With a sudden flash of anger, she blurted, "Lash wasn't impotent, all right? He wasn't ... impotent-"
The temperature in the room plummeted so fast and so far, her breath came out in clouds.
And what she saw in the mirror made her swing around and take a step back from John: His blue eyes glowed with an unholy light and his upper lip curled up to reveal fangs that were sharp and so long they looked like daggers.
Objects all around the room began to vibrate: the lamps on the bed stands, the clothes on their hangers, the mirror on the wall. The collective rattling crescendoed to a dull roar and she had to steady herself on the bureau or run the risk of being knocked on her ass.
The air was alive. Supercharged. Electric.
Dangerous.
And John was the center of the raging energy, his hands cranking into fists so tight his forearms trembled, his thighs grabbing onto his bones as he sank down into fighting stance.
John's mouth stretched wide as his head shot forward on his spine... and he let out a war cry-
Sound exploded all around her, so loud she had to cover her ears, so powerful she felt the blast against her face.
For a moment, she thought he'd found his voice- except it wasn't vocal cords making that bellowing noise.
The glass in the sliders blew out behind him, the sheets shattering into thousands of shards that blasted free of the house, the fragments bouncing on the slate and catching the light like raindrops...
Or like tears.
