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Blood and Snow 10: Eye of Abernathy
Blood and Snow 10: Eye of Abernathy Read online
“Lips red as rubies, hair dark as night. Drink your true love’s blood, become the Vampire, Snow White.”
Praise for the Blood and Snow series:
“The modern twist on the Snow White fairy tale was interesting and original, which isn't easy to find these days. Highly recommended.” Sarra Cannon, bestselling author of the Peachville High Demons series
“This book will definitely suck you in (no pun intended) instantly.” Anthony
"BLOOD AND SNOW draws you in from the very beginning and never let's you go, only to leave you anticipating more! Loved it. Can't wait for volume 2." Debbie Davis from Debbie's Inkspectations
"This is a fun, smart, and sexy read!" Elizabeth Mueller, award winning YA author of Darkspell
“I definitely look forward to more, and recommend this to anyone who likes a fairy tale with a twist.” Kay Glass
“If you enjoy vampires and fractured fairy tales you'll enjoy these quick reads!” Laura Pauling, author of the Circle of Spies series
“Best books that I have read!” Mercedez
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Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Being a vampire had its advantages.
Seeing every infinitesimal detail—each hair on a bumblebee’s body, the individual beats of a hummingbirds wings. I heard worms wriggling in the dirt. The ants rummaging through the grass, the way their mandibles bit down, crushing an insect, or a leaf. Deciphering the scents of different types of blood—animal, human, and magical.
On occasion, my extra-heightened senses were difficult to deal with. As I glanced around my room, seeing flecks of Christopher’s blood everywhere, I thought I would be sick. Although Christopher was healed, his blood and guts (yeah, even guts, it was gross) were strewn on the walls, the comforter, him, the ceiling, the dresser, the carpet, and me. Everywhere.
Professor Pops took Daniel and Heathcliff to get buckets of soapy water. Gabe left, saying he needed to talk to the chayot about the latest developments. As he walked away, without saying good-bye, I sensed more going on with him.
The rest of us muddled around, trying not to touch anything while we waited. When Pops came back, we pulled on rubber gloves, and spent the next several hours cleaning. Dorian found part of a vein on the chandelier. But, as Professor Pops explained, we couldn’t have a cleaning service do it.
“How would we explain what happened?” he asked.
We grudgingly agreed. When we finished, the room smelled of lime soap, chlorine, and something else. Something made with magic.
“What’s the smell? It’s created from magic.” It seemed familiar, a scent I smelled long ago, but couldn’t place.
Professor Pops gave me a cursory glance. “It’s fairy dust. When mixed with water and chlorine, it completely eliminates any living tissue. I figured we should be especially sure we get everything.”
Christopher grunted.
“Yeah.” I took my soapy sponge and wiped the wall next to my bed. “What else can fairy dust do?”
Pops looked up from his work scrubbing the carpet. “Depends on what it’s mixed with. Fairy dust takes the strongest component and amplifies it a hundred fold. If it’s mixed with gunpowder, it can be extremely volatile. Combined with chamomile and vanilla, it’s soothing—deadly so, if you catch my drift. So it’s important to be careful with it.”
“Interesting,” I said.
“Creepy, if you want my opinion,” Sebastian said, helping Bart remove my bedding. As they walked to the door, Professor Pops said, “Stick the bedding directly into the washer with this.” He removed a glove, pulled a vial of pink liquid from his sweater pocket, and handed it to Bart.
“Got it.”
***
When we finished cleaning, Pops asked us toss our sponges and cleaning rags into a fire he built in the hearth in the living room.
“Get some sleep,” Professor Pops told his amazing sons.
Sebastian, Bart, Salvatore, and Daniel trudged to the door. I noticed their shoulders slumped.
They must be exhausted, I thought.
“Hey,” I called, and they turned around. “Thank you. For the help tonight. For keeping me safe. For everything.” I blinked back tears, and smiled.
They answered with tired but genuine, “You bet.” “You’re welcome.” “Sure.” And, “Anytime.”
