Bloodline Diplomacy: A Young Adult Urban Fantasy Academy Novel (Bloodline Academy Book 3) by Lan Chan (best short novels .txt) 📕

you had a bit of a shock,” she said. Understatement of the century. The smart quip fizzled on my tongue. Goodness. I didn’t even have the energy to snark. Somebody call an ambulance.

“Did you know?” I asked when I could find my voice again. She knew exactly what I was referring to.

“We don’t have the luxury of being merciful,” she said.

“You’re sacrificing supernaturals. It’s called murder.”

She was quiet for a moment. I imagined she was trying to find some way to placate me. “Imagine the position we’re in that we would go to these lengths to protect ourselves.”

“This isn’t about protection. The supernaturals aren’t hurting you. Were you the ones behind the recent attack on Bloodline?”

She frowned. “No, of course not. And just give it time. You’ll understand eventually.”

“And if I don’t?”

“You will.”

“Have you even given them a chance?”

“We shouldn’t need to.” I glanced up at her strained words to find her mouth pressed into a thin line. “They shouldn’t be here.” It was like listening to a broken record. They just couldn’t get over the fall of the dimension barriers. It wasn’t as though she was even born when it happened. Then again, maybe that was part of the problem. Many of the supernaturals had lived through the origin of the current arrangements. They would live through whatever else happened. We humans would grow frail and die in what they considered a mere heartbeat.

“I know right now it feels like everything is on its head,” Samantha said. “Give us a chance to show you why things need to be this way.”

All I could think of was the demon in its cage. My mind kept forcing me to replace the murdered supernaturals with images of Charles and Max. Of Diana and Roland being fed to it for the purpose of harvesting its poison. I retracted my hands into my lap and took a wet breath.

“Alessia. What you did...”

Seriously? Was she going to question me about this right now? “I don’t know what it was. I just reacted.”

She was quiet for a beat. “That storm wasn’t natural. You see now why we’re concerned? That kind of pinpointed destruction shouldn’t be possible. The Earth is completely out of balance.” She made to move towards me but I turned my head away. Instead, she crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m sorry you had to find out that way. We honestly wouldn’t resort to such methods if we had a choice. There are so very few of us and our powers are finite. If it helps at all, we’re told those who are sacrificed are the ones who are evil.”

I didn’t really trust her judgement on what was evil. There was plenty of that going around. But I doubted she would listen to reason on this point. I’d seen enough from Ashton on this trip to understand the depths of their fear. If I hadn’t been recruited into Bloodline, if I hadn’t taken such a massive dose of Arcana fruit, I would probably be all out trying to find any way to beat them back too.

“Get some rest,” Samantha said. After she left I didn’t move an inch.

When Rachel tentatively opened our door, I was still just sitting there staring. She glanced surreptitiously at me. I wouldn’t meet her gaze.

Rachel stepped towards her closet. For somebody who didn’t appear that into fashion, her closet was a white-painted monstrosity. It was only when she flung one side open that I saw it was jammed with all manner of random things. Most of it was weaponry. She had a crossbow hanging in there. On the top shelf was a row of liquor bottles. She grabbed a clear bottle with a red label, stalked over to me, and shoved the bottle into my hands.

“Take a drink,” she said.

I let the bottle topple to the mattress. Too many years in close proximity to alcohol had turned me off it completely. Some of my early foster parents had been big fans. Weekend nights were my most hated while I lived on the streets. The city was so clogged with idiots who were off their faces. More than once I’d had half-full liquor bottles thrown at me. The resulting smell made me instinctively shudder. One Christmas, Randall had convinced me drinking would make me feel better. It did at first. Until it didn’t and I ended up throwing my guts up in an alleyway behind a big department store.

Rachel appeared in front of me. She unscrewed the lid and pressed the bottle into my hands. “You’re in some serious shock,” she said. “Take a drink.”

I unlatched my fingers. “You’re pushing liquor onto a minor...” And then it hit me. What did that matter? What did any of this matter? There were demons out there! It didn’t matter if I drank the whole bottle. It didn’t matter if I drank all the bottles.

It was funny how one day could change things. I stared at the red label with the white trim. With the cap unscrewed, the smell of the vodka permeated the air. I tried to bring it to my lips but the fumes reminded me too much of the cleaning agents they used inside Nanna’s psychiatric hospital. It made my stomach churn.

I scooped the discarded cap up and closed the bottle. Tossing it on the bed, I got up and left the room. I could feel her eyes on my back, but I was already stomping down the stairs. Unsure where I was headed, my feet were crunching on the gravel before the sweet scent of roses and Chinese star jasmine filled the air. Inside their cottage garden, I weaved between the beds and sat down in the dirt.

Afternoon was beginning to give way to evening. Blue banded bees and hoverflies buzzed in the air as they gathered nectar from the pollen in the Queen Anne’s Lace. I took a few shuddering breaths, closed my eyes, and allowed my mind to cycle through the events of the day. Over