Twisted Potions (Hidden Blood Book 2) by Al K. Line

Author:Al K. Line [Line, Al K.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Published: 2017-07-02T04:00:00+00:00

Hazy Daze

I left Grandma's in somewhat of a discombobulated state. She'd given me a lot to think about, or maybe there was nothing to think about. What she'd said had merely cemented my own thoughts and opinions. She was right, of course. I treated the Chemist differently, everyone did, and that was on us. You can't ever get into the head of someone else, and you're a fool if you think you can.

Trust me, I've tried.

I drove away, not knowing where I was going or what to do next, just driving as it helped to clear my mind. Strangely, I found myself at Vampire HQ without consciously meaning to drive there, and having passed through security I sat in the empty library surrounded by dusty ancient books of all description. Some were worth nothing, purely there to be read, others were collector's items, first editions bound in ancient leather. Not all the leather was from animals. Eek!

More tomes than you'd imagine were of the magical variety, books Oskari shouldn't have. He'd be in serious trouble for owning them if the Council knew, but I wasn't about to tell, neither was anyone else. I listened to the house and its occupants, felt the coldness seep into my bones, waking the vampire within. The numb, uncaring atmosphere was powerful here, housing as it did so many of my kind. At the heart of the country's vampires, their power soaked into the very fabric of the building, affecting everything within.

I could feel the presence of each and every vampire here, like a background noise to my own thoughts. Most were nasty, despicable creatures, long ago having lost any semblance of humanity. They thought highly of themselves, cared little for humans, thinking of them as primitive animals only suitable for food and some fun times. But not all were lost like this. Some were like me. Most younger, needing the solace of their own kind but struggling every day to hold on to that intangible something that rooted them to their past and their humanity.

There was also a sense of fear, a tension. Vampires know what they are, who they are, and don't care, but they are also afraid. Afraid they are truly insane, that what they believe and feel is the product of something having gone terribly amiss, and one day they will awaken to discover it's a dream and they have become something monstrous. Stupid really, as if they could think clearly they'd realize that's exactly what's happened.

I sensed the movements of the bodies that could remain awake and alert during the day, could hear the blood coursing slowly through the icy veins of the ancients down beneath the earth or in the windowless rooms of the great house. I sensed Oskari, asleep somewhere safe, his mind at rest, his conscience clear, but always the background scheming.

Vampires are open to each other to some degree, there's no place to hide, and just as I knew Oskari was a fair but ruthless man with no conscience, he and the others knew the kind of person I was.

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