In Cold Blood Chapter 1 Summary Novels & Stories

He asked, remaining in the position he was, at the door, far away from my bed with his arms dropping by his side like he didn't know a better position to put them. I knew he wasn't just asking after my healing so I asked, "About what?" "About everything that has happened but mostly about opening the book?" He responded so quickly, I felt he had expected that question. "When I had my first kill, I felt……" I exhaled tiredly when I couldn't think of the perfect word to come up with. "I didn't feel like myself nor did Amber. I felt cold on the inside like I had lost every feeling I knew I had." I answered truthfully, my fingers fidgeting on my the bed as I remembered how quickly that cold feelin

The first wave of shapeshifters screamed as they were thrown backward. But more came. And more. Steele transformed again. He launched himself into the crowd. Claws tore through shadows. Bodies slammed into walls. I raised my gun and fired. One creature reached me. I shot it. It fell. Then stood again. “Seriously?” I backed away. It smiled. “You carry the First Blood.” My blood froze. Another creature appeared behind it. “And the blood remembers.” The mark on my neck suddenly burned brighter. Golden veins spread across my skin.

Cold... It is very cold... I'm on my knees; I can feel the snow soaking through my pants. My hands are shaking in my lap; they're covered in blood. Why? There is a huge commotion around me, voices screaming, and I feel like I'm not there, as if my mind has decided to go away and leave me lying in this freezing snow. The blood on my hands drips and stains the white ground beneath me. Blood... Anaís... I clutch my chest; I can't breathe, like something is stuck between my ribs.

It chilled me to the bone. "Let you go?" The quiet one sneered. "Oh, sweetheart." The dangerous looking one just shook his head. "You're not grasping the reality of this." My stomach plummeted. The Cold One rose slowly, the first time he'd stood, and that felt like the most ominous move of the day. His eyes locked onto me, cold, calculating, utterly merciless. "This is your home now." The words hit me like a physical blow. "No... please," I choked out. He paid me no mind.

My head pounded with a deep, nauseating throb. I wipe my face with the back of my hand and stare at the blood on my glove. It doesn’t look real. Nothing does. Then… I noticed movement. A shadow shifts through the smoke. My hand found my gun without conscious thought. The first man appeared out of the haze with his weapon raised. I fire. The recoil jars my arm painfully, but the man dropped instantly, collapsing like his strings were cut. He hit the ground hard and still. Another shadow. Another body.

I grabbed a match from the mantle and struck it. “What are you doing?” Silas roared, lunging for me. I dropped the match. The gilt-edged pages, soaked in the dry rot of twenty years, caught instantly. The secrets of the Ares empire—the murders, the bribes, the “Conditioning”—erupted into a wall of orange flame. “I’m clearing the site,” I said. Silas tackled me, the weight of him slamming me into the mahogany desk. We hit the floor, a tangle of limbs and fury. I felt the detonator fly from his hand, skidding across the floor toward the vault.

He was pale as a ghost, and his heart had stopped beating. He was already cold as ice. Meanwhile, the sounds of bragging from Wayne's room hit me like a sledgehammer. "Ms. Stewart! Shouldn't we have the doctor check on Frank, just in case?" "Josh’s son is as worthless as his life. He won't die that easily." Jessica's voice was soft, but it cut through me like ice. "Just take care of yourself. If he dies, the Stewart family will have one less problem to deal with.

CHAPTER 63 — Blood Debt The world had gone quiet. Too quiet. No birds. No wind. No voices. Even the fire had burned itself out. Only smoke drifting lazily through the trees like wandering ghosts. Sipho knelt in the dirt, the middle child in his arms. Their blood soaked through his clothes, warm at first. Now cooling. Sticky. Real. Too real. His hands wouldn’t stop shaking. He pressed his palm over the wound in their chest like he could hold life inside by force.

Rhett's POV It was the cold that woke me first, that thin chill that seeps into the skin when the night air hangs heavy after rain. My eyes opened to darkness, the faint hum of crickets far away, and a dull ache running down my side. For a moment I could not remember where I was. Then the scent of blood and burned wood reached me, faint but distinct, and everything came rushing back. The ambush, the blades, the heat of battle, the way my strength had slipped from me before I blacked out.

A woman who was killed by someone of unknown origin fell to the ground in a stream of blood and turned the neck with oozing blood towards Akshara. Akshara was panicked to saw the bloody evil live murder and closed her mouth with her hands not to leave any sound which would draw attention to her. She doesn't know what she could do when a corpse looked at her with bloody tears. All she could do is to run… Run… the scene of the nightmare faded. A blasting thunder brought Akshara from the dream world to the real world.