When they were gone, Heathcliff said, “I’ve got to be to work in two hours, I’ll just grab a quick shower.” A shower sounded nice.
“Where do you work?” I asked, curious.
He swallowed, glancing nervously at Professor Pops. I turned my attention to the fire.
Secrets, my inner voice grumbled.
The living room smelled of sulfur, and magic. Flames licked the air in various shades of green, purple, and pink. Dorian, Heathcliff, Professor Pops, Christopher, and I stood around it, not for warmth, but comfort. Christopher placed a hand on my back, massaging lightly, filling my skin with tingles.
A fierce love for these men consumed me. I had to protect them.
Finally, Heathcliff said, “At a lab near the University, studying…”
“What?” Suddenly an image of Varden, with its spider webbed walkways, flickered through my mind. “Does it have anything to do with what Titan was working on in Varden? Combining science and magic.”
Heathcliff’s mouth fell open. “How did you know?”
Professor Pops shot Heathcliff a sharp look. Then he turned. “Sharra destroyed Varden not long after Silindra died. In the place the mountain once stood is nothing but sand.” He gave me a pointed look, one I wasn’t sure I understood. “We continue some of his work in the lab.” He gave Christopher and I an equally sharp look. “Please, tell no one. We can’t let what we’re doing get back to Sharra. And others.”
I zipped my lips with my fingers. “Not a word,” I mumbled. Jeez. I wasn’t one to blab secrets. Immediately, I clamped down those bitter feelings, unsure where they came from. If Professor Pops requested silence, it must be serious.
Pops fixed Christopher with a glare. “Vampire?”
“I won’t say anything either, but you have to let me come by the lab sometime. I’d love to see what you’re working on. Perhaps be of assistance in some way.”
Pops regarded Christopher thoughtfully. “Deal.”
Christopher nodded. “Good.” He put his arm around my shoulders, but continued to speak with Pops. “I think we should speak with Kenmei right away.”
“Agreed.”
Dorian chimed in. “Hunter, you might want to change first.” He screwed up his face in disgust. I gave Christopher a once over. His white shirt was shredded. Dried blood stained his shirt, pants, and shoes. He even had some in his hair. I guessed I looked as bad. Dorian continued, “I’ve got some clothes you can borrow.”
Chapter 2
Dorian brought Christopher a pair of jeans and a gray t-shirt. “To match your purdy new eyes,” Dorian quipped, batting his eyelashes at my Hunter.
I covered my mouth so I wouldn’t laugh. Christopher’s jaw flexed, and I sensed he didn’t appreciate Dorian’s witty sarcasm.
“Thank you,” Christopher said, taking them. “I can pay you.”
Dorian snorted. “Look at this place. Does it look like I need your money?” Christopher took his wallet from his back pocket. Dorian shook his head. “Consider them a gift.” Serious, he continued, “If Snow is on your side, then so am
I.”
Christopher cleared his throat and nodded. “Much appreciated.”
“Cool,” Dorian responded, then disappeared into the kitchen. I heard the toaster go down, and knew he was cooking a blueberry bagel. His “go to” breakfast since we were ten.
As Christopher and I started up the stairs, Professor Pops said, “No hanky panky.” He looked uncomfortable, but determined, and my heart melted. It felt good to be parented, even if it embarrassed me.
My face was instantly hot. Before I had the chance to respond, Christopher said, “She’s in good hands, sir.”
Pops rubbed a hand across his forehead, and headed toward the kitchen. He mumbled, “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
Dorian snickered, half a blueberry bagel smeared with strawberry cream cheese in one hand. It smelled divine. Dorian tore up the stairs, swatting my butt playfully as he passed by. “I don’t want to be late for school. Harvard expects serious students.”
I laughed at the look on Christopher’s face.
“Don’t be mad,” I said.
“Yeah, she was my friend long before she was yours,” Dorian said, winking.
“Not much longer,” Christopher growled.
