Blue, Lora Carlson [summer reading list .txt] 📗
- Author: Lora Carlson
Book online «Blue, Lora Carlson [summer reading list .txt] 📗». Author Lora Carlson
“Trust me.”
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The phrase stops my heart. Trust him? He’s a witch. Witches are cannibals. They torture and eat humans, unless they convert one. But only men can become Witches, so I know I’m screwed. I push myself away from him with my feet. His eyes darken slightly, so I stop moving. I don’t want to do a single thing to set him off. He could easily kill me. He moves towards me and I reflexively tense up. He slowly raises his hands in surrender.
“How?” I whisper. Witches are like Banshees, they lose all human attributes and just follow animal instinct. He shouldn’t be acting this... human. That is scarier than him acting like a normal Witch. He lowers his hands and gestures to the woods behind me. I furrow my eyebrows. Does he want me to run? He nods. I slowly stand up, testing him. After a few seconds he stands up as well. He is easily six feet tall, with wide shoulders and muscle. Lots of it. Who is he?
“Wesley. Now go.” He says hushed, but his eyes smile. I quickly turn around and start running. I look behind me once to see Wesley salute, then head down the hill towards the camp. I turn back around and run for my life.
How? How is Wesley that human? Why did he let me go? Why did he kiss my head? This is all so confusing. Witches are usually brutal and unforgiving. Plus he spoke to me. Coherently. And not in Witch Speak. I smell smoke again. I’m miles away from Wesley now. I’ve been traveling for hours. There’s barely any light in the sky. I move even more cautiously towards this smoke. I come to the edge of a small cliff. In the clearing below is a medium sized camp, obviously permanent for now. The overgrown city is only a few miles away from the camp. I can see the outline of some of the taller buildings. I look back at the camp. I see a few people here and there, none of them with marks. Survivors. I sniff, smelling smoke through my blood clogged nose. I tenderly touch my face, trying to find injuries. I must have a black eye. My lip is swollen and scabbed up a bit. I should go down there and get help. But... what if they don’t trust me? It’s happened before and I ended up worse than I am now. But I need help. I’m almost out of food. It’s pitch black now. I’ll wait until morning, I’ll seem less threatening that way.
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