Authors: Emma Mills
Witchblood
Witch Blood
Emma. C. Mills
Emma Mills
Copyright © 2010 Emma Mills
All Rights Reserved
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organisations is entirely co-incidental.
Witchblood
Copyright © 2010 Emma Mills
Cover Image : Laura Zalenga
For Corrina,
my friend.
A girl who danced with the faeries,
and now rests with angels.
Acknowledgements
A huge thank you to all my friends and family, who gave me a boost, when my confidence was flagging.
Thanks especially to my fantastic mum, Lynne, who re-read every new draft and searched tirelessly for my many grammatical errors!
Thanks also to my friend Ann Billing for your insightful and enthusiastic comments, which kept me writing.
Thanks to the agent, Eunice McMullen, for all her time spent on ‘Witchblood’, and her belief in it.
And finally my happiest thanks to my lovely husband, Tom and gorgeous children, who have supported me through the whole drama, and for always believing in me.
Prologue
The party was supposed to be taking place tonight, at the cricket club in the village where I’d grown up, and where my dad had lived until this very week. But I say ‘was’ in the literal sense, because here I am looking at the empty building. It should have been bustling with people, decorating it and bringing food, yet it was devoid of life; empty but for one rather cute guy. Looking slightly taller than average with broad, toned shoulders, he was sitting on a wooden bench overlooking the green, tears silently tracing patterns through his unshaved stubble, his piercing blue eyes glazed with grief.
He’d been there for at least twenty minutes, not moving. I knew this because I’d sat through every one of those minutes, watching him - the boy I loved. The boy I’d had impossible dreams about for weeks. The boy I couldn’t let go.
It was ironic that I'd been the one who'd been watched, secretly and completely unbeknown to me ever since puberty. For five years they watched and waited, expecting my unusual genetic code to kick in, hoping to help me choose the right path; but I suffered no prophetic visions, not once did the electrics blow up on me, and so the code lay, dormant, unused and unneeded, whilst I fell in love with the boy next door.
But now it was my turn to be the watcher, and with my genetic code awakened and running riot in my body, I found it difficult to stay still, stay hidden. I watched his tears and imagined he was waiting for a sign and wishing things were different. Wishing he hadn’t gone away to Dublin, wishing I hadn’t gone clubbing in Manchester with my girlfriends, wishing he’d never left my side and wishing my best friend hadn’t gotten so drunk she’d left the club without me.
Was he questioning life and death, wondering if there was a heaven, and if so did he think I was there? Could I see him sitting there, wishing things were different? Yet I am here, standing in the shadows watching him, unable to come out of my hiding place. I cry silent tears for his pain. I want to run to him, but my feet remain welded to the ground, unable to move a step closer for fear of what may happen. Still, I’m equally powerless to leave him alone, unable to take my eyes from his face. A face of which I know every contour, a face I grew up with, a face I want to hold in both my hands and feel his tears against my cheek.
I know exactly how his dark blonde, unruly hair would feel if I could clench it between my fingers. I know how his lips would feel: dry, a little bit cracked in the winter sunshine, but warm, always warm. And this is the reason I stay away; this is my secret, because only half of me wants to hold him, kiss him, curl into his arms and cry with him.
The other half I struggle to control. The other half wants to leap the short distance to his feet, hold his head in my hands, breathe in all his scent, and bite. Bite down hard and feel his warm thick blood rush into my mouth and throat and heat up my body. Set it alight like he’s never done before, and suck until there’s nothing left of him.
So for now I stay in the shadows. Watching and waiting.
Chapter One
‘Don’t you just
love
town Jess? I’m so glad you decided to stay in Manchester and not bugger off to Brighton or wherever it was,’ Alex yelled in my ear.
‘I didn’t have much choice in the matter did I? What with dad going downhill, and then Luke…kissing me.’
‘I know, I know, but it’s nice isn’t it, knowing your way around, knowing where to go,’ she answered.
It was true; I did love Manchester, and since starting university we’d quickly found the best bars and clubs, with the best happy hours, and already knew the safest back streets to take short cuts down. We felt free and safe. We were foolish and naïve.
While my friends all jumped around, Alex and I fought our way through the crowds to the bar.
‘Yey! It’s still happy hour. If we get two each now, we won’t have to queue for a while,’ Alex shouted in my ear.