I thought about that. He’d Marked me when I was five, kept an eye on me from a distance. He knew me as long as most of the brothers, even longer than a couple. But I hadn’t known him.
Perhaps not intimately, but you sensed his presence, my inner voice reprimanded.
It was true. There were several occasions when I believed someone watched or followed me. At the time, it was eerie. If he hadn’t been doing the Vampire Queen’s bidding, I may still have thought so.
Dorian snorted, and shoved the last couple bites of his bagel in his mouth. Stuffing it in his cheek, he gave us two thumbs up, said, “Later,” and jogged away.
I touched Christopher’s arm. His fingers grasped my hand as he pulled me into my bedroom, closing the door.
He wanted to hug me, I could tell, but he wasn’t sure where to touch. I was covered in his blood. But then, so was he.
“You want a shower?” I asked.
He brushed my cheek tenderly. “I want to kiss you,” he said softly.
In response, I met him halfway, our lips crashing into each other. My heart raced as he pushed open my mouth with his tongue. A whimper escaped my throat. The noise encouraged Christopher, and he pressed my body close, no longer caring what we were covered in. Walking backward, we made our way to the bathroom, our lips never straying. It’d been two years, and I’d missed his kisses, longed for them.
He closed the bathroom door with his foot. I pushed his shirt off his finely sculpted shoulders, down his arms, and let it fall to the floor.
Free of the shirt, I let my hands roam his body, taking special care of the spot the Vampire Queen ripped open. No scar. Nothing to indicate his insides had been exposed to the world—that he’d so nearly died.
He pulled back momentarily and my eyes searched his, the incredible new color, like nothing I’d seen before—except on Envy’s horn.
What did the magic of the Seal do to him, I wondered, touching his face with one hand and placing my other over his heart?
“Does it hurt?” I asked.
He shook his head. “No.” His lips found mine again, a new urgency in each kiss. I responded, my body coursing with desire. I wanted him to bite me, drink from me.
I sighed at a realization. He would never do those things again.
Christopher noticed. “What’s wrong?”
I didn’t want to answer. It wasn’t his fault I was changed, my blood no longer alluring. “It’s nothing,” I answered, trailing a finger along his collarbones, down the middle of his chest to his stomach muscles. I felt his body tremble at my touch.
“You’re sad.”
I swallowed back the lump in my throat. “I’ll miss your lips on my neck. The way your fangs part my skin. I’ll miss that part of us,” I said.
He didn’t respond and I looked up. An unreadable expression puzzled his features. As if making a decision, his gray-violet eyes focused on mine. And he smiled, a genuinely happy smile.
“What?” I asked, curious about what changed.
He nuzzled my neck. “You mean like this?” he asked, kissing a line down the vein.
“Yes,” I gasped, clutching his shoulders.
He moved to the other side of my neck and kissed the vein there. “Like this?”
“Yes. Yes.”
I craved him so badly.
When his fangs pricked my skin, I thought I should push him away. Do the right thing. I didn’t want my blood to burn him again. But I couldn’t. It felt too good. And when he sank his teeth into my flesh, I felt it low in my belly.
Wrapping his arm around my waist, he pulled me to him so my chest was touching his, and he began to suck.
I figured at any second he would pull back, that the pain would be too much, but he didn’t stop. Instead he sucked harder, and I clung to him, lost in ecstasy.
Many beats later, he paused, lifting his face, his fangs still drawn. My blood still on his white teeth. A look of exquisite pleasure in his eyes. They were darker, richer. The most beautiful eyes I’d ever seen.
“A-Are you alright?” I asked.
He ran his tongue slowly over his fangs, and they retracted. “I’ve never felt better.”
My heart leaped. “My blood didn’t hurt you?” I asked, just to verify he wasn’t in any sort of pain.
He cupped my face in his hands. “Your delicious blood didn’t hurt. It…” he pushed his fingers through his hair. “It soothed me, lit me on fire in a good way, helped me to realize something.”
