In Blood We Trust Read Online Free PDF Page A

something to do with the increased sense of power I had?
    The meanness?
    Blood still high, I tried to control what was going through my head, but my thoughts wouldn’t mellow. In fact, they went in the direction I’d cut them off at before.
    Blood.
    Hurt.
    A bite that had changed my life forever . . .
    Under the thrall of those unforgiving memories, I entered the cave, making my way through the small rooms, back toward the space where we’d erected a panel of glass that served as 562’s shelter for the time being, until we got round to piling rocks in front of it. I hadn’t wanted to fully put 562 away yet, though. Our origin wasn’t dead.
    She/he was only sort of . . . sleeping. That’s the only way I can say it. Mind broken, body stilled. By having 562 conscious and alive, we believed that our origin kept us blood monsters in a preternatural state. But that might have only been faith on our part, because we weren’t even sure if 562’s death would have erased all our powers and returned us to other, more humanlike forms.
    We weren’t even sure if 562 could die.
    When I walked into the coffin room, I stopped in my tracks, totally unprepared for what I found.
    Yes, there was 562 in back of the glass partition, all right—and her/his space was surrounded by what looked to be more offerings than me or any other Badlander had left, just as parting gifts, really. Behind that glass, she/he was in the regular, nonshift form: long silver hair hiding shattered red eyes and a face brushed with glinting down and a small black nose. Because there hadn’t been another full moon since the last time 562 had gone lunar, we weren’t certain whether our origin would be turning back into the fourarmed beast shape that my own body imitated on a smaller scale. We weren’t even sure a full moon had enough power to control 562’s vegetative body.
    But the community would sure be ready twelve nights from now, just in case.
    We’d posted three older vampire guards in front of 562 as another “just in case” during the nights, using my fellow were-creatures Hana and Pucci by day while the vamps slept. But the vampires weren’t what had brought me to a standstill.
    It was their positioning.
    All three were facing 562, as if they were statue copies of our origin; their legs were crossed in the same lotus position as sheathed silver swords rested on their laps, and their gazes were fixed on our relic with rapt, eerie attention.
    They might have heard me enter, but they didn’t do anything about it. They just kept their hands on their knees as they stared.
    I heard a sound to my left, and I hunched, ready to be set upon. Then I realized that it was only Chaplin.
    With the way he slunk toward me, my heart did a dip. He had that cautious, sad look in his big dark eyes, his head down. Even his brown fur, which had once seemed so shiny, looked duller.
    I’d never seen him like this—not even when I’d been doing all that killing out in the Badlands. But he’d had faith in my improvement back then—and he’d also thought I could be controlled.
    Out of habit, I got down on one knee, holding out my hand to him. He stopped short of it, and I battled a clenching in my chest.
    An awkward moment passed before I asked, “Why’re you here?”
    With one glance at 562, Chaplin provided me with an answer.
    He and my origin had never gotten along. 562 had attacked Chaplin once, and I knew that my dog often kept his distance from 562. Did he think he was protecting the community by watching over the origin?
    Chaplin sniffed in my direction, as if he could smell Gabriel all over me. Whether Gabriel even had a scent didn’t seem to matter, since an Intel Dog had powers of detection that went beyond even those of a were-creature in animal form. In this human shape, I didn’t have the benefit of any preter powers, so I was at a loss.
    My dog sat on his