The Blood Keeper (The Blood Journals) Read Online Free PDF

confirm or deny what I thought I’d seen. Now that I was home in the backyard, it wavered in my memory, like my brain was trying to make sense of it and the only way was to pretend it hadn’t happened.
    I focused on my girls again. They were sisters, and just over a year old. Aaron and I had picked them out from a litter in Tonganoxie and trained them for weeks.
So you’ll have them to keep you out of trouble when I’m gone
, he’d said. Of course, he’d meant gone away to school. Mom had been horrified at the thought of two giant dogs dragging mud through her living room, and I’d spent all my money from last summer to buy up enough wood for the kennel. Building it had kept me occupied for the first week after the funeral. That and Googling what the restrictions were for moving dogs to Australia.
    I dropped to my knees and the girls came immediately. Val whined and Havoc snuffled at my ear. I wrapped an arm around each of their necks and buried my face against Havoc’s smelly ruff. I thought of the mud thing throwing itself at her, of the terror ripping through me as I leapt. Of slamming into it, of its taste in my mouth, choking my throat. Of that girl holdingthe heart in her hand, and the salt falling like diamonds, making the monster crumble.
    I tasted blood on my tongue and spat into the grass.
    It hadn’t been real. It couldn’t have been. I’d been waterlogged from soaking in the lake. This was some weird post-traumatic thing, because of Holly almost dying out there.
    But compared to what was coming this afternoon, I almost preferred a monster.

MAB
    It was warm under all the trees, despite the shade, as I made my way along the unpaved road that wound up the hill to the Pink House. The crows hopped from branch to branch, or glided silently over my head. I kept my feet moving steadily along one of the tire tracks that cut through the thick mud. My boots squelched, and the slow pace and difficulty sucking each foot out of the mud kept me focused. All I wanted to do was strip down, climb into the tub, and fall asleep in a hot, bubbly bath.
    I thought of Will’s face, all angles and surprise, as he pinned the runaway doll down. It was such fortune that he’d been there, to catch the curse before it trailed too far, or too near civilization. I hadn’t expected it to be such a risk to summon up that spirit from his prison of roses. He—it—had been stronger than I anticipated, and the hunger to understand why and how and when he’d been planted in the rose roots gnawed more sharply than ever at my ribs. But now I’d never know! The creature was dead, released from the roses by possessing my doll, and torn from that when Will pulled out the antler holding its heart in place.
    When I was rested, I’d have to go back and gather as much of the wax and ingredients as I could, to bring them home and experiment with the remains. Perhaps some would be useful in other avenues, or at least for warding lines to scare the rabbits away.
    Only a few yards from the crown of our hill, I stepped off the road and closed my eyes.
    The forest sang with deep magic, hidden just under the green. So it was because we lived and worked here: blood witches imbuing the earth with our power, and in turn drawing out the natural magic in the world in a constant recycling of energy. For a hundred years the Deacon had used this place to grow strong, to hold a stable space for any who needed our magical aid. And it showed through the magic in the trees.
    Holding out my hands, I walked slowly on. Orange sun-spots and cool blue shade flickered in the darkness behind my eyelids, but I could see well enough with my fingers. I reached out, my hands brushing against leaves. Because I was the Deacon, every caress, each glancing touch, drew magic. My skin drank up all the forest offered. It skimmed up my wrists and arms to coil in my chest. Gentle, sucking power, familiar and beloved.
    The tiny cuts on my arms and hands knitted back together under