Blood Rose (Blood Books Book 1) by Danielle Rose Page A

had an ache in my gut that told me Jasik wouldn’t always be there to watch over me.
    Jasik joined me in the foyer and, thankfully, respected my wish to not discuss what had happened. Instead, he explained that there were three rooms directly across from the grand hall: first, the conservatory. Its openness had made this room easily viewable when I had first arrived. It had no doors. Instead, two beams offered a grand entrance. There were more wall-to-wall, gray and black stained-glass windows. A fireplace was nestled in the corner, and groups of over-sized chairs gave the room a comfortable vibe. I focused on the room and its decor—anything to stop Jasik’s presence from reminding me that no matter how much I tried, I didn’t, I couldn’t, hate him. Instead, I wanted him. I wanted him so badly it left a pit in my gut.
    “You know, conservatories are for growing plants and such, but since sunlight isn’t a vampire’s friend…” I hoped he’d take the cue and explain why they’d have such a room in a house full of vampires. I’d talk about anything to get me to stop thinking about his proximity. My arm hairs stood on end as he stepped beside me, admiring the windows.
    “Since we perish only in direct sunlight, we put in stained glass.” He turned around and led me to another set of French glass doors. Pulling them open, he said, “You can get to the library from the foyer or from in here.”
    He closed the doors behind us.
    I inhaled deeply, and the smell of musty paper filled my nostrils. It tickled my nose but soothed my nerves. The walls that did not have doors or windows held floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. More over-sized chairs sat in corners, and large tables decorated the middle of the room.
    “Wow,” I said, looking at the books. “There’s… what? Thousands of books in here?”
    “Close to, I’m sure,” Jasik said.
    The smell of books was overwhelming and clouded my senses. They smelled of age, of strength and dedication, and of home. I smiled at the thought. We also had a library on our property. Our elders would teach young witches the ways of our people and the threat of the vampire race. I remembered sitting on the floor with my legs crisscrossed. I would eagerly listen to the tales that had been passed down from generation to generation. We’d spend a couple hours each night in the library, listening to stories, researching vampires, learning our history.
    The older I became, the more my mother pushed me to learn everything I could so that I could one day become an elder to our coven. But eventually, I grew tired of stories and games. I ventured out to experience my own life. I went to college and grew close to my classmates, but in time, I came home and devoted my life to protecting my coven.
    The books sat neatly on the shelves, squeezed into the spots that seemed too small for their bindings. I jimmied a book free. Its fabric cover was peeling, as was the threaded binding. As I flipped through the pages, I saw that many were stained yellow—some no longer attached at the spine. I closed the book and ran my fingers against the divots of the title. I carefully placed it back on the shelf, gently securing it in its fragile state next to the others. It was safe between the other books, protected. I looked down at my hand and then back to the book. Its torn cover gave away its hiding spot. It would never truly be safe.
    I swallowed hard and turned to face Jasik.
    “In training, will you teach me how to use my gift to fight?”
    “Soon, but not yet.” He replied without hesitation.
    “Why?” I was taken aback. He spoke so surely.
    “There are other things, more important things, that must be learned,” he answered matter-of-factly.
    I watched him as he held his stance. Without cowering under my glare, he stared back. What could possibly be more important than learning to fight the Rogues who did this to me?
    “Like what?”
    “I will not teach you to fight until you are ready to