Read Gifts of the Blood for Free Online Page A

patience I didn’t know I possessed. My mind raced ahead, planning ways to get Amberlyn out of the apartment as fast as possible so I could tell Logan about the vision and show him my sketch. Then he’d have to believe me. “It was…” I took a deep breath. “Look, you’re just going to have to trust me on this. That guy scared me, ok? You have a point about me being over-stressed and all of that, but if you’re looking for a catalyst, he’s it.”
    That guilty, furtive look traveled quickly between my brother and my best friend again. They didn’t believe me. I groaned. My hands curled automatically into fists. I shrieked when my right wrist twisted in pain. I sagged against the doorframe, feeling the impact of my day fully hit me. It didn’t matter what I did or said; they didn’t believe me, and they wouldn’t, unless I showed them. I needed a bath and fresh clothes. I wanted food and ibuprofen. Eventually, Amberlyn would finish plotting with my brother behind my back and leave so I could show him my drawing and explain that I wasn’t crazy. I didn’t care what the whole town thought of me, as long as Logan knew I was all right. I tried to push past them, but Amberlyn blocked my way.
    “You’re not going to like this, Caspia,” she said, her voice low and serious, her hand on my chest firm.
    “What?” I growled suspiciously.
    She sighed. “Well, see, we needed help.”
    “So?”
    “So. He brought you here.”
    “You said that already.” I tried to push past her again. Her arm shot out. She was smaller than me. I thought about shoving past her anyway, but something in her golden-green eyes stopped me. Logan stepped between us.
    “He’s still here,” my brother said.
    I froze. “What?” I finally ground out.
    “He clearly had medical training,” Logan rationalized. “It seemed like a real blessing, actually. It was him or the paramedics. And please don’t take this the wrong way, but we didn’t want to make any more of a scene than we already had. It just seemed like the easiest thing.” Logan eyed me anxiously, as if waiting for another explosion.
    Part of it didn’t matter; half the town had seen or heard me screaming, and the other half would hear about it soon enough. I could look forward to a new life as Crazy Caspia, Whitfield’s newest freak. But then Logan said… “He’s here?” I croaked, hugging myself. “Right now? In this apartment?" I looked wildly at the two doors leading out of my bedroom, and wondered which one he lurked behind.
    “Frightening Caspia was the last thing I wanted to do,” said a voice like smoke and honey. It came from the shadows between my wingback reading chair and my sagging, overstuffed bookshelf. I stopped breathing. He must have slipped in through the hallway door. I hadn’t heard a sound. Warmth radiated from the shadows; my brother and my best friend angled their bodies towards it. Even I caught myself straining forwards, and I was terrified. “She was so upset when I first saw her,” he said as his familiar, glowing eyes stepped smoothly closer. “I walked right up to her as if she already knew me. I just wanted to help.” He turned the full force of his glowing eyes on me while I tried to both shrink into the closet and remember to breathe. “But I only made things worse. I pushed her to talk to me. Add that to the shock of her biggest sale ever, on top of all the other strain she has been under, and of course she lashed out at me. Rightly so.” He bowed slightly at the waist, keeping his eyes locked on mine the entire time. “I’m grateful I have the chance to apologize. Again.”
    I kept my eyes locked on his, but fought the urge to retreat further into the closet. His explanation sounded good. Too good. I felt my eyes narrow. Probably because, like most lies and evasions, it was grounded in truth; he had done all those things. Except he was leaving out one huge, important part: he’d walked out of a drawing knowing too much