2. Darkness in the Blood Master copy MS 5 Read Online Free PDF

that picture, Logan. Birmingham is too close. We have to treat this as a warning. Caspia, we never caught the demon that tracked you last winter. Add kidnappings into the mix, and it’s not safe to go wandering by yourself.” He fixed me with one of his darkest glares before turning to Logan. “You too. You both go out in pairs.”
    “But,” Logan started to protest.
    “He’s right,” I interrupted, tempted to tell him about the changes I’d seen in my brother’s eyes. But there had been enough revelations for one morning. “Just because you haven’t erupted into Shadows yet doesn’t mean it won’t happen, or that you don’t have some other ability. And we don’t even know who’s being targeted, exactly. It could be anyone with Nephilim blood, gifted or not.”
    “But that’s ridiculous. I can’t do anything. I never have been able to,” Logan protested. I could tell it upset him, the idea of having a chaperone everywhere he went. I fought down annoyance. So it was fine for me, but he got to play by different rules? That was so Logan.
    “We don’t know what they’re after,” Ethan added evenly. Only then did I realize he had managed to clear most of the table without dropping a single thing. Of course, the plates and cups were all melamine, so it wouldn’t have mattered if he did. But it still made me happy to see his hand-eye coordination improving. I gave him my sunniest, most encouraging smile. “We should start checking the newspapers for any unusual disappearances. Let’s focus on the nearest big cities; I’ll take Nashville or Atlanta, whichever you don’t want, Cas, and Logan, if you…”
    Too late, I saw it coming. Too late, I cried out for him to stop. I watched the glass coffee pot shatter, smashed against the wall as Ethan simultaneously misjudged the distance to the kitchen counter and lost his balance. Glass and hot coffee soaked into the wall, the floorboards, and Ethan, who stood perfectly still while the mess settled around him. He’d learned by now that the best way to react to broken glass was to freeze in place until the shattering was over, otherwise he risked making the situation worse by slicing himself up even more.
    “Sorry,” he said at last in a tight, angry voice as the last shards of glass dropped to the wooden floor with a chiming sound.
    “Are you hurt?” I asked, carefully navigating pools of coffee and razor-sharp glass. Logan followed silently with the broom. He began the familiar drill of cleaning up. My job was Ethan triage; only after that would I return to help with clean up.
    “I don’t know.” His shoulders drooped. “What was that? Coffee pot number five?”
    “Something like that,” I murmured. Actually, it was the seventh, but he didn’t need to know that. I shook glass out of his ruined t-shirt and bit my lip. “You’ve got some glass embedded in your arms, Ethan. I’m going to have to use tweezers.”
    He watched the blood welling up around tiny shards of glass stuck in his skin. “Fine,” he said as I took his hand gently in my own and led him into the bathroom for what had become our all-too familiar ritual. “Caspia,” he said at last, after the de-glassing was nearly complete but before I’d doused him with peroxide.
    “Mmm?” I smiled as softly as I could. He looked like a lost little boy, perched on the edge of the bathtub, surrounded by our brand new, ridiculously overstocked first aid kit.
    “It gets better, doesn’t it?” My eyes drew close together, narrowing down his question. “Being human. It gets easier. It has to, right?”
    I bit back the first answer: that I had been born this way, that I had never known anyone before him who had to learn, that it sure as hell hadn’t gotten easier for me. “I don’t know,” I answered truthfully. I perched on the tub beside him. “I think that depends on the human.” I wrapped my pinky finger around his and bumped his shoulder. “Tell you a secret.” My lips brushed