There Will Be Blood Upton Sinclair Novels & Stories

Like saying it out loud is its own kind of relief. "Don't talk," I say. I put my hands on him. The Moonblood knows what to do. I don't have to direct it or manage it or be afraid of it. It moves through me the way it has been waiting to move — not forced, not pushed, simply allowed. It finds the powder's trace in his blood the way light finds the edges of things in a dark room. Not by force. By nature. By the simple fact that where this kind of light goes, the things that hide in darkness cannot stay hidden.

It turned out that people like them eventually meet someone worse. I lowered the brim of my cap and turned to leave, not wanting to be recognized. However, fate has a twisted sense of humor. My leather shoe stepped on a dry leaf. Crunch. Brian's head snapped up. Our eyes met. His eyes went wide. Like he had seen a ghost. Or a savior. "Bro?!" That single shout drew everyone's attention. My dad looked up, too, a flicker of light in his eyes. "Chester… Chester!"

I didn’t need a blueprint. I just needed to follow the sound of the hearts I was protecting. THE END OF BLOOD AND BETRAYAL

Chapter 1: Blood Debt The warehouse smelled like rust and death. Luca Rossi stood over the body, chest rising slow and steady, the only sound in the sudden silence. Marco Vitale’s eyes stared up at the cracked ceiling, vacant now, blood pooling dark and thick beneath his head. One clean shot—center mass—then two more to be sure. Message delivered. Luca wiped his hands on a rag one of his men handed him, though the blood had already dried under his nails. He didn’t flinch. He never did.

The touch. I pressed my hand against my knee and looked at my palm. Nothing there. No mark, nothing visible. But I had felt it, the second his hand landed on my shoulder, something moving through the point of contact like a current, like something recognising something, and it had startled me so badly I had almost stepped back. It was the blood magic. It had to be the blood magic. I was freshly made and unstable and a working that large and that recent would produce side effects, sensitivity, misfiring responses to contact. That was what it was. That was the only thing it was.

Blood from my nose had run past my lips and chin, smearing across my cheeks and ears. The front of my shirt had long since lost its original color. It was soaked through with blood. The pool beneath me had spread to Derrick’s shoes, sticky and dark. “Harriet?” Derrick’s voice trembled. He called my name again. “Harriet?” Mom had been celebrating Sheila’s safe return. When she saw Derrick storm toward the storage room, she followed him. The sight before her made her scream. She covered her mouth and staggered back a step. Dad had been comforting the frightened Sheila. After hearing the commotion, he rushed over as well.

"From now on, both of you must learn to protect yourselves. Now go to rest Yve, I will help your mother downstairs on making food for us. If any of you need anything, just call us downstairs alright?" I nodded on her last statement and let her leave the room. I can feel how unfair the world was towards us twins. I can feel the anger seeping through my blood because of this selfish people wanting to take our bloods. Whoever is that greater force Lady Molly was talking about, I will make sure they will suffer in my hands! They had done enough damage. Third Person's POV

Quenten Yilmaz: Blood. Violence. Gut-wrenching, paralyzing screams. They follow me everywhere, including in my sleep. It’s like a reel of snippets flashing before my very eyes. Splatters of blood paint the walls. Screams of terror intertwine and become a single, continuous harmony of devastation that rings in my ears. Flashing balls of light ignite in the dark as illuminated bullets slice through the air, hitting everything in their path. Men drop to the ground swiftly, followed by a hush of silence.

“Blood” Damien froze, staring at the crimson stain on the wood…

I know those eyes, where do I know them from? An ache wraps around my skull, and I watch them lift me up. My neck turns on its own, I gape, the panic I had tried to stop rushing back with fevor. The severed head of my elder sister, her shining blonde hair soaked in deep red with a pool of blood surrounding her. There are other limbs next to her, her eyes are wide and empty. Something pushes up against my mouth, and I tremble. A wave of dizziness hits me, I don’t stop staring at the horror show until my lashes flutter down and darkness swallows me.