Read Online Obsessed (Book #12 in the Vampire Journals) by Morgan Rice - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Morgan Rice
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steady trickle of water coming from far away.
A sensation
inside Lore told him that Scarlet and Sage were not to be found. He pushed it
away and gestured for the Immortalists to enter the cave.
“Search
everywhere,” he said, feeling a wave of desperation inside his gullet. “Do not
stop until you find the girl and my cousin.”
The small army
began filing in, weaving past the stalactites that hung from the ceilings. The
rock face was damp and slippery underfoot.
Lore shivered as
he watched them go. It was cold in the caves and there was an eerie vibe, like
the very stone held secrets. Lore started when Octal came up beside him. The
burn on his face looked angry, the skin beneath puckered. The sight of it
turned Lore’s stomach.
“You lead them
well,” Octal said, his transparent eyes locked on Lore’s.
Lore turned his
face away and trained his gaze ahead, squinting through the gloom at the
milling figures.
“I lead them
because someone must,” Lore replied, his comment slightly barbed.
“You’re
disappointed in my leadership?” Octal asked.
Finally, Lore
willed himself to look at him.
“You let them
get away,” he said, his voice cold and curt. “Sage and Scarlet. We had them in
our midst. We had them right where we needed them. And you let them get away.”
Octal loomed
down over Lore, his presence imposing.
“What is meant
to be will be, Lore,” he said, calmly. “It is written in the stars.”
Lore said
nothing. He turned his gaze away again and peered back out at the returning
Immortalists.
“There’s nobody
here,” one of the men said, drawing up in front of Octal and Lore.
Lore had known
it the second he’d stepped foot in the cave. It had been too silent, as silent
as death.
In that moment,
Lore’s frustration reached boiling point. He pummeled his fist against the rock
face. In his anger he was ready to turn on his leader and blame him publicly
for letting Sage slip away. But then another voice broke out, stopping him in
his tracks.
“Wait!” the
voice cried.
Lore looked
behind him, sucking the blood from his bruised fist, and saw a raven-haired
woman with glittering blue eyes. She was beautiful, with the palest skin Lore
had ever seen.
“Look here,” she
said, pointing to the floor.
She was
addressing her words directly to him, not to Octal, and so Lore obeyed. He
frowned and walked over to the woman. He looked at what she was indicating to
him. It was a patch of wet rock and some droplets of blood.
“What is that?”
he muttered beneath his breath.
Lore crouched
down and craned his head to examine the strange image from a different angle.
All at once, the sight of an arrow of blood piercing a heart of tears
materialized before his eyes.
He darted up to
his feet.
“They were here,”
he said, addressing the crowd behind him.
The raven-haired
girl looked up at him from her crouched position.
“They must have
escaped,” she said, touching her fingers lightly to the blood splatters. “But
only just. The blood is still warm.”
She held her
hand up to Lore, as though inviting him to feel for himself. He gazed at her
white skin and the crimson red staining her finger tips. He felt a strange
desire to reach out and caress her hand with his. But he fought the feeling
away and, instead of touching the blood, he grasped her hand in his and hauled
her to her feet beside him.
The woman looked
a little flushed, almost as though embarrassed by the way she had invited him
to touch her. Lore didn’t look at her as he spoke.
“Sage is still
alive,” he said.
Octal paced over
and placed a hand firmly on Lore’s shoulder.
“He’s your
cousin,” he said. “You will be able to sense him.”
“Not across the
water,” Lore replied quickly.
The water acted
as a barrier, blocking one being from sensing another. It was why they built
this place on an island in the first place.
But no sooner
had the words left Lore’s lips than another thought struck him.
“Of
A sensation
inside Lore told him that Scarlet and Sage were not to be found. He pushed it
away and gestured for the Immortalists to enter the cave.
“Search
everywhere,” he said, feeling a wave of desperation inside his gullet. “Do not
stop until you find the girl and my cousin.”
The small army
began filing in, weaving past the stalactites that hung from the ceilings. The
rock face was damp and slippery underfoot.
Lore shivered as
he watched them go. It was cold in the caves and there was an eerie vibe, like
the very stone held secrets. Lore started when Octal came up beside him. The
burn on his face looked angry, the skin beneath puckered. The sight of it
turned Lore’s stomach.
“You lead them
well,” Octal said, his transparent eyes locked on Lore’s.
Lore turned his
face away and trained his gaze ahead, squinting through the gloom at the
milling figures.
“I lead them
because someone must,” Lore replied, his comment slightly barbed.
“You’re
disappointed in my leadership?” Octal asked.
Finally, Lore
willed himself to look at him.
“You let them
get away,” he said, his voice cold and curt. “Sage and Scarlet. We had them in
our midst. We had them right where we needed them. And you let them get away.”
Octal loomed
down over Lore, his presence imposing.
“What is meant
to be will be, Lore,” he said, calmly. “It is written in the stars.”
Lore said
nothing. He turned his gaze away again and peered back out at the returning
Immortalists.
“There’s nobody
here,” one of the men said, drawing up in front of Octal and Lore.
Lore had known
it the second he’d stepped foot in the cave. It had been too silent, as silent
as death.
In that moment,
Lore’s frustration reached boiling point. He pummeled his fist against the rock
face. In his anger he was ready to turn on his leader and blame him publicly
for letting Sage slip away. But then another voice broke out, stopping him in
his tracks.
“Wait!” the
voice cried.
Lore looked
behind him, sucking the blood from his bruised fist, and saw a raven-haired
woman with glittering blue eyes. She was beautiful, with the palest skin Lore
had ever seen.
“Look here,” she
said, pointing to the floor.
She was
addressing her words directly to him, not to Octal, and so Lore obeyed. He
frowned and walked over to the woman. He looked at what she was indicating to
him. It was a patch of wet rock and some droplets of blood.
“What is that?”
he muttered beneath his breath.
Lore crouched
down and craned his head to examine the strange image from a different angle.
All at once, the sight of an arrow of blood piercing a heart of tears
materialized before his eyes.
He darted up to
his feet.
“They were here,”
he said, addressing the crowd behind him.
The raven-haired
girl looked up at him from her crouched position.
“They must have
escaped,” she said, touching her fingers lightly to the blood splatters. “But
only just. The blood is still warm.”
She held her
hand up to Lore, as though inviting him to feel for himself. He gazed at her
white skin and the crimson red staining her finger tips. He felt a strange
desire to reach out and caress her hand with his. But he fought the feeling
away and, instead of touching the blood, he grasped her hand in his and hauled
her to her feet beside him.
The woman looked
a little flushed, almost as though embarrassed by the way she had invited him
to touch her. Lore didn’t look at her as he spoke.
“Sage is still
alive,” he said.
Octal paced over
and placed a hand firmly on Lore’s shoulder.
“He’s your
cousin,” he said. “You will be able to sense him.”
“Not across the
water,” Lore replied quickly.
The water acted
as a barrier, blocking one being from sensing another. It was why they built
this place on an island in the first place.
But no sooner
had the words left Lore’s lips than another thought struck him.
“Of
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