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

If he had realised sooner what it was trying to tell him, perhaps he could have warned her… changed the future. He flicked through the many images, returning to the sketch of the kitchen, his finger tapping on the page as he wondered exactly what he could say to Ashley. She knew better than to open her door to strangers, so perhaps he was seeing it wrong, perhaps it was showing him a friend coming to visit. But if that were the case, he was unsure why looking at it made him feel so uneasy. Next time he saw her, he would speak with her, although he had no idea exactly what to say.

Will sat in the small waiting room at the Taphouse. Tonight was unusually busy. There were two others who had arrived before him, and a few younger teens, smelling of alcohol, had stumbled in after he had taken his seat. He would never dream of coming here without his faculties in check, but apparently they had special codes for donors whose blood contained additional substances. He eyed the people before him, wondering if he had seen them here before, nodding his head politely when they looked in his direction.

“Liam7, we’re ready for your screening,” called Whitney’s familiar voice from the door. As her gaze fell upon him, her smile seemed to brighten and she raised her hand, beckoning him through. “Take a seat. You know the drill, I have to make sure you’re healthy.”

Pushing a hand through his tousled hair, he took a seat in the cushioned leather chair inside the booth and produced his index finger, flinching when the small pin pieced his flesh.

“Let’s see.” A drop of blood pooled from the pinprick on his finger before being absorbed into the tab attached to the handheld device. “Hmm, count’s good,” She glanced up at him with an unusual expression. “I didn’t think you’d be donor-ready for a few weeks yet. Okay, let me just remove the Tapped-out status.” She glanced up again. “You know, your recovery skills are remark—” She stopped abruptly, looking at the device in her hand. Removing the tab, she placed a clean one in, repeating the drop test. “Huh.”

“What is it?” Will stiffened as her eyebrows furrowed.

“MA+MI74. I don’t know what your new regime is but I’ve not seen a blood purity this high for a long time.”

Will looked up, his own expression mirroring her disbelief. Since he had first started letting here, he had been a consistent sixty, so to have a reading of seventy-four seemed unbelievable. It was no wonder she had rerun the test.

“If you want to continue with the donation, you’ll be in a different banding than normal.” She checked her device again, reading the information from her screen. “Let’s see. For this, you are entitled to a twenty-five percent share of sales, but the banding is premium. If I list you, you’re likely to be tapped-out by the night’s finish unless you set a limit. Payment will have to be made via a transfer.”

“Really? I thought you only did transfers for amounts exceeding—”

“That’s correct.” She nodded. Her hand traced down his arm as his mouth hung open for a minute while he tried to find the right words.

“I think I need to sit down,” he gasped.

“You are sitting.” Whitney’s laughter was like the chiming of a fine bell, delicate and musical. Its harmonious sound seemed to return him to his senses and he straightened in his seat. “So, shall I list you? If you get Tapped-out in a single night, you’re going to feel rotten. I could still put a limit on, you know, to make sure you stop before you get the shakes.”

He watched the young woman’s finger trace across the small spot of blood from his finger, her own eyes igniting as it touched her tongue. He knew she was a preternatural; after all, it had been Whitney herself who had first suggested the sampling of other preternatural blood in order to gain a temporary stat boon. She had worked here for a while now, and since she always found time to talk to him, she knew exactly why he was doing this, and her advice had helped to raise his figures from fifty-eight into the next banding bracket, meaning he took home a slightly higher percentage of sales.

“Not tonight, I really need the money.”

“Is Devon’s clan still hassling you for protection money?” Whitney stroked his arm gently before giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

“I couldn’t let things carry on. It would have destroyed Gran to lose the shop. She thinks of it as the last piece of my dad.”

“I’m pretty sure she’d be more hurt to lose you. Just be careful, okay?” She held his gaze for a moment, almost as if she wanted to say something more but then thought better of it. Her vision returned to the device in her hand. “You’re about to go live, you may want to get comfortable. Have you linked to our system?” she questioned, pulling on her gloves and breaking open a container filled with syphons. He nodded. “Great. Lean back, enjoy some movies or whatever takes your fancy. Tonight, all entertainment is on the house.”

“Seriously?” he questioned incredulously, straightening as the first syphon was placed on his skin. “Everything is free for purity of seventy and above. It’s an incentive to come back.”

By the time she was finished, five of the little creatures lined his left arm and were already swelling with his blood. Each one would consume 7.5 mls—the measure of a tablespoon—then disengage to fall into the tray that slotted just underneath the cushioned area of the specially designed armrest. As the bite wound was still open, a designated server would be on hand to attach another to the same position. This way, the donors would only suffer minor markings, which healed into small silver scars that eventually faded with time.

Whitney had been serious when she had advised he would garner