chunk of brittle in her mouth.
“Thanks for the advice,” Ethan said.
“You’re a dark blood, aren’t you?” The words caught Ethan off guard and he tensed.
“I have dark blood but I haven’t—”
“-But you will. I can sense it. Just like I did with my sister,” Sage said, slowly scooting away from Ethan.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Sage.”
“Sorry, but I’m just taking precautions. It took me a long time to trust Preston and Adam. I just have had bad experiences with dark bloods.” Sage stopped midway to Adam. He didn’t stir, not even a smidge as the two spoke.
“I understand, I guess.” Ethan felt uncomfortable now. He didn’t like that she was scared of him; it made his stomach feel strange and gave him an immediate headache.
“My sister, her name is Petra. She is two years older than me and we used to be as close as twins. But my mother had dark blood, even though she didn’t embrace it, it was still her blood. So when we were born, we inherited dark magic. I chose to stay who I was… so did Petra… until something just snapped inside of her.”
“I’m pretty certain it was when a vampire ripped her favorite horse’s head off. On her eighteenth birthday, she let the dark have her. After that day, two years ago, I lost her. She tried to kill me and then she just… vanished .”
“Where did she go?” Ethan asked.
“She joined Craven and his villain squad and turned on everything she knew. She’s an outlaw now, and she’s wanted by the council. In addition to her capture, she is supposed to be executed after she is recovered. My sister… you … stop yourself now before you become my sister, Ethan. Otherwise, you’ll lose everything… and you will never ever get it back.”
9
Ethan couldn’t sleep. All he could think about all night until dawn was Sage’s story about Petra. It was eating at him, searing through his brain like acid. It would not leave his head.
Sage had tears in her eyes as she spoke about Petra, and when she plead to Ethan to stay good, her eyes glistened with sorrow filled mist.
He couldn’t force himself to give up his dark blood, but he would try his best to keep it under, like Bennett had told him to. It was either keep it under… or become his father.
Ethan was hidden behind the curtains of the living room window, watching as the grayish sun bled unto Adam’s street. A wooden sign hung from a streetlamp, with the word Oberon scrawled in a white ink across the plank of elder wood. Ethan figured it was Adam’s street name and mentally stored it just in case.
An old man dressed in rags shuffled slowly up the street, appearing out from the snow and faint fog. The fog hadn’t fully cleared, but it was clear enough to venture through. Chills cascaded down Ethan’s spine. He attempted to pull himself away from the window, but the man turned and caught Ethan’s eye.
Lanky brown skin on his face hung in bulgy lumps, half concealed by a tattered red scarf and a large mustard tinted parka. He was pulling a medium sized gray cart and as the man neared, Ethan saw that the cart was full to the rim with dead cats. Ethan was about to scream, but was cut off by a freezing hand covering his mouth.
“Don’t scream.” It was Adam’s voice. “You’ll wake up half of the street.” Ethan nodded and Adam released his hand from his mouth.
“What is he doing with those cats?” Ethan whispered.
“They are familiars. When a witch dies and has a familiar, the familiar dies with them. Cats are most common as familiars but he’s probably taken care of the other animals already. Craven has killed a lot of witches, Ethan. And more will die unless we figure out a way to destroy him.” Ethan thought of all the witches who had
“Thanks for the advice,” Ethan said.
“You’re a dark blood, aren’t you?” The words caught Ethan off guard and he tensed.
“I have dark blood but I haven’t—”
“-But you will. I can sense it. Just like I did with my sister,” Sage said, slowly scooting away from Ethan.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Sage.”
“Sorry, but I’m just taking precautions. It took me a long time to trust Preston and Adam. I just have had bad experiences with dark bloods.” Sage stopped midway to Adam. He didn’t stir, not even a smidge as the two spoke.
“I understand, I guess.” Ethan felt uncomfortable now. He didn’t like that she was scared of him; it made his stomach feel strange and gave him an immediate headache.
“My sister, her name is Petra. She is two years older than me and we used to be as close as twins. But my mother had dark blood, even though she didn’t embrace it, it was still her blood. So when we were born, we inherited dark magic. I chose to stay who I was… so did Petra… until something just snapped inside of her.”
“I’m pretty certain it was when a vampire ripped her favorite horse’s head off. On her eighteenth birthday, she let the dark have her. After that day, two years ago, I lost her. She tried to kill me and then she just… vanished .”
“Where did she go?” Ethan asked.
“She joined Craven and his villain squad and turned on everything she knew. She’s an outlaw now, and she’s wanted by the council. In addition to her capture, she is supposed to be executed after she is recovered. My sister… you … stop yourself now before you become my sister, Ethan. Otherwise, you’ll lose everything… and you will never ever get it back.”
9
Ethan couldn’t sleep. All he could think about all night until dawn was Sage’s story about Petra. It was eating at him, searing through his brain like acid. It would not leave his head.
Sage had tears in her eyes as she spoke about Petra, and when she plead to Ethan to stay good, her eyes glistened with sorrow filled mist.
He couldn’t force himself to give up his dark blood, but he would try his best to keep it under, like Bennett had told him to. It was either keep it under… or become his father.
Ethan was hidden behind the curtains of the living room window, watching as the grayish sun bled unto Adam’s street. A wooden sign hung from a streetlamp, with the word Oberon scrawled in a white ink across the plank of elder wood. Ethan figured it was Adam’s street name and mentally stored it just in case.
An old man dressed in rags shuffled slowly up the street, appearing out from the snow and faint fog. The fog hadn’t fully cleared, but it was clear enough to venture through. Chills cascaded down Ethan’s spine. He attempted to pull himself away from the window, but the man turned and caught Ethan’s eye.
Lanky brown skin on his face hung in bulgy lumps, half concealed by a tattered red scarf and a large mustard tinted parka. He was pulling a medium sized gray cart and as the man neared, Ethan saw that the cart was full to the rim with dead cats. Ethan was about to scream, but was cut off by a freezing hand covering his mouth.
“Don’t scream.” It was Adam’s voice. “You’ll wake up half of the street.” Ethan nodded and Adam released his hand from his mouth.
“What is he doing with those cats?” Ethan whispered.
“They are familiars. When a witch dies and has a familiar, the familiar dies with them. Cats are most common as familiars but he’s probably taken care of the other animals already. Craven has killed a lot of witches, Ethan. And more will die unless we figure out a way to destroy him.” Ethan thought of all the witches who had
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