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A Caress Of Twilight :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 232 из 236I tried to jerk free, turning in my bare feet to order him to let me go, but I slipped on the bloody ground, falling butt first onto the slick grass. My hands came away covered in blood — fresh, crimson blood like rain on the grass that hadn't soaked in yet. My left palm began to itch, then to burn. It was the blood of the Nameless, and it was as poisonous as the rest of it.
I got to my feet, trying to scrape the blood off my hand with my dress, but it didn't help. The burning had sunk into my hand, my skin, and it was flowing through my veins, feeling as if all the blood in my body had turned to molten metal, solid and burning hot, as though my own blood was boiling its way out of my skin.
I shrieked in pain, and Kitto touched me, tried to help. He yelled and let go of me, staggered back. The front of his T-shirt bloomed red, fresh blood. He clawed at his shirt, raised enough for me to see the marks of my nails spilling blood everywhere, worse, so much worse than the original injury.
My cousin Cel was Prince of Old Blood. He could call any injury to life no matter how ancient. But it was only ever as bad as the original hurt. This was something different. Doyle had told me once that I would have a second hand of power, but there was no way of knowing when it would manifest or what it would be. The pain in my own body was receding as Kitto bled. But I didn't want Kitto to bleed. I wanted the Nameless to bleed.
If I had to touch the Nameless for this new hand of power to work, I was going to die, but I was going to try with magic like you'd try with a gun. Shoot from far away before you're forced to shoot up close. And as long as you have the ammunition, keep shooting.
I pointed my left hand toward the creature, palm out, and thought, not the word blood but of blood. I thought about the taste of it, salty, metallic; the feel of it fresh and almost scalding hot in large doses, the way it thickened when it cooled. I thought of the smell of blood — that neck-ruffling scent — and the way enough of it freshly spilled always smelled like meat, like raw hamburger.
I thought of blood and began to walk toward the Nameless.
Chapter 44
I'd taken only a few steps when the pain returned, my blood boiled in my veins, and I stumbled to my knees, hand still out toward the creature — but I was betting that Kitto had stopped bleeding. I screamed and watched one huge eye swivel to look at me, to truly look at me for the first time. The pain clouded my vision and finally stole my voice, my air. I was suffocating on pain. Then it eased, just a bit, then a bit more.
I got to my feet, trying to scrape the blood off my hand with my dress, but it didn't help. The burning had sunk into my hand, my skin, and it was flowing through my veins, feeling as if all the blood in my body had turned to molten metal, solid and burning hot, as though my own blood was boiling its way out of my skin.
I shrieked in pain, and Kitto touched me, tried to help. He yelled and let go of me, staggered back. The front of his T-shirt bloomed red, fresh blood. He clawed at his shirt, raised enough for me to see the marks of my nails spilling blood everywhere, worse, so much worse than the original injury.
My cousin Cel was Prince of Old Blood. He could call any injury to life no matter how ancient. But it was only ever as bad as the original hurt. This was something different. Doyle had told me once that I would have a second hand of power, but there was no way of knowing when it would manifest or what it would be. The pain in my own body was receding as Kitto bled. But I didn't want Kitto to bleed. I wanted the Nameless to bleed.
If I had to touch the Nameless for this new hand of power to work, I was going to die, but I was going to try with magic like you'd try with a gun. Shoot from far away before you're forced to shoot up close. And as long as you have the ammunition, keep shooting.
I pointed my left hand toward the creature, palm out, and thought, not the word blood but of blood. I thought about the taste of it, salty, metallic; the feel of it fresh and almost scalding hot in large doses, the way it thickened when it cooled. I thought of the smell of blood — that neck-ruffling scent — and the way enough of it freshly spilled always smelled like meat, like raw hamburger.
I thought of blood and began to walk toward the Nameless.
Chapter 44
I'd taken only a few steps when the pain returned, my blood boiled in my veins, and I stumbled to my knees, hand still out toward the creature — but I was betting that Kitto had stopped bleeding. I screamed and watched one huge eye swivel to look at me, to truly look at me for the first time. The pain clouded my vision and finally stole my voice, my air. I was suffocating on pain. Then it eased, just a bit, then a bit more.