“What?” I asked, breathless.
He pressed my hand against his heart. “I’m yours. Heart. Body. Soul. If you want me, I’ll stay with you forever.”
My heart jumped. Was he saying what I thought he was saying?
“I love you,” he continued softly. “But it’s more than that.” He shook his head. “Can you promise me something?”
“Anything,” I whispered.
“Don’t let anyone else drink from you. Okay?”
It seemed a strange request, but one I could honor. “I promise.”
He smiled and wrapped me in a hug, brushing my hair with his hands. “I’m going to shower. Want to join me?” he asked.
Say yes. Say yes. Say yes, my inner voice screamed.
I leaned back, so I saw his face. “Pops said no hanky panky.” I giggled.
He huffed. “You’re right.” He unbuckled his belt, slid off his boots, and undid his pants. I stood there watching. In awe of the gorgeousness that was my Hunter. When he slid his thumbs under the elastic of his maroon boxer-briefs, I jumped.
“K, I’m going.”
He laughed and said, “Fine.”
I closed the door, and leaned against it. My heart raced. At the memory of his lips on mine, his words… At the idea of almost seeing him naked. I so wasn’t ready for what naked bodies together meant.
How do you know until you try, my inner voice huffed.
I took a deep breath, working to slow my racing heart.
Someday, for sure. But, not today.
Chapter 3
When we finished showering (separately) and getting ready (together), we went downstairs. Professor Pops was in his office. He saw us, and stood, tucking his reading glasses in his breast pocket. “Ready to see Kenmei?”
We both nodded.
“There is an interesting new development,” Christopher said, as we made our way down the hall.
I looked at him. There has, I thought.
“I see.” Professor Pops said, as he grabbed his keys. We followed him to the garage, and got in the car.
On the drive to the train station, Christopher told him about my blood no longer burning him. Although Pops seemed upset about the possible hanky panky, he didn’t say anything.
Neither did I. Instead I mulled over his words, listened to what Professo
r Pops and Christopher had to say.
We arrived at Kenmei’s and I was surprised. I hardly recalled getting there.
“Come in. Come in,” Kenmei said with a bow.
We entered his home, and took off our shoes. Then he led us down the hall we’d come through last time. As with last time I visited Kenmei’s house, I was struck by the feeling someone watched my movements, like those paintings in old movies where the eyes moved.
I didn’t see any moving eyes though.
At the end of the hallway, we turned left. I didn’t think there’d been a hallway to the left last time. Nervous tingles raced along my skin. Did his house move?
You probably just forgot, my inner voice chided.
I shrugged.
Kenmei took us left, and then left again.
The room we entered was glorious, like an Asian garden and a sitting room combined. All three walls were painted green. The exact color of the bamboo sticks vertically lining the walls. Lotus flowers adorned the walls, as though they grew from the bamboo.
In opposite corners of the room stood cherry blossom trees. A tan leather couch sat in front of the wall directly across from the entrance. A matching love seat on the left and right. In the center was glass-top coffee table. The glass rested on an intricately carved wooden dragon.
Christopher and I sat on the love seat to the left, and Kenmei and Professor Pops took the one on the right.
I kept expecting to see Hiro, but realized he was probably at school since it was close to nine in the morning.
A beautiful woman brought in a tray of tea. I studied her; curious about whether she was Kenmei’s wife or daughter. Her looks were fresh, classic. She could’ve been thirty or fifty. I didn’t have to wonder long.
“Adam, you’ve already met my wife, Mulan.”
Adam stood, and bowed. “Hello. So nice to see you again.”
Mulan bowed. “And you, Adam Henry.”
Mulan wore a turquoise silk blouse, black pants, and black slippers. She didn’t have any makeup (and didn’t need any) on. Her hair was long, straight and black, except one thick streak of grey. It started above her right eyebrow and went all the way down to the ends. She held an air of innocence, except when she caught my gaze. Her eyes were like two black pools, filled with wisdom and knowledge.