Page 14 of Her Blood Revenge

Images of Neve writhing in pain, down in the depths of our cells, make me smile. I would gladly unleash my shadows on her. Watch them twist and break and tear her apart from the inside out.

Ashe whimpers.

I’ve gripped her doll too hard. I’ve crushed her, just as I do in her dreams when I place those stones on her body.

I drop the poppet.

She has no fucking right to make me feel like this!

A blood witch. That’s what she is.

Nothing but a blood witch.

I’ma demi-god.I’mdarkness and death.

She should run in terror at my mere presence.

The rage swimming in my heart disappears as she lets out a little whimper.

She didn’t run from me.

She was the only one who didn’t.

That glint in her eye when she heard what I was lives with me. Her smile and questions. Asking if I am happier here than I was before. Calling me beautiful.

Perhaps she saw herself in me. She lived with the shadows, too. With the souls in the mirrors. With the spirits lurking in the shadows.

I sigh deeply, my entire body sagging under the weight of the truth.

I can talk about killing her all day and all night. But I know I won’t.

I’m totally and utterly obsessed with her.

I’m in love with her.

She’s the air I fucking breathe, and I would rather live in a world where she hates me than live in a world without her.

I lean down to pick up the poppet, the soft, silver hair brushing against my fingers as I collect it.

And when I lift my head, Ashe, my real poppet doll, is sitting up.

Completely sober, and her narrowed eyes, full of wrath, staring right into my soul.

Chapter four

The Necromancer

The Shadow Master blinks as he sees me. His eyes are a little wider than usual.

Startled. I realise he’s actually startled.

I taste blood on my tongue. One of them fed me. Archie. I taste him all the way down the back of my throat.

Fuckers.

I was enjoying my wine-fuelled fog. Trust them to force-feed me their blood and sober me up.

The Shadow Master rises, meeting the level of his gaze with mine. When he shifts, I feel the tug of a familiar chain around my neck. Looking down, I see the end wrapped several times around his wrist.

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