Dead Man's Blood Supernatural Novels & Stories

she cursed out loud, forgetting for a moment where she was. "Blood." Her abductor growled, a deep sound that sent shivers down her spine causing her to feel dread. "I hate the sight of blood." Hers was a rich red and thick blood that smelled nice and caused his nose to pucker. He tried so hard to contain his fangs but couldn't. They bared themselves out in agitation and he turned away immediately. It's been so long since he had any contact with human blood. The beastly side of him had become excited when they perceived the richness of her blood and had reared up its ugly head.

Dark magic was her solitude but right now, it didn't give her any solace She threw a bone to the boiling water. There was a new dead man there joining the bones of who came before him. He was drained of blood after Miranda took his pleasure. When she was satisfied of his flesh, she then consumed the blood while it was still in it's purest satisfaction. That made it so powerful. The fulfillment of one's desire was the dream of the living. It was just mercy to the man since he died satisfied. For mortality had no limits on satisfaction, he would just have been disappointed after knowing that he was living only on a drea

After all, if they were they were without a flaw, why would they have accepted another as their lord? This weakness was silver. Unless one possessed silver – the only mineral that was poisonous to them – a Blood Daemon will never die. Breaker had died exactly because of this. You see, Davies had attacked the unfortunate Undead with Dark Shadow’s weapon, unaware that this weapon contained silver in it. Although it wasn’t much, it was enough to kill a Blood Daemon if their vital spots were struck, and there was nothing more vital than the head and the heart, was there? In a sense, Davies had been lucky. After all, it was merely a fluke that he had murdered with a dagger that was not his own. T

He raised his hands, and the murmur died. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome! Tonight we have rarities that have no price in the mortal market. Artifacts, enchantments and… of course, the main piece.” The tension in the air thickened. Dmitry felt the beast in his chest growl. He rested his elbows on his knees, eyes fixed on the stage. Irina leaned toward him. “According to my sources, the supplier of the demonic blood is European. Discreet. A new name.” “I want the name by the end of the night,” Dmitry growled in response. “And if possible, the address.”

The battlefield, bathed in moonlight, became a crucible where destinies clashed, and the outcome of the war hung in the balance. Dylan, the orchestrator of vampiric power, raised his hand, signaling the commencement of the supernatural display. The night erupted into a kaleidoscope of dark energies, each elder channeling their unique abilities into the maelstrom. Silas, drawing upon his centuries-old expertise, sought to decipher the nature of the impending onslaught.

" I asked. "She is going to be dead very soon," A man said to Damon. "So what did you expect me to do?" He asked. "Give her your healing blood to drink, that may bring her back.. My blood did nothing" He replied. "Knife" Damon ordered and it was brought to him immediately while I moved back to his side. He cut his hand and the man beside her opened her mouth and Damon poured a little of his blood into her mouth. The next thing that happened was her reckless body moving and then it stopped and she closed her eyes.

We're both breathing heavily and I open my mouth to speak but it's no longer me talking, my wolf has taken over and he wants to claim what is his. "Just say the word and I am yours." My voice is a gravely demonic version of my own and I can see from the reflection of her glasses that my eyes are completely silver now. A contrast to her deep golden iris's that shine brightly back at me. Complete opposites. That's what we are. Only the goddess knows why we were paired together. My canines extend as I wait for her to respond her eyes never leaving mine. Her answer is so soft, so faint, it's nearly lost on the wind. Nevertheless I hear it. "Yes."

"And in the Bulgarian legends, folklore has it that a dhampire must also feed on human blood to sustain its existence. In Serbian tales, the dhampire has an oversized head and a small body with no shadow. Other myths say that those dhampires have slippery and jelly-like bodies with no bones, no fingernails and also a deep mark on their backs as though they are missing a tail." Then Cammie shuddered in disgust. Alyssa also grimaced along. I looked at both of my best friends, trying to keep a straight face. But I still felt like bursting into tears. This was the most insulting thing I had ever heard in my entire life. I know I don't look as beautiful as Cammie or as preppy as Alyssa, but I'm s

“Oh, but you did. Your fire woke it. The boy carried sleeping blood. Old blood. The kind the Council thought was gone. And you, my dear, pulled it out of him like pulling thorns from skin.” I shook my head hard. “No. He was just Damon. He was normal.” Magnus laughed, low and cruel. “No one is normal when they stand too close to you. You are the spark that wakes the dead blood. You make the buried rise.” Damon groaned, clutching his chest. The glow spread across his neck and jaw, his veins shining silver like rivers of light. His body shook as if something inside him was tearing free.

I knew there was nothing I could do against so much blood magic, but no way was I giving up, not now, not ever. My Sidhe power held her back as Ameline drew in the rush of magic suddenly available to her, flooding the basement with a mist of red stinging my eyes and skin and making my lungs ache. Shaylee cried out, tried to flee from the touch of the cloud as we all, my demon and Sidhe princess and I, realized what it was at the same moment-not just magic, but blood itself, infused with power and suspended and feeding Ameline with every single pinprick of it when it touched exposed skin or reached our lungs.