Blood Possession by Tessa Dawn

Author:Tessa Dawn
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Fantasy, Fiction, General
ISBN: 9781937223045
Publisher: Ghost Pines Publishing LLC
Published: 2012-04-05T04:00:00+00:00

seventeen

Nachari Silivasi turned the vintage Calypso Coral 1970 Mustang off the main drag onto a back road and headed toward home. He glanced at Braden sitting in the passenger’s seat next to him and relaxed his tired muscles. They had returned Katie to her parents, and everything had gone as planned: Old memories had been erased, new ones supplanted, and all was right with the world again—at least until Braden found another mess to get into. He smiled at his young protégé as the boy bopped along to a rap song on the radio. Rhythm wasn’t Braden’s strong suit, but Nachari wasn’t about to point that out.

“So I have your word then?” Nachari asked.

Braden looked at him through the corner of his eyes, his head bobbing up and down and side to side to the music—well, somewhere in the vicinity of the music—and smiled. “About what?”

“No more trying out dangerous, unused powers without consulting a Master first?”

Braden rolled his eyes, and surprisingly, the eye-roll actually coincided with the beat of the song. “Yeah…yeah…I already told you.”

Nachari laughed. “Good. Then how about a movie tonight?”

Braden’s face lit up. “You mean in an actual theatre?”

“Sure,” Nachari answered. “Anything you want to see?”

“Oh yeah!” Braden exclaimed. “There’s this crazy, siiiiick movie about these Roman gladiators who—”

His words cut off abruptly and Nachari smiled, pleased that the boy had, for once, tempered his own effusive language. Nachari had cautioned Braden repeatedly to go light on the urban accent. A little slang was par for the course with a human teenager, but Braden rarely did anything in moderation: When he really got going, he sounded like a cross between Snoop Dog and Poindexter from Felix the Cat. Identity crisis 101.

“Go on,” Nachari urged. “What movie would you like to see?”

Braden coughed and anchored his right hand against the dashboard, bracing himself against a sudden onset of spasms.

Nachari slowed the Mustang and turned to look at him. “Are you okay?” This didn’t appear to be part of the dance, although Nachari had seen stranger things from the kid before.

Braden’s left hand went to his throat, and his cough grew more insistent, rapidly developing into an uncontrollable hack.

Nachari pulled to the side of the road.

“Braden?” He searched the kid’s face with growing alarm. Braden’s skin was clammy, his eyelids were heavy, and a soft sheen of sweat had formed on his brow. Nachari closed his eyes and tuned in with his ears, relying on his hyper-acute hearing to assess the boy’s condition: His airway was still open. His heartbeat remained steady. But something was rapidly making him ill. “What’s happening, buddy?” he asked, placing a gentle hand on the kid’s shoulder. “Talk to me.”

Panting in distress, Braden doubled over in his seat. “Going to be sick,” he mumbled. His right hand left the dash, and he pressed it to his stomach to quell the nausea. He bent over and moaned. “I mean it, Nachari. I think I’m gonna puke in your car.”

With the supernatural speed of his

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