Read The Vampire Diaries: Stefan’s Diaries #3: The Craving for Free Online

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    “You mean, stay in and receive visitors all day so you can tell them about your adventures,” Margaret said, shaking her head. “I’m afraid I shall have to beg off, too, Mother. I’ve things to attend to at home, now that it appears my sister is fine—and my husband misses me.”
    “I can’t imagine why,” Bridget muttered uncharitably.
    Lydia shot her youngest sister a look and lightly slapped her arm. Mrs. Sutherland ignored the sisterly sniping, shaking out a light cloak and wrapping it around her shoulders. “Come with us, Mr. Salvatore. We shall make a fine party of three.”
    Resisting the urge to shout in frustration—what would it take to leave this family’s clutches?—I forced a smile on my face and held out my arm to Mrs. Sutherland.
    The second we stepped outside the massive front door, the sun assaulted my eyes. It was a bright, lemony yellow and the sky a perfect blue. For early November up north, it was a remarkably mild day. If not for the sun’s low angle in relation to the earth, it would have been easy to mistake it for a brisk spring morning.
    We headed south, then crossed at Sixty-sixth Street and walked through the wrought iron gates of the park. Despite the events of the night before, neither Lydia nor Mrs. Sutherland showed any hesitation or fear. I suppose they felt safe enough in my presence. I took a deep breath of the morning air, which seemed so clear and pure after the events of the previous night. It was as though, with the rising sun, the entire world had been washed clean. Seed heads bobbed at the ends of long grasses and flowers opened toward the sky, taking in the last bright sun of the year. The droplets of dew had already dispersed from the previous night.
    We were not the only ones out to enjoy the day. The park was packed with families and strolling couples. I was struck once again with how different the North was. Yankee women wore bright colors, such as we hadn’t seen in the South for years—scarlets, brilliant yellows, bold, sky blues in silk and velvet and expensive cloths like European lace, delicate stockings, tiny leather boots.
    Even nature here was different. Northern trees were round, quaint, elliptical maples where our lush oaks spread out, soaking up the sun to the farthest tips of their branches. The pines were spiky and blue, not the tall, soft, grand ones the soft Southern breeze whispers around.
    Mrs. Sutherland and Lydia prattled on about the weather, but they had lost my attention, for at that moment a squirrel crossed our path. A sudden darkness overcame me, as if one of the few clouds in the sky had momentarily passed in front of the sun. My predator instincts awoke. There was nothing delectable about its beady eyes or bushy tail, but in a flash I could taste it—the blood of yesterday. It invaded my nostrils and tickled my throat with desire.
    “Please excuse me—I—I believe I see someone I know.” I made my trivial excuse as I dashed off, promising to return in a moment, though I had no intention of doing so. I could feel Lydia and Mrs. Sutherland’s eyes follow me curiously as I disappeared behind a thicket of bushes.
    There sat my prey, as innocent as Bridget had likely looked to her attacker last night. It eyed me as I approached, but did not make a move. In a flash I was upon it, and it was over even more quickly. As I felt the blood seep into me—a paltry feeding, but a feeding nonetheless—I leaned against the tree trunk, awash in exhausted relief. It had not been apparent until just now how edgy I had been, every moment afraid of my own hunger. Afraid of the stirrings inside of me, and how they might control me at any instant.
    My relief was so great that I didn’t even hear Lydia approach, ruining my chance of escape.
    “Stefan?” she said, looking around, no doubt curious to meet the person I had run off to greet.
    “It turns out that I was mistaken after all,” I mumbled, reluctantly rejoining Lydia and her mother on