Roar (Witches & Warlocks Book 3) Read Free

actually human. One glance at Noah tells me he’s fine. I mean, he has a huge ass human bite mark on his neck, but it’s not bleeding too much and he’s not dead, so that falls into the realm of fine at this point in time. I sigh and catch Luke’s eyes and try not to let him see me cringe from the pleasure he’s getting from all this.
    I don’t like it when they run. It feels nasty. Chasing them down. Killing them with their backs to us. I don’t like it when they cry either. Come to think of it, there isn’t much I like about this part.
    With a shout, I send another ball of magic towards Nancy and without waiting for it to hit, Luke sends his own blast of magic after mine. See, we could have killed her while she was human, but then there’d be a body. A body without any kind of records at all. Or if there are records, they’re bound to be decades old and that’s only going to open up a bunch of questions we don’t need people asking. And then there’s the little problem of all of our DNA being found around a murder scene. And then there’s Lucy finding out for one hundred percent sure that we’re able to make a vampire human again.
    So, before we kill them, or rather, before Luke kills them, I have to turn them back into a vampire.
    My magic hits Nancy in the back and she spins, the silvery glow coming back into her skin, her disjointed passage through the alley, all stumbly in her heels, becomes graceful and certain. A smile stretches across her face just in time for Luke’s fireball to slam into her. She ignites. It’s fast. At least I can say that. Vampires and fire really don’t mix at all.
    There’s a woompf, a flare of heat, a flash of light, the briefest of screams, and then there’s just the three of us in a dirty little darkened alley behind a seedy nightclub. The wail of sirens in the distance tells me they’ve found Nancy’s victim, her las t victim, in the bathroom inside.
    Without a word spoken between us, Luke helps me to my feet and the three of us head home.
     
    ********
     
    Tired is too plain a word to describe the level of bone heavy exhaustion I’m feeling. I’m stretched out in the tub, coconut scented bubbles covering the water, candles lit in the corners and a glass of water within reach of my water-logged hand. It’s almost too much effort to lift the glass — especially with the heavy beads of condensation gathering on the outside — but I’m just so damn thirsty. And hungry. As soon as I can get my body following directions again, I’m gonna have to head out to the kitchen and scrounge up something to eat.
    The magic just takes so much out of me. I sink a little lower in the tub, letting the water reach my chin. My hair’s getting wet, but that’s just going to have to be OK for now. I’ll pull it back tonight and wash it for real once I can trust myself to stand in the shower.
    So, what? That’s number five? My roommates and I have killed five people? I sigh and close my eyes. They aren’t really people. Anymore. I mean, they used to be people, but they kinda turned in their humanity card when they started drinking human blood to survive. Plus, these guys Daya’s sent us after aren’t exactly good Samaritans. The exact opposite actually.
    I go through this every time. The whole the world’s a better place without them thing. And it never really works. I still feel guilty and worn afterwards. I’m just not a killer.
    Ha.
    I open my eyes and sit up. I’m most definitely a killer. Like five times a killer, as of tonight. And that’s only counting the people I’ve killed on purpose. I guess I’m just not a very good one. I splash some water on my face and pull the plug, standing on my still weak legs as water filters out of the tub. I’m almost tired enough to ignore my growling stomach. I could just crawl into bed and sleep for days…
    My tummy gives one gurgling protest and I pull on a pair of sweats and a tank top, pile my hair on top of my head and wrap a