Blood Cursed Read Free Page A

a vodka and lime, and as I sipped the tart chill through a straw, determination ebbed uneasy in my heart. I could do it, right? I wouldn’t let Jasper charm me this time. I’d forget his absent tenderness, the heady flavor of his kiss, the safety I felt in his arms. Instead I’d remember all the times he’d hurt me, all the thoughtless assumptions, harsh asides, and jokes at my expense, and I’d give him his gemstone and take off before he could work his sultry spell on me.
    Get your hand off it, Emmy. One glance from those hot hellviolet eyes, and you’ll melt. You really think you can stand up to him? Remember what happens when you piss him off.
    My courage wavered, the twin tangs of vodka and dread sour on my tongue. I still had aches from the last time he’d taught me a lesson, and the old justifications slid comfortably into my veins, warm and oily from constant use. I should just forget about it, the way I forgot all the fights and slaps and nasty words. Most of the time, it was okay between us. Maybe this time he’d change, stop snorting so much of his own product, treat me better … .
    Yeah. And we’d all get ice-skating lessons in hell.
    No, it was over. I was leaving him. I’d give him his lousy gemstone and walk away, and I’d never let anyone rule my life like that again.
    Uh-huh.
    In a minute.
    I gulped my drink, trying to suck confidence from alcohol and sweat-drenched air.
    “Ember? You okay?”
    That crystalchime voice rang sweet alarm in my head. The smell of roses rolled warm and tempting over my skin, and on the blue glass before me, my shadow’s edge glowed pink.
    Shit. Not Jasper. Worse.
    My heart sank.

2
    Behind the club, the alley shrivels in parched summer moonlight. Heat shimmers above black pavement, hovering over a rusted Dumpster, stacks of empty kegs, crates, garbage dusted in lost fairy glitter. Hot concrete and sweat lick the air with the scent of salt and tar. And beneath an awning pooled in blackness like ink, a cunning glassfairy named Diamond waits to make a killing.
    He flexes tense muscles, sharpglitter wings slick in the heat. His glassfae glamour fades him dim, not quite invisible but translucent like a ghost, shedding a faint rosy glow that barely casts a shadow in the dark.
    Adrenaline and anticipation wet his tongue sharp, and his pulse throbs hot and swift. After weeks of sly faedazzle and trickery, it’s here. And it’s a lovely hot night for a murdering.
    Footsteps ring in harsh moonlight. His crystalsharp ears prickle, and he crouches tighter, fading deeper into shadow. Two people: one large, one small. A limp’s uneven cadence, one foot scraping. A dark laugh, a snatch of conversation in bastardized Sicilian.
    The rotting scent of ancient bloodfever aches Diamond’s delicate fairy sinuses, and his nerves screw tight like tinfoil. Vampire. Sure as sugarplums. And not just any vampire.
    Angelo Valenti, Diamond’s gangland boss, the vampire prince of Melbourne and the meanest gangster in town. Tight dark curls, hard eyes gray like slate, heavy-built but calm and graceful like a cunning panther in his expensive charcoal suit. Flanked as always by LaFaro the lizard, his hunchbacked faeborn confidant with the splayed hipbones and double-lidded yellow eyes.
    Striding coolly along the street like the world owes them obeisance, which around here, it does. Ange and Tony, the Valenti boys. Favorites of Kane, the reigning demon lord, whose gang rules Melbourne’s underworld with rage and demonfear. Powerful. Impeccably connectified. Untouchable.
    Hatred burns cold in Diamond’s iceglass heart. Angelo. Stealifier of girlfriends. Spreader of vile vampire virusicality. Ange fucking Valenti, soon to be the deadest vampire asshole in town.
    Diamond’s translucent fingers clench, and in his palm a half-empty poison vial glitters emeraldine. The poison is strong, he made sure of that, a nasty flesh-rotting brew designed especiamally for vampires, crafted in a stinking