Blood Struck Read Online Free PDF

kneecaps.
    Kristos stuck his head out the driver’s window and shouted, “Get in.”
    One hand clamped on my shoulder, which was slick with blood, I hurried to the passenger door. He’d already opened it for me and was backing out of the alley before my butt hit the seat.
    Slamming the door shut with my good hand, I fastened my seat belt and tried to remember how to breathe.
    “Where did you get a car so fast?” I asked as we zoomed down the streets of New York so quickly the city flew by in smears of neon lights.
    “I stole it.”
    I slumped in my seat with a smile of grim humor. I’d gone from courtesan college girl to a starring role in a real life rendition of Grand Theft Auto. All that was missing were the cops.
    Kristos pulled out a cell phone and dialed with quick efficiency. In a clipped voice, he said, “I need a sweep of the penthouse and a clean-up crew at the restaurant. No humans on this one, I want kin we can trust.” Not interested in a long conversation, he hung up abruptly.
    “You think someone set you up?” I asked, horrified.
    He shrugged. “Maybe.”
    “But why?”
    He gave me a ‘you should know the answer to that’ look. “I’m rich. I’m powerful. I have enemies.”
    “If they wanted you, why would they keep shooting at me?”
    “Because it might hurt me.” He grimaced. “I should not have left you like that, but I really did think they would stop shooting once I was gone.”
    I frowned at him, trying to understand a world where hurting me was just a means to an end. We rolled to a stop at a red light and Kristos turned in his seat to face me. Apparently he didn’t like what he saw, because he uttered a soft expletive and began taking off his shirt.
    “You’re hurt.”
    “Well, yeah, bullets will do that,“ I said, the stress of the evening’s events making me flippant.
    “Take this.” He tossed his shirt to me, the muscles of his now bare torso flexing smoothly as he did so.
    “And do what?” I fingered the fabric and inhaled the scent of him clinging to it. He smelled like cologne and wine and there was a smoky undertone that reminded me of a cigar.
    “Staunch the blood.”
    “I’m not bleeding that much,” I said.
    “I won’t take no for an answer. You’re white as a ghost. You need to stop the bleeding.” He forced the shirt into my hand and then pressed it onto my shoulder.
    I rolled my eyes, but obediently dabbed my shoulder with his shirt. More blood than I realized stained the white fabric. Maybe Kristos had been right. Maybe you’re going into shock, a small voice said in my head. I told it to shut-up and applied pressure to my shoulder.
    When blood trickled down my face and into my mouth, I just giggled. Kristos should be drinking it, not me.
    “What’s so funny?” Kristos asked.
    I didn’t respond because my breathing was too fast and yet I couldn’t get enough air.
    He gave me a quick glance and started when he saw me. “Oh, your face. Myra, I am so sorry. We’ll get a doctor just as soon as we’re someplace safe.” He put a hand on my neck and pushed me down. “Lean forward and put your head between your knees. That should help with the breathing at least.”
    I did as he requested, staying like that the rest of the drive. There was another rush of blood from the cuts on my head, but then it slowed down. The position made my world small and dark. I could pretend I was safe and my labored breathing eased somewhat.
    A few minutes later, Kristos stopped the car and turned off the engine. “We’re here. Can you walk to the elevator?”
    I sat up, blinking as all the blood that had pooled in my head rushed out of my brain. Another gush of blood dripped down the side of my face and stained my chest. I wiped away what I could and took in our surroundings. We were in an underground garage, parked in the spot right next to the elevator. A small security detail waited for us. I could tell they were with us and not against us because they waved to