Page 22 of Halfblood Deceived

Micah gave Aella a surprised, disgusted look that promised retaliation.

Isaiah noticed. His lip curled with rage.

The blow hadn’t even made Eli flinch, but his eyes turned red with wrath, his skin graying. He took a step forward.

“I’ll break your bones if you touch her,” Isaiah warned, voice lethally calm.

“Where was the vampire taking you?” Father Israel asked.

Aella bit her cheek. “He said he’d lock me up somewhere and kill anyone who tried to rescue me.”

“Did he say anything to you?” the priest asked. “Or show you something?” His dark blue eyes zeroed in on Aella’s face with hawk-like intensity.

“No,” Aella lied with full confidence. She had learned to lie convincingly by the time she’d turned ten to avoid getting whipped by the nuns when she stole food from the pantry.

She wasn’t sure why she lied.

But something… instinctive and unknown, told her she should keep her mouth shut about her discovery. About how vampires, or at least Zeydan, weren’t dead, but alive.

“Did he touch you?” Micah demanded.

Aella blinked, reeling at the unnerving possessiveness in his tone. “No.”

“Don’t lie to me,” Micah warned.

“I am not lying,” Aella answered, stomach churning. “Aside from the fight, Zeydan barely touched my elbow once.”

“Zeydan?” Micah spat as if it were a dirty word, eyes flashing red and hands curling into fists.

“T-that’s his name,” Aella stammered, confused, her hands shaking.

“On a first-name basis with a vampire, eh?” Eli inquired, clicking his tongue. “I wonder how acquainted they truly are.”

Micah’s nostrils flared, and his skin started to turn gray.

Aella’s heart kicked into a mad race. Eli loved to needle Micah and make him get mad at Aella. She was certain that since Eli couldn’t hurt her himself, he felt vicarious pleasure in knowing Micah could.

“If you had done your job, that leech would be dead,” Micah accused.

Indignant fire burned in Aella’s chest, half-melting her icy fear. “I won’t take the blame no matter what you say,” she said, tears falling down her face. “I refuse to feel guilty after you almost killed me.”

Micah scoffed. “Don’t be so dramatic. You are still in one piece.”

“For now,” Eli threatened.

Aella clenched her teeth, throat aching both with the sting of betrayal and the effort to hold back another growl.

“The bomb should not affect you,” Father Israel said to Aella, sharp eyes examining her with disturbing intensity. “It is made to burn vampires’ skin and lungs. Gargoyles only feel mild discomfort.”

Aella’s mind’s eye supplied her with incongruous images of Zeydan’s beautiful face burned. She suppressed a shiver, not for the first time wondering where such disturbing thoughts were coming from.

“Being a half-breed has its disadvantages,” Eli mused, a perverse gleam in his blue eyes as he turned to address Micah. “Whatever children you manage to spawn with that pathetic little whore will be weak.”

A metallic dish full of bloody bandages flew toward Eli’s head, coming from Isaiah’s direction. It crashed against Eli’s thick forehead, leaving a small cut, and then fell with a loud clunk to the floor.

“Someone ought to wash your filthy mouth with bleach,” Isaiah growled. “And it seems like it’ll have to be me.”

“Enough,” Father Israel commanded, but neither gargoyle listened.

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