Beatrice Basler Strike The Blood Novels & Stories

Her voice was gentle but firm as she grasped my wrist with her fingers and gently pulled up, encouraging me to let go. Callie reluctantly leaned back, and I finally relented and followed her. I was covered in blood, my hands, my chest, and my arms were all stained with the bright red of Beatrice’s blood. I could see blood on Callie’s shirt, and I couldn’t stop my eyes from staring at the stains, the beauty of the shape mesmerizing me. The red blood had been in Beatrice’s veins not just twenty minutes ago and now it was painted across Callie’s chest, a Rorschach test for me to figure out the mysteries in my mind.

Melinda struck hard, hitting Beatrice's sword with a force she staggered back. "That's cheating... you're hitting me badly." Beatrice glared. "I'm sorry dear sister but that's not what you'll tell an enemy if he hits you badly, is it?" Melinda chuckled, raising her brows. Tightening her hand on the sword, Beatrice moved forward with speed, striking hard. The sound of their sword clanking together could be held in the field. Beatrice took a step back, stabling her feet to move forward and hit Melinda. Melinda moved backwards, avoiding the hit as she swung her sword but Beatrice avoided it.

Chase made no fancy movements but simply struck down with his palm. The force under his palm rolled like a turbulent wave. Harlow's face drastically changed, and he roared in anger. He raised his hands above his head, trying to block the strike. Along with the sound of breaking joints, both of Harlow's arms fractured. His lower body was driven into the ground, leaving only his waist and above visible. The ground around him cracked like a spider web, filled with dense fissures. The many members of Basalt were stunned. "Just one palm strike and he defeated Harlow. Is this... the terrifying power of our chief instructor?"

I felt my leg give way, the sharp pain blooming as I hit the cold marble floor, my knees landing directly onto the broken glass. "“Someone should remind her where she belongs!" Lydia screamed, her face a mask of psychotic triumph. "Hit her until she can’t speak! Hit her until she remembers her place in the dirt!" Beatrice’s palm slammed into my face, followed by Silas’s heavy hand. I felt my lip split, the copper taste of blood mingling with the sour wine. One of the guests, a man looking to stay in Silas’s good graces, stepped forward and shoved me back down as I tried to rise. They were a pack of wolves, and I was the sacrifice.

She twisted Beatrice’s arm away with a sharp movement and landed a resounding slap across Beatrice’s cheek. The crack of it echoed loudly in the parking lot, several parents turning their heads in shock. Beatrice stumbled, gasping, her hand flying to her face. "You—you—" Before Beatrice could recover, Antonia struck again, another fierce slap that left Beatrice reeling. Antonia stepped closer, her voice low, dangerous. "Like I said," she breathed, her face inches from Beatrice’s trembling one, "I'm not the Antonia you knew before." Beatrice gaped at her, too stunned to move.

Beatrice. Her sharp eyes swept over me, lingering on the bloodied mess of my shoulder before narrowing with something that might have been concern. “Elijah,” she breathed, her voice soft but urgent. She stepped closer, her movements deliberate, like she was approaching a wounded wolf. “What have they done to you?” I scoffed, the sound harsh and bitter. “What does it look like?” I gestured to the claw marks, blood still dripping steadily onto the stone floor. “Your precious Alpha tried to rip me apart. Seems he’s not too fond of traitors.”

She felt the heat rise in her cheeks, the burn of rage surging through her veins. Something snapped. Without thought, without hesitation, Becca’s hand lashed out. The sound of hand against flesh echoed through the walls. Seraphina staggered back a step, her hand flying to her cheek, her eyes wide in shock. Mira froze, her breath caught in her throat. Ava gasped, stunned into silence. And Becca—her chest heaved, her palm tingled with the sting of the strike, but her eyes blazed with unshakable fire.

"You might be immune to our attack, but this little girl isn't." "Please!" Emily begged. "I’ll do—" Before she could complete her sentence, Elijah pierced the baby’s neck with his fangs, injecting his venom into her. "Let’s see whether the great vampire hunter will kill his own child now that she’ll turn into a vampire." Elijah blurted, and devilish laughter filled the room. The devilish laughter was followed by silence after their disappearance. "No!" Jake screamed as he dropped to the ground.

I explained. "Did you hear yourself, Adam? The woman was distraught and you continued to hit her. You did not care that she was afraid, or had been stabbed with a silver blade and had drugs in her system. You did not care, you just hit her. If she was a blood would you have done the same?" She asked me, and I nodded because I would. "I would have done the same, Desiree. If she was a Blood with the same record as Margret, I would have," I explained to her.