Page 9 of Blood Witch

The only thing I had in my life that came close to having an actual relationship were the several fictional hotties I was currently in lust with. Reading was my favorite thing to do, and I missed the fact I rarely made time for it.

When you grew up in an orphanage, the idea of personal belongings didn’t really exist. But one of the sisters who ran the place took pity on me when I was about twelve and got me a second hand eReader that had been filled with fantasy and paranormal romance books. After that, I soon became addicted to them.

Reading was my escape. It helped me get through the bad times. Gave me something to do to waste away the hours between chores and school. Whenever I lost myself in a story, it was like I lived the heroine’s life. I wasn’t so lonely when I read books. I was just about to indulge in one I’d stopped a few days ago, when I heard footsteps and breathless giggles.

“Mabe! Where are you?”

Jade busted through the door, uninvited as usual, and looking like she’d just been making out with her man. She probably had been, and another pang of jealousy whipped out to strike me.

Shit.

I hated feeling that way. Especially about Jade and Arlo. He was the first to help me control my condition. And she’d been the first to offer me the one thing that eluded me my entire life—friendship.

“Mabe? Are you listening to me?”

“What? Sorry.” I jumped, having not heard a single word she said.

“Come inside with us. Magnus hunted up some info about Mr. Tall and Mysterious,” she said, waggling her eyebrows and looking like the dork I knew she was.

“Oh my Goddess, Jade! His name is Fin. He told us that,” I mumbled, feeling my cheeks heat with embarrassment.

She grasped my hand and pulled me into the living room, but not before I snagged a clean hoodie from the closet. I pulled it on over my tank top before I made it to the living room.

“Why are you putting on a sweatshirt? They already started with the heat, and I am like dying already,” Jade asked conversationally.

I shrugged my reply, knowing damn well I didn’t want anyone remarking on the runes that sometimes showed up on my skin depending on my emotions and my hunger.

Always the hunger.

The first thing that hit me when I entered the room where everyone was hanging out were the heartbeats.

Bum-bum bum-bum bum-bum.

Saliva rushed to my mouth. I swallowed it down quickly, even though I was repulsed by my own biological reactions. Not like I could help it, but still. The shifters in the room, Magnus and Brandon, followed my movements, observing me as I joined them.

They never made me feel threatened or made a move. Like recognized like. Predators. All of us. Their inner beasts knew something was different about me. Like they could feel my hunger, and it put them on guard. But I could not blame them. I was what I was.

Monster.

My auditory senses were perhaps even more acute than theirs. I wasn’t up on shifter studies, not taking any classes where their ilk was discussed. I knew they were secretive about a lot of their culture, just as I knew witches and wizards were mostly snobby fuckers who looked down their long noses at supes who were not like them. They’d been doing it to me my whole life.

Maybe I should start asking Magnus and Brandon questions.

Like, how good was their hearing?

I could have identified everyone in the room by their heart beats alone, even if I was blindfolded.

If I focused, I could hear more than that. Not just the pumping of that muscle. I could hear the rushing of blood through their veins. It filled me, deafening me to the voices I knew were speaking.

Really, I got caught up in that sound. Eyes closed, I recognized a sort of melody. The blood song. That was what I sometimes called it. The sound was symphonic.

Theswooshandhushandbum-bumall worked together, interweaving to create something incredible, always moving, always rising till it hit a crescendo, rendering me speechless and panting, lusting for more.

Hungry for blood.

“Mabe! Are you with us? I said I’d find out his last name,” Magnus grumbled, his deep voice shaking me from my reverie.

The kraken shifter cocked his head to the side as he spoke, like he was uncomfortable in crowds. Just like me, I mused, tucking my short, dark bob behind my ears.

---