Delilah's voice finally penetrated his head.
"I didn't do anything," Amaury hissed.
"Samson! What's going on?"
He jerked his head and instantly knew he shouldn't have turned toward her when he saw her face react to him. In his daze he'd forgotten about everything. He hadn't realized what she'd see: his vampire side.
Delilah shrieked, eyes wide, mouth open, her hand holding onto the counter as she backed away from them.
"Oh my God!" Her chest heaved as if she couldn't get enough air. "Oh my God, what are you?" It wasn't really a question. It was more of a statement.
Damn, he was so screwed.
Samson's eyes were red. Blinking freaking red!
They looked the same way as that time in the shower, when Ricky had interrupted them. She hadn't seen wrong, as much as she'd wanted to explain it away. But she couldn't explain it away, not anymore, not when she looked at his mouth from which two teeth were protruding now.
No, not teeth.
Pointy, sharp teeth like those of an animal. Like a Sabertooth cat.
She couldn't think it, no, because to think it made it real. It couldn't be real. It didn't exist. He didn't exist, not like that.
Was this one of her strange dreams again? When would she wake up from this nightmare? When? Delilah gripped the counter behind her harder to counterbalance her buckling knees and felt the pain in her fingers where she'd cut herself. No, this wasn't a nightmare, this was reality. Bizarre reality.
She watched Samson get up, releasing Amaury from his grip, slowly moving toward her.
"No!" Her breath caught in her chest.
Need air. Need air now.
"Delilah, everything's ok." His voice was as soothing as it had been the night before.
"Get away from me." She backed away further until she hit the wall behind her. There was nowhere else to go. She'd managed to back herself into a corner. And he was coming toward her, slowly, but steadily. Her throat dried up. Her vocal cords froze. She had to face facts now. She couldn't deny it any longer.
She'd made love to a vampire, over and over again.
Dracula. A vampire.
Samson was a vampire, a vampire whose mouth had devoured her, whose fangs had been so close to her jugular, he could have killed her with one bite.
"I'm not going to hurt you."
She let out a hysteric laugh. "No, you're just going to bite me. That's what you want, isn't it? Oh God, how could I have been so stupid?"