Read Online Blood of Retribution by Bonnie Lamer - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Bonnie Lamer
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around its neck. Disturbing.
“Listen to you, Miss High and Mighty. Didn’t you just let loose a crap load of evil into this realm? Are you really in a position to criticize others?”
The stupid thing has a point. I still want to kick him into the forest, though. Sensing that, he takes a couple of steps back. I glare down at him and he makes a strange sound in his throat that I think is a laugh.
Changing the subject, he asks, “What are we doing out here anyway?”
I shrug. “I just wanted to get away from everyone for a little bit.” I leave out the part of being scared the darkness I absorbed may cause me to do things I don’t want to do. Like take a torch to all these trees just to watch them burn. Yeah, things like that.
“Scared you aren’t strong enough to control yourself, huh?”
I glare down at him. “Do you have a death wish?”
He snorts. “I still don’t have a manual, but I’m pretty sure Witches can’t kill their familiars.”
I raise a brow. “What about familiars killing Witches?”
His little shoulders move up and down. “Not sure. Should we give it a try?”
“Go away.”
“Fine.” Turning on his four paws, he ambles away into some brush and burrows inside it. He’s asleep almost instantly.
I’ve always wondered how bullies could do and say things just to hurt others. But right now, I’m pretty sure I could knock an ice cream cone out of a preschoolers hand and laugh when it hits the ground. I feel like I could take a skinny kid’s milk money and spend it on booze and cigarettes. I feel like my conscience is packing up for a long sabbatical in the Himalayas and will be unreachable for the next hundred years or so. So, how do I stop myself from doing the awful things the darkness inside me wants me to do?
A teeny, tiny thought is breaking through the darkness. It’s like a pin prick in my mind. Something about my familiar. Something about other people’s magic not affecting him. The pin prick gets bigger until there’s enough room for the thought to bloom. If he’s not affected, he’s not having these awful, evil thoughts. Right?
“Hey, you,” I call to the brush where the beast went to sleep. “Come here.” Nothing. “I said, come here!” I growl.
A tiny face pokes out of the brush. “Are you talking to me?”
I tilt my head and give him a look that should wilt him. It doesn’t. He just stares at me. Getting angrier by the second, I lasso him with my magic and drag him out of the brush.
“What are you doing, you crazy Witch freak!” he snarls, fighting helplessly against my magic. “Have you gone mad?”
I purse my lips in thought, then say, “I don’t think I have yet, but I’m pretty sure I’m heading there.”
“So you plan to take it out on me?” the beast says breathlessly because he’s still fighting my magic.
“Tempting,” I say, “but no, I’m not. I need you to do something for me.”
His beady little eyes look up at me as his body gives in to being dragged across the forest floor. “If this has anything to do with massaging your feet or bathing you, I’m out.”
I close my eyes as I concentrate on not letting my foot connect with his small body as it so wants to do. “No, I don’t want you to bathe me.” The foot massage thing doesn’t sound half bad, though. “I want you to be my conscience.”
The Tasmanian devil stills. “Your conscience?”
I nod. “That’s what I said.”
“How am I supposed to do that? Bite you on the ankle whenever you’re doing something stupid? Because if that’s the case, I’m going to dull my teeth down to nubs in no time.”
My foot lashes out, but the damn thing is too fast for me. He jumps out of the way with a screech that has me covering my ears. “Will you stop that?” I say when the
“Listen to you, Miss High and Mighty. Didn’t you just let loose a crap load of evil into this realm? Are you really in a position to criticize others?”
The stupid thing has a point. I still want to kick him into the forest, though. Sensing that, he takes a couple of steps back. I glare down at him and he makes a strange sound in his throat that I think is a laugh.
Changing the subject, he asks, “What are we doing out here anyway?”
I shrug. “I just wanted to get away from everyone for a little bit.” I leave out the part of being scared the darkness I absorbed may cause me to do things I don’t want to do. Like take a torch to all these trees just to watch them burn. Yeah, things like that.
“Scared you aren’t strong enough to control yourself, huh?”
I glare down at him. “Do you have a death wish?”
He snorts. “I still don’t have a manual, but I’m pretty sure Witches can’t kill their familiars.”
I raise a brow. “What about familiars killing Witches?”
His little shoulders move up and down. “Not sure. Should we give it a try?”
“Go away.”
“Fine.” Turning on his four paws, he ambles away into some brush and burrows inside it. He’s asleep almost instantly.
I’ve always wondered how bullies could do and say things just to hurt others. But right now, I’m pretty sure I could knock an ice cream cone out of a preschoolers hand and laugh when it hits the ground. I feel like I could take a skinny kid’s milk money and spend it on booze and cigarettes. I feel like my conscience is packing up for a long sabbatical in the Himalayas and will be unreachable for the next hundred years or so. So, how do I stop myself from doing the awful things the darkness inside me wants me to do?
A teeny, tiny thought is breaking through the darkness. It’s like a pin prick in my mind. Something about my familiar. Something about other people’s magic not affecting him. The pin prick gets bigger until there’s enough room for the thought to bloom. If he’s not affected, he’s not having these awful, evil thoughts. Right?
“Hey, you,” I call to the brush where the beast went to sleep. “Come here.” Nothing. “I said, come here!” I growl.
A tiny face pokes out of the brush. “Are you talking to me?”
I tilt my head and give him a look that should wilt him. It doesn’t. He just stares at me. Getting angrier by the second, I lasso him with my magic and drag him out of the brush.
“What are you doing, you crazy Witch freak!” he snarls, fighting helplessly against my magic. “Have you gone mad?”
I purse my lips in thought, then say, “I don’t think I have yet, but I’m pretty sure I’m heading there.”
“So you plan to take it out on me?” the beast says breathlessly because he’s still fighting my magic.
“Tempting,” I say, “but no, I’m not. I need you to do something for me.”
His beady little eyes look up at me as his body gives in to being dragged across the forest floor. “If this has anything to do with massaging your feet or bathing you, I’m out.”
I close my eyes as I concentrate on not letting my foot connect with his small body as it so wants to do. “No, I don’t want you to bathe me.” The foot massage thing doesn’t sound half bad, though. “I want you to be my conscience.”
The Tasmanian devil stills. “Your conscience?”
I nod. “That’s what I said.”
“How am I supposed to do that? Bite you on the ankle whenever you’re doing something stupid? Because if that’s the case, I’m going to dull my teeth down to nubs in no time.”
My foot lashes out, but the damn thing is too fast for me. He jumps out of the way with a screech that has me covering my ears. “Will you stop that?” I say when the
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