Novel & Cerita Read Blood On The Tracks

My knuckles were pale beneath the sticky sheen of blood that wasn’t mine. Zach stood in the middle of the carnage, his chest rising and falling, each breath labored but steady. There was blood on him that is not his, not this time, it's splattered across his shirt, painting over the tattoos that marked him. I traced them instinctively with my eyes, the ones I used to follow with my fingertips in quiet, fragile hours when the world outside our bed didn’t exist. Now they were obscured, swallowed by the stains of violence.

He cocked a brow and grinned again, showing his dirty yellow teeth. "Knowing the father of your children is searching for you all over the city." I tried to pull my feet in, to make the ropes slack, but the cords scraped like teeth. My left hand burned where the knot dug in. I tasted metal and old blood from the blow to my head. Scar laughed softly and leaned closer. “You've been busy,” he murmured, glancing at the table across the room. My phone lay there, a crack running through the middle. I felt a cold thread run through my chest when he picked it up and swiped it on and watched the screen glow.

she said confused while looking at me. "Maybe it's not working?" I said to her, questioningly. "That's impossible. I mean, I've treated many people whose wounds were deeper than yours, but they disappeared immediately," she said. "How did that happen?" I asked, confused. "I do not know. I'll just ask Grandma later, the important thing is that your blood is no longer flowing," she answered. We turned to Knox's when we heard someone shout. My eyes widened when I see the two vampires lying on the ground and slowly turning into ashes. Knox grabbed the neck of the vampire who was already up in the air and trying to get out of Knox's grip.

"I... I saw her head toward the loading docks, Alpha..." Tristan shoved him aside and ran. As soon as he pushed through the service doors, the stillness of the night hit him. And then he saw it. Under the flickering streetlight, a dark red stain was smeared across the concrete. Tristan’s pupils constricted. He crouched beside the pool of blood, his fingertips grazing the surface. It was still warm. A shiver of pure, primal dread surged through him. Just inches away lay my handbag, its contents spilled out like a broken promise.

a tracker announced from a few yards away. We rushed over to the flat rock and stared at the dark drops staining the gray surface. “Is it human blood?” I asked, looking at the tracker. “It smells like a wolf,” the tracker replied, shining his torch over the dirt. “But the trail is mixed.” “Ariana does not have a wolf,” I reminded them, turning to Drogo. “She never shifted. She cannot run in wolf form.” “Then someone else is bleeding,” Drogo noted. His expression darkened.

She pressed harder, called for the kit's clamp, worked with the particular, focused calm that had carried her through a thousand worse scenes at Saint Agnes, and around her, the warehouse held its breath — Marco standing very still a few feet away, Nico crouched close enough to hand her whatever she reached for, Leo silent now, watching, his hands finally still in his lap for the first time since she'd arrived. "Come on," she said, low, not quite to the patient, not quite to herself. "Come on." The bleeding slowed. Not stopped, not yet, but slowed, the particular shift she'd learned to recognize as the difference between losing someone and buying time to keep fighting for them. She looked up

She nodded her head. I made a small slash at my wrists and watched my blood begin to pool around the wound. Arisa reached for my wrist gingerly. She slowly brought it to her lips and began drinking. A shudder passed through me as she drank my blood. A second later she pulled away. Her eyes had tints of red in them, proof of the bonding process.

She says turning to the opening of the trail. I grab her hand tugging lightly as the fire stretches up my arm. My fingers lock with hers and she quickly falls into step with me. We fall into a silence and the fire is becoming distracting as I'm trying to focus on where we're going. There's a hidden trail out here that most humans miss because the markers were taken out a while back. I slow as we come to a small opening to the right of one of the largest trees out here. Sage doesn't notice and she loses her balance as I step off the trail pulling her with me. she stumbles into my side and I instinctively wrap my arm around her waist steadying her.

The storage room was dark. The hallway light poured in from behind Derrick, illuminating a large stain of dark red across the floor. It stretched from the doorway where he stood all the way to the corner of the room. I was slumped against the wall with my head tilted slightly to one side. A dried wound cut across my temple. The area around it had swollen into a massive purple bruise, so swollen that one of my eyes was nearly unrecognizable. Blood from my nose had run past my lips and chin, smearing across my cheeks and ears.

But I just could not help it any longer, being face to face with a wolf had everything flooding into my brain, and I wanted to scream my lungs out. Blood. It was blood that I saw. My parents' blood, spilled on the wooden floor around their heads. I saw their lifeless eyes and still bodies, and wounded faces. I saw my eleven year old self crying and screaming for them to wake up and look at me again, to call me their baby again. But that did not happen, it never happened. And I saw the people that had done that to them, their smug faces and crooked smirks, their hands stained with the blood of my parents, and the set of tattoos on one of their forearms.