Blood Spell by Rachel Higginson EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Rachel Higginson
- Language: English
- Genre: Paranormal Vampire Romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
MONSTERS AND MADNESS
I felt grief before I even opened my eyes. It had settled in my heart like
stones, like human-size boulders, weighing it and me and everything
down so I knew I shouldn’t open my eyes. I should never open my eyes
again.
But I had to. I had to see.
I had to confirm the awful thing my bones and blood and soul seemed to
know before my mind could catch up.
Because all I could smell was blood. Could sense that it was everywhere.
My skin was sticky with it. It was cold now, but the coppery smell lingered
like a wet blanket in the air. The sheer intensity of it forced me to open my
eyes because there was so, so much.
Only that wasn’t what worried me. That wasn’t what dragged my heart
into my stomach and bubbled up in my throat like acid.
What worried me was that blood was everywhere, and I wasn’t hungry
for it.
With this amount of blood, I should be insatiable. Instead, my already
bloated stomach wretched at the idea of drinking more. Even while my
incisors refused to shrink back. They stayed engorged, pushing awkwardly
into my bottom lip and crowding out my raw tongue. This wasn’t how it
worked. This wasn’t how any of it worked.
Why were they stuck like this? Why did the blood in the air sing to my
spirit at the same time dread curdled like rotten milk in my gut?
When I finally peeled back my eyelids to behold the destruction, I had the
answers to all my awful questions.
This wasn’t blood I was ever supposed to drink. This wasn’t blood I’d
ever wanted to drink. What had I done?
Oh my God, what had I done?
His head lolled in my lap, eyes unseeing, mouth frozen in a silent scream
of agony. A vicious gash in his neck gaped open and was too grotesque to
look at for longer than a second. No blood poured from the wound. He’d
been drained dry. Completely dry. His once tanned, perfect skin was as red as
mine—coated in his own blood and gore and death.
That realization made me even sicker. A sob caught in my throat while
my head reeled with the possibilities of what happened and how we got like
this.
No, that wasn’t true.
I knew what happened. It was me. I happened.
I wanted to puke, but my stupid body wouldn’t let me. No matter how
much excessive blood I’d consumed tonight, my body would only burn it as
fuel. It would never reject something so precious. Something so delicious.
Something I’d been depriving it of for years.
That moment right there—with my belly full of blood that wasn’t mine
and the boy I’d loved so fiercely dead in my arms—was my first truly
hopeless moment. There was only despair. Only grief. Only heartbreak. The
deafening, shattering, upending kind of anguish.
Things had been bad before, but never like this. Never so wrong.
Never so utterly and unforgivably my fault.
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