Hotbloods (Hotbloods #1)(22)

As I found my footing and re-orientated myself, I was alarmed to see Lauren and Angie through the open back doorway, struggling in the grips of Ianthan and Navan’s brother. The girls’ hair was disheveled, and Lauren’s glasses were askew and loose on the bridge of her nose.

“Hey!” I exclaimed. They all looked over—Lauren, Angie, and the two coldbloods.

“What’s going on?” All four of them asked a variation of the same question in unison, which I probably would’ve found amusing, in different circumstances.

Navan stepped around me, and I gaped as his wings retracted beneath his shoulder blades… This was the first time I was witnessing it with his back facing me, and it was like one of those vacuum cleaners that sucked up the cord after you were done cleaning—the wings folded into compact lengths, before whipping back within his body. Where did he even have space to store them? I mean, their backs were broad, but… I shook my head, pondering their bizarre anatomy while Navan picked up his torn shirt, which was resting on a log near the door. He shrugged it on as he approached his brothers. “You can let them go,” he said, gesturing to my friends. “I struck a deal with their friend, in exchange for them drinking the Elysium.”

Angie and Lauren’s eyes bulged as they stared at me. I nodded back at them, trying to give them a reassuring look—which was hard, considering I did not feel in the least bit reassured—before I hurried to them, grabbing their hands and pulling them out of the house, into the backyard beside me. Their skin felt hot, just like mine did, and I assumed it was the effect of the coldbloods’ touch on them.

“We heard you scream,” Lauren explained unevenly. The poor girl was shaking. “We climbed out of the room to come look for you—and we probably would’ve made it out if I hadn’t dropped my damn glasses!”

“You really need to try wearing contacts again,” Angie muttered, brushing down her shirt and shorts to straighten them.

“Guys,” I said in a hushed tone, glancing hesitantly at Navan, who was muttering something to his brothers, his back turned toward us. “You’re just gonna have to trust me on this one… At the very least, we’re going to get some answers.”





Chapter Eight





After Navan had finished talking with the other two coldbloods, he retreated into the house with Ianthan, while Navan’s brother approached us. Angie and Lauren moved a little closer to me, and we all eyed him warily. He stopped a few feet in front of us and crossed his arms over his chest, looking us over.

“Since it appears we’re all getting into the spirit of sharing information, I’m Bashrik,” he announced, a genial expression on his face. Apparently, he had another side too.

“Um, okay,” I murmured.

“Hi… Bashrik,” Angie added uncertainly. He was the one who had been manhandling her just now, so I more than understood the hesitancy.

“And your names are?” he asked, smiling as if we had just met up for a first date.

“Uh . . .” I glanced at my friends, and they looked as befuddled as I felt. “I’m Riley—and this is Lauren and Angie.”

“Riley, Lauren, Angie,” he rolled our names around on his tongue. “Interesting.”

“Not as interesting as your names,” Lauren said.

Bashrik sighed, his eyes traveling back to the house as Ianthan and Navan re-emerged, carrying four chairs. “That’s all a matter of perspective.” Then he went over to where his brother and Ianthan were placing the chairs on the grass, about ten feet in front of the back door.

“A matter of perspective,” Lauren repeated. I realized that she had also noticed the strange steel globe tucked beneath the shadows in one corner of the yard, and was gaping at it.

Bashrik followed her gaze, and smiled. “Ah, yes… That, I imagine, will be a part of our conversation.”

“What the hell!” Angie exclaimed. “What is that thing?”

Navan took a seat directly opposite me. “We really weren’t planning on having a bunch of teenagers crash our place tonight,” he informed us. “So… I’m sure you’ll forgive us if our hospitality isn’t exactly on point.” He gestured to the little gathering of chairs.

“Uh… it’s okay,” Lauren said absentmindedly, still completely distracted by the globe.

Bashrik seated himself next to his brother once Ianthan returned with two more chairs, while Ianthan sat on the other side of Navan. The older coldblood, Jethro, appeared in the doorway, glancing uncertainly toward us, but he made no move to come out.

Now that we were all seated, Bashrik introduced us by name to Navan and Ianthan, who nodded curtly. Navan sat up straighter and looked right at me, a resigned expression on his handsome face. “Well, Riley? Would you like to start this impromptu—and very unexpected, might I add—question and answer session?”

Of course I had a million questions, but now that I was being given the chance, my mind couldn’t narrow it down to just one. I couldn’t seem to get my mind to focus on anything… and the way he was looking right at me wasn’t helping.

“What are you?” Angie blurted out before I could say anything.

Navan leaned back in his chair, contemplating Angie for a few moments, before replying, “We are known as coldbloods—although you humans would likely refer to us as vampires.”