Origins (A Black Novel, #1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

plural. The same one I always have.”
    “Do you want to talk about it?”
    “Not really,” I reply with a shudder. “I don’t even like to think about it.”
    “Don’t worry, if you choose to stay human the nightmares will fade away.”
    “And what if I don’t?” I scowl. She takes a moment to respond, which automatically makes me imagine the worst scenario- they would not only get worse, but become a reality. “How often do you….feed?” I question, as unease begins to unfurl in the depths of my stomach.
    “Something you will learn in the days to come is that I am not like the others of my kind. I choose to inject myself with blood, rather than consume it, and I only do it when needed, which is about twice a month, sometimes more. It differs for each of us. Some enjoy it more than others, the feeding, hunting….” She trails off, glancing at me as if trying to gauge my reaction before finishing. “….killing.”
    “Why? Why kill if you don’t need to?” What type of person honestly enjoys killing others? Will I become one of them? A psycho vampire wannabe that runs around murdering innocents….
    “It is in our nature. It is hard to resist the bloodlust. It’s much easier to let it consume you,” she states as she turns toward me, her usually bright eyes dark.
    “Why do you do it then? Why do you fight it?” I ask, curious.
    “My mother was in love with a mortal. Don’t get me wrong, she loved my father too, but she wasn’t ‘in love’ with him. She married my dad and stayed with him because she didn’t trust herself with the mortal she fell in love with. She didn’t think she would be able to control herself and was afraid she would kill him. She left him to protect him, the same as your mother did. She wanted him to be safe and happy, to live. My mother gave up her chance at true happiness, true love, to protect a mortal. That made me realize mortals, all mortals, are worth fighting for. I have trained, for years, to resist the bloodlust and while some days it is infinitely harder than others, it is still worth every minute.” I sit, tongue-tied, unable to find the right thing to say. Thankfully, after a few moments, Dr. Thorne fills the silence. “Well, that was a bit heavy, I admit,” she says with a small smile. “Do you have any other questions?”
    “A million,” I answer honestly. “But I think I’ll try to give my mind some time to process what it’s learned before I overload it.”
    “Fair enough,” she responds with a wink.
    The next two hours are spent mostly in silence, save for the few occasions of small talk when we pass by an interesting piece of scenery or landmark and when we stop at a rest stop to freshen up and eat. As we near the coast the fresh tang of salt water wafts into the car, overwhelming all my other senses. I am so giddy with anticipation that I literally have to sit on my hands to keep from bouncing around in the car. We arrive in Camden, Maine a few minutes past nine o’clock.
    My hyperactivity lasts through the entire twenty minute ferry ride, up until the moment my feet hit the solid ground of the island. At least it doesn’t look like a place with an insane asylum…..unless the whole island is some kind of government experiment where they just drop the crazies off to fend for themselves in the wilderness. As soon as the boat captain announces, “Welcome to Black Island,” a bout of nausea threatens to bring me to my knees. What if my mom doesn’t want me? What if she is disappointed?
    “I’ll need ten minutes to refuel then I’ll be ready to head back to the mainland,” the captain says to Dr. Thorne before sauntering off.
    “You’re not staying?” I plead, desperate. I don’t think I can do this.
    “No, Adelin. This is something you must do for yourself, you know that. Besides, I have work and someone will need to keep an eye on your father,” she says with a grin.

    “Don’t you want to see your sister?” I ask, hoping to