Novel & Cerita Strike The Blood Avrora

"...I will use you." --- An alarm blared. Evelyn raised the Arclight gun and pulled the trigger. The silver bullet exploded, creating a blinding flash of light. Callen dodged quickly, his staff glowing. Two energy forces – holy blood and black blood – collided, exploding into a blinding white orb. Evelyn was thrown back, her back crashing into a glass pane. A container shattered, red blood spilling out like a living river. Callen stepped forward, his voice echoing through the room.

Trevor raked his hand through his hair. He would have to find a way to threaten her again, or she won't agree. And even if she does, those mutts and old witches won't let her give her blood. Right now, Avyanna is like a humongous ball of power, and he knows how powerful only a small amount of blood can be. If possible, Dante might even get up to attack Avyanna and others and initiate the war. That way the things they did so far would become useless. Trevor sighed loudly.

"When I was drawing blood from Adrian today, he even asked me why I was taking his blood. This idiot! I'm dying from laughter! Hahaha!" Crash! Avery smashed her phone heavily onto the ground!

” He bombarded her with questions before he could even stop himself, and all he got in return was an eye roll. Ivy snarled impatiently, as if she was irritated. “When I merely asked whether you were ready, you asked much too many questions. Actually, it was a yes or no question, so thank you for not responding.” She replied sarcastically, with that deadpan face Jax recognized because he has the same expression when he’s annoyed.

Just before she fell, she quickly pulled a small bag from her purse and squeezed its contents onto her dress. "A theatrical blood pack. Easy enough to buy on the black market," Lorenzo said with a cold smile. "Miss Ava, your performance was truly impressive." Ava's face went deathly pale. "No, that's not what happened..." she tried to argue, but the video had said it all. Bruno stared at the screen, his expression shifting from rage to disbelief, and finally to a horrified understanding as he turned to Ava. Lorenzo had no time for the farce. He took off his tailored suit jacket and draped it over my shoulders, gently pulling me into his arms as he turned to leave.

Darkness envelops me, but somehow I still see, even though my eyes are still shut. Or are they? That intense feeling bubbles in my chest again, but this time. It takes over. Pain shoots up my hands as I feel the skin of my fingers tearing apart as it elongates. It’s brutal, scary but there’s a power surge in me that numbs it all. And I strike. Someone shouts and jumps away. I don’t stop swinging my arms, they fly everywhere hitting whatever and whoever is in my line of vision. Everyone scampers, my hands unable to strike anything again.

I stumbled back, my heart slamming against my ribs with a force that made it hard to breathe. "No," I whispered, shaking my head as the horror took root. "No, no—not him." Ava was beside him in seconds, her movements a blur of clinical efficiency. She pressed two fingers to the pulse point in his chest, then swore a string of curses under her breath. She drew a blade so quickly I didn't even see where it came from and sliced through the fabric of his shirt. Black, ink-colored veins were writhing beneath his skin. They were spreading in a chaotic, spiderweb pattern.

In the chaos, a rogue wolf seized the opportunity to lunge at Avery, grabbing her by the hair with a snarl, intending to drag her from the wheelchair to the cold stone floor. Avery struggled, her muscles coiling as she was yanked down. Though her mending legs made standing impossible, her years of survival training took over. Even from the floor, she used her leverage to disable several attackers, her strikes precise and lethal despite the disadvantage. The situation was spiraling toward a massacre. To ensure the privacy of High-Blood deals, the Apex Suite was shielded from the hall’s magical surveillance orbs.

She was already reaching into her bag when she said it, smiling when she pulled out the scissors, still smiling when she drove them into the back of my hand. I screamed. The sound tore out of me before I could stop it, and the room went white at the edges, my stomach lurching like the floor had dropped a foot beneath me. Blood welled up fast, spilling over my knuckles, dripping in fat red drops onto the tile. ‎ Ava crouched, almost gentle, and dragged two fingers through the blood pooling near my hand. She painted it across the inside of her thigh in one smooth stroke. Then she dropped to the floor, curled around her stomach, and dialed.