Blood match
I slid a single, crumpled business card across the battered wooden table,
My fingers trembling just enough to make the red ink smear slightly. My heart thudded unexpectedly—curiosity, mixed with a strange flicker of unease. I reached out and carefully lifted the card, eyes narrowing at the bold, blood-red letters that seemed to pulse with life: Bloodmatch. Beneath the name, a smear of fresh-looking blood still glistened, as if it had just been spilled moments ago, and Shelby’s fingertips had left their mark.
“What is this? I asked, voice barely above a whisper, my eyes darting from the card to Shelby’s tense face. His voice cracked, softer than I’d ever heard it, as if he was offering an ol
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