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

gift had manifested in himself, covertly charging for small healings to desperate parties. He knew better than to use his own name, especially when his main clients were seeking the removal of tell-tale signs of infidelity. His name and services were passed along through discreet whispers alone.

These services, along with blood-letting at the local Taphouse, were the only way he could afford to pay to ensure his gran’s safety, but the payments were becoming draining and, if his luck didn’t change, next month he would fall short. His last blood-letting had flagged him as Tapped-out, meaning he would not be allowed to donate any more blood until his count had increased and, as it was the main source of his income, it left him in a dire situation.

He passed a hand through his golden hair, his honey-coloured eyes seeking out someone who would pay for his skills. It was then he spotted her. The young woman wearing the blue scarf. The way her hand kept adjusting it sung of her secret, and if the sheepish look of the young man sitting opposite her was anything to go by, he was the one responsible. She wound her fingers in her boyfriend’s hand, shrinking away when he moved in for a kiss. Again adjusting the scarf. He was willing to bet it hid a mark, and their removal was a speciality of his. Logging onto the school profile, he accessed his secondary account, sending her a quick student message about the services he offered. The way she glanced around on reading it suggested her interest and, sure enough, seconds later the arrangements were made and she was excusing herself to go to the bathroom.

Keeping his abilities a secret was difficult, although it was about to become easier. His last client had not been seeking his services, but when he laid eyes upon her battered figure as she nursed a drink in the coffee house, he knew he needed to help her. She wouldn’t speak of how she came to be injured, although, with two broken ribs, a fractured wrist, bruising up the length of her forearm, and a black eye, he had drawn his own conclusions.

He had known she wouldn’t be able to pay for his services even before he reached out to touch her moth-eaten cardigan. As he stood to leave, sliding over a note with the address of a local coven who would take her in and help her, she grasped his hand, pressing a metal bracelet into it. He had accepted it gratefully, knowing it was likely the only thing of value she had, and to refuse it would be to insult her pride.

He didn’t realise the true value of what she had given him. When he placed it on his wrist, its magic snaked through his body, seeking permission to connect with his own energy. Granting it, he found a mental image appearing in his mind, and realised she had given him a glamour charm, an item that allowed someone to change their appearance to whatever degree they desired. This enchantment had but a single memory, so he created his new self with care, relieved to find a way to be more open about his abilities without it being linked back to his family. He had his own future in mind, and reigniting the Huston healers was not on his agenda.

Emily hurried down the deserted road. She was cold, wet, and work had been a nightmare, an endless string of calls and complaints that had only caused the migraine she had been nursing all day to worsen. She hadn’t felt quite right since she had visited the Taphouse last night. It had been a dare, a group of young women out for a little adventure and danger, while knowing they were perfectly safe. The fact they had been paid for their donations had been a bonus, as it allowed them to continue their night of drinking away the tension of the day.

She had cried off tonight’s birthday party drinkathon. As the newest of the group, she was able to excuse herself with very little objection, especially since the pain in her head had been escalating throughout the day. At one point, the throbbing in her temples had been so bad she had almost requested to go home sick, but doing so would only have increased the burden on her office friends.

All she wanted to do was get home and slip into the bath while her mum cooked her a light snack. Leaning against the wall, she massaged her temples, the deep, resounding beat of her heart almost akin to footsteps. Squeezing her eyes closed, she pinched the bridge of her nose, grateful for the wall’s support as her shoulder rested against it. The moment it passed, she would call her mum and see if she could pick her up.

She was so focused on the pain, on remaining upright, she didn’t notice the dark figure emerging from the shadows. Turning, determined to press on, she tried to scream as a coarse hand reached out to grab her. The pain behind her eyes exploded as her legs gave beneath her. Before she could even fight, her awareness faded into darkness.

Chapter 2

Cryptobiology class had a scarce attendance on a Wednesday. Such was often the case, as many of the students optioning this as part of their studies found this was the only class of the day, and often just borrowed the dictations from someone in attendance. Many took this class to fill out a resume aimed towards research and development rather than a medical career.

Everybody knew vampires made the best surgeons, due to their aptitude for the body’s systems, being able to anticipate the chance of bleeds and complications, and their speed. It was for this reason the profession was being dominated by them. Whereas shifters and their sensitive noses were able to find trace changes in body chemicals and the scents accompanying ailments, which made them