Page 3 of Blood Witch

We had to be careful with that phrase. It was worse than a dirty word in the supernatural world. Blood magic was the worst kind of magic. The kind everyone was afraid of. It was also the magic my own powers seemed acclimated to. Hence the whole secret life thing.

I roamed the halls of Westwood on my way to my job in the infirmary. I’d been invited to the work-study program by Headmistress Armstrong. The old witch creeped me out with her intense stares, but whatever.

I suppose I played the part of emo goth girl witch well with my too thin frame and my preference for black clothing. So far, I’d managed to convince most of the student body my red-rimmed eyes were the product of a glamour, a kind of spell used to alter one’s appearance.

Like I was that shallow.

Whatever.

My teeth chattered as I worked, cleaning patients’ rooms in the infirmary. Westwood Academy was so very generous, giving outcasts like me a chance to learn in its esteemed halls. I just had to play the servant.

I sneered as one of the nurses passed me by. Most of the staff loathed me, and that was fine. I didn’t give off the same peppy‘look at me, I’m so special, I just wanna help everyone’vibe the students who were studying to be healers gave.

Nope.

Not a chance.

I only worked there for practicality’s sake. Well, to pay for my tuition, and for other, more personal reasons.

I scratched the skin over my wrist, frowning when I noticed my runes beginning to glow.

Fuck.

Not now.

“Hello, Mabe,” a familiar voice said, and I turned around to see Arlo Glenn enter the otherwise empty room.

Jade’s mate was friendly, as always. The big, blond witch had been helping me ever since he caught me stealing from the infirmary’s supplies.

He raised his eyebrows slightly, indicating the door, and I went to close it with a pronounced huff.

What could I say?

I just could not accept help without being an ass.

Arms crossed over my slight chest, I waited as he said a quick spell to soundproof the room. My entire body was vibrating with hunger, and I was barely hanging on.

“Jade said you looked peaked this morning,” he murmured, reaching into his pocket. “This was all I could get for now, Mabe. Will it do?”

“Yeah, yeah, give it here,” I said, sounding like some junky in need of a fix instead of my normal snarky self.

I grabbed the polyvinyl chloride bag loaded with one pint of cleaned, whole witch blood and pierced it with my already descended fangs. Without bothering to look at Arlo’s reaction to my bloodlust, I took a long pull, waiting like the fiend I was for the first effects to take hold.

Finally, something inside of me, my magic maybe, growled. The sound reverberated through to my chest, but I did my best to ignore it. I sucked and swallowed the warm, copper-tasting fluid until the bag was dry.

“Here, let me take that,” Arlo murmured, a frown on his face as he took the bag from where I dropped it on my lap.

It took a moment for me to get my strength back after feeding. It was like I fell into the ultimate food coma. But only if I’d gone too long between feedings, and I knew I had.

Damn, but I felt good. My heart thudded in my chest. My pulse picked up its pace, and my breathing increased. Nevertheless, I sat on the floor and smiled lazily.

This was what I imagined it felt like to be high or drunk, neither of which I had ever experienced. Supernaturals had varying metabolic speeds for things like food and drugs. Witches were among the slowest, but for some reason I burned through regular food like mad.

The only other creatures I knew of that had that kind of metabolism were shifters, but I sure as fuck was not one of them. I knew what I was, and it was much worse than some poor sod who turned into an animal.

I was a monster. And the moment they found out. They were going to hunt me.

CHAPTER2

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