Page 2 of Blood Currents
Shroud Guard.
Uncle had found me already.
But, no, these weren’t human.
They stepped into the moonlight.Three of them.Vampires—pale, elegant, and terrible.
“Blood magic,” one hissed.“Fresh corruption.He stinks of it.”
“He’s the one the master seeks,” another added, sniffing the air.“The traitor nephew.”
I tried to run, but my legs barely responded.
Too late.
Too weak.
“The council’s handiwork,” the third said, his eyes gleaming with cruel satisfaction.“Stripped him down to broken parts.”
They knew.
Theyknew.
“Take him,” the leader ordered.“Let the master see what his enemies do to their own.”
No.No.No.
I wouldn’t go back.Not to chains.Not to experiments.Not tohim.
I forced one last portal.It tore itself open with a scream of magic—unraveled at the edges, bleeding blackness.But through the distortion, I saw it.
Wickem.
“Stop him!”
I threw myself through as cold hands closed around my arm.The portal sliced shut mid-pursuit, taking part of the vampire’s grasp with it.I hit the stone on the other side hard, rolling across frost-laced cobblestone.
Wickem.
I was back.
1
Marigold
The old greenhouse had longsince been abandoned, overtaken by wild ivy and shattered glass.It wasn’t secure.It wasn’t even hidden.But Elio’s illusions cloaked it in dappled shadow and wind-kissed stillness, and for now, it was ours.
Ours.The word sat strangely in my chest, heavy.
We could be anywhere inside the royal tower, but outside of it, we had to keep what we were hidden.No one could know that my enemy had turned into… this.We were united, if not by love, by something like it, but why did it feel like the same old games again?Another pretty boy who stood by my side.Sometimes.
So why were we here, tonight, in this forgotten greenhouse on the grounds of Wickem Academy?The nip of danger was almost as sharp as the frozen November air.I didn’t know.I didn’t care.
But the cold never touched me.Not with Elio there, sprawled like temptation itself against the cracked stone bench—mussed blond hair, white shirt unbuttoned to reveal a smoothly muscled chest, and his lips parted like he already knew what I wanted.He made the cold irrelevant.
And his magic was already weaving warmth through the space with a simple housekeeping spell, probably one that I’d yet to master.Our familiars, Scout and Echo, lounged under the magical heat as though they were sunbathing.
I’d dressed for the cold—a thick coat over a sweater and a skirt—but skipped the tights.Maybe on purpose.Maybe because some part of me wanted this to be easier.Wanted to feel Elio’s hands on my bare skin and pretend that made it real.
