Lisa Jackson Cold Blooded Novels & Stories

Amelia had the key to her room so she locked it from outside so that nobody would come in and the guards would think that she's sleeping inside. She walked to the garden and pool, the dim lights flickered like an old burning candle. The buzz of the neon strips accompanied the hum of the slowly dying fan. The vapour of the intoxicating chlorine embedded itself on her nasal hairs. ''Swimming pools are scary at night," she thought. She tucked herself inside the cotton shawl she was wearing. Walking in the cold night.. it is the type of coldness that reaches into her bones, as if her heart was a door left wide open to the icy wind, slamming only to open again.

Roger gets out of the ring and walks out of the building. Jason is sitting in his living room drinking his morning coffee, his weapon case is open in front of him on the coffee table. In the case is his crossbow and the quiver of silver arrows, there is also a dagger with a serrated edge. Jason picks up the crossbow and aims it at the TV across the room, he thinks to himself " This world is not as black and white as uncle Ivan has made it out to be. There are unnatural out there who are just living their lives hiding in plain sight and they are not a threat to anyone. Are there hunters out there killing innocent people, because of who they are? I need to speak to uncle Ivan." Jason takes out

Three of them, one after the other. Panic surged through me, and without thinking, I transformed. My bones snapped and shifted as I took my werewolf form, my claws digging into the wood. I rammed my shoulder against the door with all the force I had, and the door splintered into pieces, flying off its hinges. What I saw inside made my blood boil. One of Jackson’s men stood over Lisa, his pants half down. She was lying on the floor in a pool of her own blood, her clothes torn, her face pale. Rage surged through me like a wildfire. I didn’t even think— instinct took over.

He did this so that he wouldn’t soil his hands with the blood of the stupid Alpha. No one said a word to Jackson. It didn’t please him, neither did it please Lisa who thought these new people were strange. Still, she believed that this conversation would be best handled by her. And so, before Jackson could ask the ancients anything, Lisa spoke. “So, who are you?” She pointed at Jacob as she asked this question. Jackson, though annoyed at being talked over, reclined deeper into his throne, waiting to see how this would play out. After all, Lisa was a better talker than him.

I didn't need to know what these people were capable of, the shivers running down my spine was enough. "Lucas was going back to die for Maddie in carcassone and then, ...we were hunted by Eugene, He was going to kill Lucas with a gun-, i swallowed, "He had all the cards, ...and,...and then i uh" His eyes penetrated my soul, causing me to jerk on my seat, suddenly the air felt suffocatingly hot. Elena stepped forward instantly, her manicured fingers tightening on the back of Christopher's chair until her knuckles turned white.

“Okay, go on.” “Then I bumped into a guard who wanted to hurt me but changed his mind because of Jackson's order. He sent me right to my room, but I didn't go back,” I paused and then swallowed a spittle. “I saw something happening in the red room... Jackson shot someone in the head. He didn't even flinch; he just pulled the trigger and wasted that man's life like it was nothing. He is a cold-blooded killer!” Eloise's mouth flew open, and she looked around, scared for her life. ”Jeez, Jade, did you see all that?” I nodded abruptly.

Justice POV: The city skyline, a jagged silhouette against the bruised twilight, appeared in the rearview mirror as we drove. The hum of the tires on asphalt was the only sound for a long stretch. Niko’s hands, long-fingered and steady, gripped the steering wheel. I watched them, tracing the subtle flex of muscle under skin, a phantom warmth still lingering from the night before.

Hunter looked down at the pool of blood flowing from under Wendy Jackson. He knew that he had to leave her house and fast, but he couldn't move. Even though he had finally ended the life of his childhood molester, he still did not feel any better. He didn't know how long he had stood there watching her still body, the sounds of sirens were what took him out of his fixature. He ran down her stairs and out of her house, leaving it wide open. He got into his car and speeded off...

Lisa was being held in the basement of an old villa, in an abandoned wine cellar, under the watch of Jax and others. As for how to handle her, Kendrick wanted to wait until Annabelle was discharged from the hospital before making a decision. Pushing open the door of the basement wine cellar, he walked in, and Jax helped him turn on the dim yellow light. Lisa sat leaning against the wall, her face pale, her black clothes covered in dust and bloodstains, both her own blood and Annabelle's. "Ken, you finally came to see me," Lisa grinned at him. Kendrick looked down at her, his gaze cold and filled with a murderous aura.

Above us, glass shattered. Then came the sound that turned my blood to ice. Jackson's voice. Roaring Anna's name. I took the grand staircase three steps at a time, my bare feet slipping on marble. The second-floor hallway stretched before me, lined with generations of Blackwell portraits. Their painted eyes seemed to track my progress toward Jackson's study, where amber light spilled onto the Persian runner. The copper scent hit me first. *Blood. Fresh and arterial.* A crimson trail led to where Jackson knelt on the floor, his dress shirt sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms slick with gore. Anna lay motionless in his lap, her emerald gown shredded at the shoulder, exposing pale flesh and—