Blood Song by Cat Adams Read Free Book Online

what’s wrong with me.” I kept my voice neutral as I asked Emma the question. But it was Jones who answered.
    “You are an abomination.”
    “
Excusssse
me?” I raised my brows, my voice bordering on insulted. He laughed. From the expression on his face, it took him by surprise.
    “I take it you don’t laugh much.”
    “Not really, no,” he admitted. The humor was gone as though wiped from a slate. He was talking directly to me, as if Emma weren’t even there, but that didn’t seem to bother her. I would’ve been pissed. “‘Abomination’ is the term used by the vampires for that small group of persons who
should
have died, or been turned, but instead survived with only partial physiological changes. They live, they have a soul and possess their own memories, but have been altered significantly. Each person’s physiology changes differently. We’re still determining that with you.”
    “I ssssee.” I did. I didn’t
like
it, but I definitely saw where he was going. I was now in possession of more strength than the average bear, a lisp, and a pair of really impressive fangs. What else had changed? Would I be able to go out in daylight? Could I eat real food, or had I developed a taste for blood? God, I hoped not. Even thinking about it was just
so
gross. “So you’re going to follow me around and watch me? See what I do and what makes me tick? Is that a good idea?” I’d imagine that was a pretty dangerous way to operate.
    He shrugged. “When we’ve worked with abominations in the past, we normally kept them under for a full month to weaken the tie to their sire.”
    I didn’t ask who “we” were. I had a strong suspicion but didn’t really want to know. Nor did I think he’d tell me. Or maybe he would. Which might be worse.
    “Did it work, and if so, why am I awake?” Or had it
been
a month? I probably should ask what month and year it was. “How long have I been here, anyway?” I pulled on a pair of elegant powder blue lace panties and matching bra, then promptly covered them up with a serviceable navy sweat suit. I used a covered rubber band to pull my hair into a ponytail at the back of my head. It felt about the same length as it had this morning. Or whenever. I reminded myself, yet again, to find time for a haircut. Of course, it occurred to me that my hair might not grow back … ever. Man, I’d better find a
really
good stylist if it was going to wind up my last haircut.
    “You’ve been here about six hours. It’s around ten A.M. And a month didn’t work perfectly. No.”
    He didn’t elaborate, and his tone was absolutely neutral. Too neutral. Sometimes the absence of something tells me more than its presence. My guess would be that the mission he’d been referring to went very bad, very quickly. It might even be the source of the scarring on his neck. Or not. I wouldn’t ask. It was rude. Yes, since I apparently
was
an abomination I should probably find out as much as I could; and I would … eventually. But right now I needed to find out what had happened in the hours I’d lost. Because I hadn’t just lost six hours. The last I remembered was getting ready to visit Vicki.
    “Can you sense your sire?” Jones’s words brought me back to the situation at hand.
    I thought about it. Nothing. There was no sorrow or rage or even happiness connected to the lack of a connection. Just bland neutralness. “No. Is there a trick to doing it?”
    “No. Generally the connection’s just there.” He seemed genuinely puzzled and not particularly pleased.
    “That’s not terribly helpful, you know,” Emma said coldly. She wasn’t looking at him as she said it. Instead, she was very carefully cleaning and putting away every bit of equipment they’d used. In moments there would be no trace of my having been here at all. Except, of course, for the video camera.
    “Make sure they keep the film of my being brought in.”
    “Why?” Emma sounded surprised.
    I wanted to look at it, to