Read Blood Prize for Free Online Page A

anyone’s help.”
    Tom hurried out of the store and set off along the familiar putrid streets that led to his old residence. He knew of several places to hide, but first he needed to confront the people who pretended to be his parents. They knew something, or they knew someone who did. He needed answers. Even now, that hellcat of a woman could be following him.

Chapter Six
    I sobel tried to duck away from the wet leaves that evaded her scarf and attacked the only exposed portion of her face. She retaliated; flaying an open hand at the intrusion. She hated the wind. It penetrated through every layer of clothing, freezing her skin.
    What the hell happened to spring?
    As she tried to imagine gorgeous sunshine warming her face, the youthful countenance of another filled her vision.
    “Good morning, Isobel.”
    The young man stumbled in his haste to open the door for her. She gnashed her teeth and tried not to frown. Men acted so foolishly in her presence. ‘Your eyes are like jewels; you’re so beautiful’.
    Bullshit.
    Rampant hormones made her attractive to men. She knew what they wanted; what all men wanted.
    She looked for her reflection in the glass door and winced.
    Damn freak.
    She recalled her mother’s comforting lies. ‘You’re petite, my dear. Not tiny’.
    What a load of rubbish.
    She weighed only thirty-nine and three quarter kilos. Even as a woman of nineteen, strangers treated her like they might a ten-year old.
    She remembered standing naked in front of her bedroom mirror; never feeling beautiful, never feeling sexy; just hoping for a transformation; a miracle. She conjured many tall, curvaceous women, always imagining herself bursting with confidence, but when her eyes opened, there stood the same ‘twig’ with the tiny breasts and the protruding ribs.
    She felt almost ill comparing her imagined self with the fleshless body beneath her clothing; a creature whose skinny legs created a gap between her thighs, a hand’s width apart. This made her pubic bone seem larger than what she considered to be normal. She looked prepubescent, with almost no pubic hair and noticeable weblike veins flowing under her translucent skin.
    I’m grotesque and horrible.
    She glared at the young man as he opened the door for her.
    “Look, I’m paying you to be a technician not a dim-witted doorman.”
    Isobel ignored his mumbled reply and entered. She allowed herself a moment to take in her surroundings.
    God, I love this place.
    The old Sydney Road building remained a link to her past; to her parents. It once accommodated a small furniture factory, with some offices and a showroom in the front upstairs portion and a production line operating on the ground floor.
    Her father and his partner converted the two storeys of decaying red brick, exposed hardwood beams and rusty corrugated iron, into a high-tech fabric-testing laboratory.
    “Excuse me, Miss Kite …”
    Damn it … Leave me alone. I don’t want your attention.
    Isobel headed towards the back of the building, avoiding all conversation with speed. She maintained an angry expression as she proceeded, ignoring everyone in the room. As she reached the rear of the building, she allowed her eyes to follow the low ceiling and exposed pipes to where they turned upwards, disappearing into the heights of the interior. She began to relax. Here, her staff tested fabric strength and durability; it felt like a second home to her.
    She mounted the steps to the mezzanine platform, which ran along the back wall of the building. It once housed spare parts and unused equipment, but she cleaned it up, glassed in the front and added the necessary equipment for an efficient office.
    Efficient …?
    She frowned at the thought. She couldn’t stand the accountancy side of the business, nor could she stomach the endless river of administrative duties.
    “You’re late, Isobel Kite.”
    The woman standing by the door smiled, but meant it as a rebuke.
    “We’ll need to work through some