Page 78 of Veil of Blood and Bone

It’s a hint of history, isolated and preserved. Like me.

The resentful chuckle stalls somewhere at the rear of my tongue. Nothing special, sure. Nowhere in the nine worlds is this woman considered ordinary.

Gods watch her.

Fate flows around her.

Helene's knee bobs under the table. My legs carry me from one end of the room to the other.

Wren’s shadows creep, black ivy, along the walls. Searching for weak spots.

“I don’t understand it. And where do you fit into the picture? Why do you guys act like you know me? No one comes with a preset of nicknames. Unless this is all some kind of game? Is this more Cosplay?”

Those shadows darken, and the wind hurls frozen drops of water at the windows like tiny battering rams. “We can show you how real it is, monster. If you’re ready.”

She isn’t.

But at his words, her scent deepens, sweat pushing free from her pores. I’m at her side, the ache desperate and the longing cutting.

There is no brutish Forest to push his way near and cling to her side. No Forest to make her laugh now.

He always makes her laugh.

Her brows narrow, her eyes becoming slits. Anger is much easier to handle than fear. “I’m happier with a table between us.”

Her guffaw lacks emotion. In every life, she reaches for anger first. Fear takes too much energy.

“An honest to fucking god vampire. With healing blood,” Helene murmurs.

“Yes.” My chest squeezes. “With many stories to tell. Your sister will be fine.”

Because she has to be.

Wren sits up sharply, glancing into the living room. I track his gaze seconds before Audra bows off the couch, seizing. Her heart rate spikes from normal to a dead sprint.

She arches off the cushions with skin stretched tight over her face. Fingers curl into fists.

Helene stands, her mug still gripped in her hands, the motion sending droplets bolting over the sides. It sloshes to the floor.

She takes off, but I make it to her sister first.

No. This shouldn’t be happening.

My senses sharpen as I reach for the girl’s legs to hold them down. It’s not the blood.

She shouldn't have had any reaction to it.

The wound on her head has disappeared. This is something else.

“Hey, kid, I’m here. You keep breathing.” Helene’s voice steadies. “It’s a seizure. You’re going to be fine.”

She’s not panicking. She’s terrified, yes, like she was when she fought. But there’s a competence to her movements.

Resting her hands on either side of Audra’s head, Helene keeps the girl steady.

There's no way for her to stop the jerky motion, the horrible sounds torn from the girl's stomach.

“My blood is still in her. So it’s not a healing problem,” I mutter.