Salvation's Kiss (Tales Of Mython Book 1) by Kathryn Jayne (old books to read .TXT) 📗

embankment. The driver had sped away, not caring for the devastation he had left in his wake. Will knew she still had nightmares, although not as frequently as before. She had survived only with minor scratches caused by the debris from the initial collision, and despite her phobia of hospitals had stayed by her parents’ bedside, but after weeks of false hope, they had both succumbed to their injuries. The doctors had said the burns had been too severe for beings of their nature to survive. The accident had been a tragedy, but, if he were honest with himself, it had also been the excuse he had needed to insert himself into her life. They shared a pain, one of loss.

His level of understanding had been something neither Jack nor Tess could offer, despite their age-old friendship. He knew she still blamed herself, and had suffered with survivor’s guilt for years. It was their common ground, the one thing they talked about alone. Their secret. This time every year, she would surround herself with those she loved and, in her own way, both celebrate and mourn the lives of those she had lost. It was a night she never wanted to spend alone, and one he could never imagine not been a part of. There was nothing that could have kept him away, except for this.

Tonight, as much as he wanted to join in, to find joy within her presence, he couldn’t. He was in trouble, and the less time he spent in their company at the moment, the better. Slowly, he had been pulling away, watching his friends from afar, knowing the ones he owed money to watched him for signs of any weakness they could exploit. He had not quite scraped together enough for the payment this month, and now he had to repay them in other ways.

Often vampires were known to bleed someone owing such a small amount. He was short of less than the price of a meal, but because he had been using the Taphouse to supplement the payments, he was, literally, tapped-out, a phrase they assigned to regular donors who couldn’t safely give again until their blood count rose. Given his abilities, he replenished quicker than most, but the test still showed he was not suitable. So he had to do something far more excessive. It was his first warning. If he defaulted again, things would only escalate and people he loved could be hurt.

His entire body trembled as he held the coarse metal key in his grasp. It still showed the rough edges from the less than perfect mould it had been cast from. Not for the first time, he was grateful for the glamour charm. If the apparently disabled cameras did detect him sneaking into the faculty head’s office, they would find no trace of the person existing before tonight.

The metal rattled from the force of his trembling fingers as he inserted the key into the lock, turning it with more ease than expected. Quietly, he crept to the desk, his heart pounding as he fumbled through the room from memory. The academy was submerged in darkness, only the occasional flicker of torches from the outside patrols breaking the unnerving blanket. He ducked behind the desk, expecting, like happened in so many movies, for a guard to happen past the door, shine the torch within and investigate further. It didn’t happen. He connected the small device the vampires had given him to the faculty data storage device. The tiny, blinking, red light was almost undetectable, yet to him it felt like a beacon announcing his presence.

Time seemed to stretch on endlessly and he focused on his surroundings in an attempt to distract himself. The sickly odour of smoothies brought his focus to the small bin that hadn’t yet been emptied, another complication he hoped had been taken into account. When the blinking light finally turned green, he snatched the magnetic device away, securing the door behind him, leaving no trace he was ever there. Or at least he hoped this was true.

He sped to the agreed meeting point, shedding his glamour as he pulled off the black sweatshirt. Any who saw his change would have thought it nothing more than a trick of the light; after all, a face and hair colour didn’t change when someone pulled a jumper over their head.

The vampires had chosen his regular Taphouse near the cinema for the exchange. He opted to donate here because it was one of the calmer locations he had visited. The interior was maintained to a high standard. Low level lighting, easy on the eyes, flickered almost like candlelight from large chandeliers and mounted sconces. The aroma of delicious, if not slightly undercooked, meats wafted around with the mingling of the patrons. Food was served here from opening until closing, with their more favoured vices available to order. The menu changed daily depending on shipments and who came in to donate. Everything from blood to magical essence could be consumed here, but such treats were handled solely as a dessert.

The night was young, and the Taphouse had only been open for around an hour, meaning the customers were few in number. Everyone knew the interesting desserts never arrived until after ten. His eyes wandered the expensive wooden furniture, padded with luxurious fabrics and cushions. Seeing an open booth far from the regular path of foot traffic, he slid in, placing a card upon the table as he had been instructed. Apparently, this was to ensure his safety until Devon arrived. A human this side of the Taphouse was usually something of a hustler, seeking to peddle their wares without the safety and commission of the Taphouse.

As he sat waiting, he saw a familiar black car pull alongside the cinema’s exit. His skin bristled as Conrad emerged, carrying Ashley in his arms. Something was wrong. For the last few years, he knew she had been suffering from dizzy spells and fainting, but never