Page 4 of Halfblood Deceived

Aella frowned. “No, I don’t think so. I don’t feel ill.”

For now, she mentally corrected herself. It had been mere days since her last transfusion, so her chronic anemia would be under control for the next three months or so. Claudia didn’t know about Aella’s illness. Only Father Israel and Micah did. And Aella didn’t want to see even more pity in Claudia’s eyes, so she hadn’t told her friend about it.

Claudia hummed, picking up a strand of Aella’s hair. “I think it’s time we dye it again.”

Aella grimaced, resigned. “Yeah.”

“It would last longer if you bleached it and used a stronger dye,” Claudia commented.

“I hate the smell,” Aella protested. Which was only half of the truth. Being forced to hide her natural hair color made her chest ache. She hated the idea of purposely destroying a part of herself. Maybe it was a bit ridiculous, it was just hair, but Aella couldn’t change how she felt.

Besides, it would barely work.

Aella’s hair was… different. Well, she considered it different. The nuns and priests at the convent where she grew up called it an abomination. It looked normal to the naked eye, but the strands were so thick that scissors turned blunt halfway through a haircut. And dye would not permeate it as it was supposed to. Aella had tried a few brands, and the result was always the same—the color fell from root to tip with every wash. She dyed it brown every two weeks to keep the bright red, heathen color subdued. But the result wasn’t perfect. Her hair looked mahogany instead of brown. But black dye made it look dark red for some weird reason, which was worse.

Micah often threatened to cut it all off, but having short hair was sinful, according to the church.

That hadn’t stopped the nuns from chopping Aella’s hair off several times during her childhood.

Lalalala. It was best not to think about it.

Claudia shrugged. “It’s best not to provoke Eli.”

Aella huffed. “It’s not his business. And it’s not like he needs provocation.”

Eli, Bethany’s husband, had the habit of reminding Aella she would have burned at the stake a few centuries before for her ‘witch hair.’

“Eli doesn’t mean it, you know that,” Claudia said in her ‘you are exaggerating’ tone.

“I’m not so sure about that,” Aella muttered.

“Gossip is a sin, Aella,” came a male voice right behind them. Aella stiffened and Claudia bit her lip. “And a graver one if you are speaking ill of our sacred protectors.”

Yes, Father Israel was the usual response Aella gave, what she intended to say. But what came out of her mouth instead was: “Too bad there isn’t a commandment against bullying.”

Claudia straightened and shot a surprised look at Aella.

“Leave us, Claudia,” Father Israel ordered.

Claudia obeyed at once.

Aella kept her eyes stubbornly on the fountain as the middle-aged man sat beside her. She needn’t look directly at him to see his sharp look of disapproval. Despite being in his mid-fifties and having a limp, Father Israel looked strong. His head was full of short white hair that made his features look sharp as a blade and brought out the too-intense dark blue of his eyes. He had been a warrior many years ago. A vicious vampire had destroyed his right leg and his ability to be on the field. But he had continued serving the Order of the Light as a priest.

“Why are you so conflicted, my child?” Father Israel asked.

Where to start? Aella wondered. There were too many reasons for her conflict, as he’d called it. The weight of everyone’s disapproval on her shoulders suffocated her. The relief she felt every time the tests came back negative and the crushing guilt for that relief suffocated her even more. How Micah didn’t seem to love her but wanted to own her made her want to scream. And while Aella knew that she belonged to him in the eyes of God when she had said ‘I do,’ it didn’t feel right. She was supposed to be happy, wasn’t she? She had everything any female of her species could want. And yet she felt so… empty.

“I’m just worried about Micah,” Aella lied easily.

Father Israel placed his hand on her knee, thumb rubbing circles that were surely meant to be soothing, but made Aella squirm inwardly. “I understand that, my child,” the priest said. “But you can’t be unkind just because you are worried. Kindness is your duty, just as your husband’s is to protect us from the demons.”

“I know,” Aella said, hanging her head with practiced ease. Arguing with a priest or a nun led nowhere good. She had learned that the hard way when she was little. And while Aella was certain that Father Israel wouldn’t hit her with his cane or deny her food for three days like the nuns used to, she wasn’t willing to risk his wrath, either.

The priest took her hand. “Let us pray.”

Aella followed along on autopilot, hating that her spark of bravery had died so soon. And hating even more that she was relieved it had done so.

CHAPTER 2

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