Novelas y relatos de True Blood Plot

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.

He’d seen his mother with bruises enough times. In his dressing room he pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and stopped short at his bed. Blood? Why was there blood on his sheets? Faro did a sweep of his room and he walked over to his desk and bent to pick up the papers from the floor. Faro frowned as he looked at the marriage contract that now held Sihana’s signature. The blood drained from his face and his hands started to shake as he put the contract down on the table. What the hell happened last night?

A low rumbling sound escapes her lips and Azraiel instantly knows it’s her wolf. Azraiel keeps wiping her body with the ice-cold water but her fever doesn’t come down. Her squirming has now turned into thrashing and it looks like he’ll need help to hold her down. But he is also unsure...he has no idea what he is dealing with. He isn’t worried about himself…but about others…. Azraiel is still in a dilemma when something suddenly clicks in his head. He is a Trueblood. A fucking Trueblood. He should be able to handle this without endangering others.

Evander reached over and rang a little bell on the bedside table. Within minutes of Evander ordering dinner, Clio had returned with several plates of steaming hot food, mostly red meat. They were both lost in thought while they ate. Worry lines creased Evander's brow and he studied a book on military tactics that he had placed next to his plate. Sapphira wondered how El was doing with her mate and whether they had been through the mating ceremony yet. The mating ball seemed like a lifetime ago. And yet she trusted Evander less now than when she first met him.

He was waiting to see if I would let the bomb go off to secure my own, unparalleled power over a newly destabilized Syndicate. I had the phone, the number for Isabella, and the activation code burning in my memory. The power to stop the assassination and the ensuing bloodbath was in my hands. The power to rule was in my future. I tightened my grip on Vincent's arm, making my final choice. I opened my hand, letting my phone clatter to the marble floor, shattering the screen, and held Vincent's hand high, raising it in triumph, embracing the ruthless, bloody power of my new destiny.

During my three-year-old son's preschool physical, his blood type didn't match mine or my wife's. I had just printed the divorce papers when I suddenly heard my son's voice. [This disgusting man is so stupid. He's raised me, his own little brother, as his son for years and still has no idea!] [Lol, hurry up and get divorced. Once they divorce, I can cling openly to my real mom!] [And divorced men are unwanted anyway. From now on, every dollar he earns will be mine!] My wife was still anxiously explaining, "Honey! I really never betrayed you! Do you really want a divorce?" I looked at my son's tightly closed lips and excited eyes, then tore up the divorce papers instead. "No divorce. S

"So, Ty, would you rather watch a lame-ass movie. . . or play Truth or Dare?" Tyler looked at me as if he was apologizing with his eyes. He looked up and said, "Let's play," Of course, once again, Hailee is getting what she wants to do, it was as if no one could say no to her, not even me. I felt like I was living in her shadow since forever, and I couldn't escape it. We sat down in the living room in a circle, and we began the game. "I'll go first," Hailee says. "Tyler, Truth, or Dare?"

He begins to tell, his gaze averting to the Luna, his lips stretching into a devious smirk. “…using the nomads to eliminate the opponent on the night of his wedding anniversary. Sacrifices will be made, we need it to look like some rogues went on a rampage and killed almost everyone who attended and then my wolves step in to dispatch the rogues off. A brilliant plan, don’t you think?” Mother’s rage burns indignantly as she raises her voice, “You twisted bastard! You won’t get away with this I promise you! Henry won’t let that happen!”

I muse to myself, tiredly. Our child. “What do I do?” I finally ask, heavily. “You have to find the half-breed,” Malcolm shrugs, an elegant movement. “Find it draw it out, and behead it. Burn its body to ashes. Once it's done, the effects will fade. Your mate will be free. When the blood disappears from the half breed’s body, all remaining blood loses its magic.” “How do I know who it is?”

She didn’t trust the men surrounding her either, but she was wise enough not to utter those words. “It’s a good thing you don’t,” said Ryland. “They’re part of a group of mythics who have been practicing eugenics, with the end goal of creating the ultimate Trueblood. I don’t know how Sam realized your importance, but when he took you from Jim and Carol, he was saving you from the fate of growing up under the control of that group. A spy on their side tells us the leader believes you’re the strongest Trueblood that’s been born in twelve hundred years. They carefully calibrated and paired off generations of assorted mythics in order to breed you.”