Poison Blood, Book 1: Revelation (Poison Blood Series) by Neha Yazmin

Author:Neha Yazmin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance, vampire, blood, love, witch, london, immortal, slayer, poison blood, poison blood series

Chapter 8: What the hell is going on here?

The town of Reading, in the county of Berkshire, is around 40 miles west of London. An hour’s drive, more or less. Though I never got a driver’s licence or took driving lessons, I’m sure I can drive. Drive pretty well, actually, since us vampires are really good at everything.

But I shall restrict my thievery to donated blood; I’ve never stolen anything in my old life, and I won’t steal a car to revisit it. Walking home will apparently take up to 14 hours. Hah! Not for me. I could run there in under 10 minutes, maybe less. I should totally time myself.

Being an underground vampire however, I decided to take the subway from the tube station near David’s house to Paddington, and then get the last train to Reading. It’s just one stop and takes less than half an hour.

And yes, I did pay for the tickets. As soon as my mother told me about David, I knew I would come to London to look for him after my exams. So I left home with all the cash I had stashed away in a shoebox under my bed and one of the first things I did after leaving Christian’s apartment as a newborn vampire was deplete both my current and savings accounts. I knew I would need all the money I had. It was enough to bring me to London and there was enough leftover to get me back home.

I spent the commute wondering whether my family still consider me missing, or have they concluded that I am dead by now? They’d be right, sort of. Human Ellie is dead.

Vampire Ellie however, is currently strolling in the shadows towards the four-bedroom terraced house she grew up in. Its real dark now, the black moonless sky such a contrast to the light jade one I saw the last time I was here.

Suddenly, I see myself staring back at me from every tree and lamppost lining the road outside my old home. ‘Have you seen Ellie?’ are the words I read. There are flyers stapled everywhere, with my face on them. Some look freshly printed and mounted up, others are tearing at the edges.

I’m taken aback by the phone number written on them. Not my sister Heather’s. Not my mother’s. But her husband Jake’s mobile number. I don’t need a closer look, but I run down the pavement, quick as a flash, smelling the scent coming off the tattered papers stuck to tree-trunks and metal posts. It’s his aftershave on all of them. When I stop at the newest-looking of the flyers and inspect it closely, I don’t smell anything of my mum’s on it.

Just Jake. He’s the one who’s still putting these up, still searching for me.

Did my mother give up after a few months of looking for me, the flyers she put up washed out by the rain, blown away by the wind, cleaned up by the bin-men, dissolved by time? Or has it always been Jake?

I find that I can call him dad again.

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