Page 35 of Halfblood Deceived

And now that she had seen the truth with her own eyes, now that she was no longer afraid of her so-called sinful thoughts about vampires, Aella could admit to herself that she didn’t think Zeydan was a monster. He could have hurt her in a thousand different ways and hadn’t. Aella had hurt him, not the other way around. And now she needed to save him.

She peered at the unknown street, watching a few cars pass by. A taxi approached from the right side.

Aella hurried to stop it.

The driver had to hit the brakes not to run her over.

Aella limped to the back door and climbed inside. The human’s dark eyes met hers through the rearview mirror, wide with surprise and concern.

“Miss, are you alright? Do you need me to take you to a hospital?” he asked. His voice carried a Hispanic accent.

Aella swallowed, tasting her blood. “No. I need you to take me to this address.” She recited the address to the driver, wincing at how strange her voice sounded. The swelling on her face must have been worse than she thought.

The man shook his head, turning to see her, his light brown face paled with horror. Aella didn’t even want to know what she looked like. “That’s an hour away, Miss, and you look half dead. I’ll take you to a hospital.”

“No!” Aella all but screamed, locking her eyes with his. “He’ll find me in the hospital, and I’ll be as good as dead.”

Comprehension dawned on the man’s face. “Then we should go to the police—”

“He has friends in the police,” Aella interrupted him. It was true, the gargoyles had allies within the police force. “If you want to help me, take me to that address,” she insisted to the driver. “It’s the only place I can go now. Please. Please.”

“Dios mío santo,” the man exclaimed, raking a hand through his short, black hair. His desperate eyes met Aella’s. “Alright, Miss. Please don’t die.” He started the car.

“I won’t,” Aella promised, hoping she could fulfill that vow.

Gargoyles healed much faster than humans, but she was a halfblood, and the wound was bad. Her bleeding hadn’t stopped.

She thought about praying, but her prayers had gone unheard for over twenty-four years. Why would they work now?

The cab driver sent her a look through the mirror, going fast, maybe too fast, but Aella wasn’t going to discourage him.

* * *

The driver spoke to Aella all the way. His name was Gustavo, and he was only a few years older than her. He told her about how difficult it had been to leave his home and country, but he, his wife, and two girls had no other choice if they wanted to stay alive. Keeping an eye on her through the rearview mirror, he spoke about how hard it was to be an outsider. Things Aella had at her disposal most of her life—a roof over her head, a bed to sleep in, and food—had been a struggle for them to procure at first. Gustavo was studying to become a nurse. His wife wanted to be a teacher. Aella offered little commentary—she needed to preserve her fading energy—but met his gaze in the mirror often so he could see that she was still alive.

Just a bit more. Hold on just a bit more; Aella urged herself.

A violent shiver shook her. She wrapped her arm tighter around her middle, her palm flat against the bleeding wound. The driver gave her a horrified look through the rearview mirror. She couldn’t blame him. She’d caught glimpses of her face, half-disfigured with swelling, and it was a scary sight. A couple of stubborn tears rolled down her cheeks, and she hated it.

You don’t have the right to cry; she scolded herself. You are a monster, just like them.

She was supposed to be a proud member of the Order of the Light, anointed by God himself, as all gargoyles were.

But now, after what she’d witnessed—after having her world torn to pieces in front of her eyes, Aella didn’t know who she was anymore.

The terrified gaze of the vampire child would forever be burned in her mind. She could still hear the child’s screams in her head. The small girl with long black hair and azure eyes had needed Aella’s help, and she’d failed her.

Her pain was nothing compared to that. The bleeding wound in her stomach and the ache of her electrocuted limbs could not match the gaping hole inside her chest. It burned like acid with betrayal and guilt.

“We’re here,” the driver announced, giving her a panicked look. “But there’s nothing here.”

There has to be, Aella thought desperately.

She forced herself to focus on moving her heavy, sore body. Her fingers trembled as she reached into her back pocket and took out all the money she’d managed to stash away over the last two years—a bit over three hundred dollars. “Thank you for helping me. Keep the change.”

Right hand firmly pressed against her poisoned wound, Aella mustered all her strength to open the taxi’s door, stand and close it behind her. She hoped the black coat covered the blood well enough not to scare the poor man.

“Wait, miss, there’s blood in these bills!” Gustavo exclaimed. “I can’t just leave you here.”

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