‘Quit doing that will you! You nearly perforated my ear drum!’ I said flinching, as the awful tickling subsided in my ear.
‘I’m spending the last of my weekly budget on champagne cocktails. I can’t resist.’
By midnight we’d staggered from the bars in The Quay to a new trendy club, Exodus, and that’s where I spotted him some thirty minutes later. He was sitting in a dark corner of the club, talking earnestly to a stunning girl. Unlike me, this girl had definite supermodel qualities, with shiny, dark hair cut very blunt and modern, to just above her shoulders. Her long, slim legs were clad in a tight, shiny black catsuit with killer red heels. Interestingly though, neither of them seemed to be flirting with the other. In fact she almost looked aggrieved with him, which worryingly, I was glad about. He glanced up and his eyes seemed to shimmer a deep, dark chocolate colour. They were mesmerising.
‘Check out his eyes, Jess, and the rest of him come to think of it,’ Alex shouted in my ear over the booming music, nodding in the direction of my gaze.
I wondered if he was a football player, Man United, City or maybe a visiting club. He looked chic and slightly dangerous, and his dark shoulder-length hair was tied back in a low ponytail. He wore a trendy expensive-looking suit with a t-shirt underneath, covering what appeared to be a slim, athletic body. I couldn’t take my eyes off him.
‘Jess? Hello, earth to Jess?’
I was dragged out of my trance and suddenly plunged into the present, the surging music pounding in my head. I felt my cheeks flush as I realised he’d noticed me staring at him, and I swivelled round to face Alex.
‘Yes fine. I just need a bit of air. It’s hot in here,’ I replied.
‘OK, let’s go to the upstairs bar. It’s cooler there and we can sit down.’
As I walked towards the stairs, I could feel his gaze on me. Maybe it was my vanity, but I felt prickles on my neck and wondered if he was talking about me to the girl.
Another drink later and Alex had gone off to dance with Lucy, Gemma and some guys I recognised from Alex’s course. I was guarding drinks for the four of us and flicking through a text message from Luke, who was currently in Dublin for a friend's stag party.
‘Babe am havg gr8 time. Dont worry no strippers! LUXXX’
I smiled, and wondering what to reply, glanced straight up into the dark eyes of the mystery man. Close up, he was even more gorgeous than he appeared in the dark corner, and I smiled nervously.
‘I see your friends have deserted you and made you resort to your mobile phone for company. I’m Daniel,’ he added, stepping up to my table and offering his hand, which I ignored.
He was tall, over six feet I thought, and far too good-looking to be talking to me. He was well spoken, with a slightly old school English accent. I wanted to tell him I was in love, that it was my boyfriend I was texting, but my mouth was suddenly dry. I opened my mouth and closed it again, nodding weakly.
God! What was wrong with me?
My thoughts were all jumbled up. His gaze pierced mine and he had me transfixed.
‘Would you like another drink? What are you drinking? Rum and coke?’ he asked.
I nodded, somewhat taken aback by his ability to guess my drink, but then I guess there aren’t that many spirits which are mixed with coke. It was probably just a lucky guess, I mused, as I watched him walk towards the bar. As soon as his gaze broke away from mine, everything became clear again. I watched him and remembered Luke. Re-reading my text I quickly replied,
‘
Miss u. Lets watch a movie 2moro night. LUxxxx’
As soon as politely possible, I would get away and find the girls.
‘Here you go,’ he said, sitting down opposite and passing me the drink.
‘Thanks, ehm, I think the heat’s getting to me. I shouldn’t have accepted a drink from you. I have a boyfriend.’ The word still felt strange and new on my tongue and I could feel my cheeks burning. ‘He’s in Dublin and I’m missing him like crazy. I wasn’t leading you on and I’ll pay for my drink,’ I rambled on, looking at his beautifully chiselled cheek to avoid eye contact, as I fumbled in my bag for my wallet.
‘No need to pay for the drink. I just thought I’d keep you company, while you wait for your friends. I’m with a friend too. She’s just gone for a bite to eat.’ He paused momentarily and a flicker of a smile passed over his face. ‘She’ll be back shortly, but as I was on my way to the bar I saw you alone, and I thought we could entertain each other,’ he replied, smiling again.