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    Trial by Blood
    Trial by Blood
    Trial by Blood
    Ebook169 pages2 hours

    Trial by Blood

    By Lizzy Ford

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    About this ebook

    Leslie wants nothing to do with Myca, the bloodsucking predator of humans she’s stuck with for her third trial. When he’s not trying to wear her down, he’s messing with her head. If not for the simple fact every human she crosses smells like dinner, she’d leave him fast. And ... there’s also the teeny, tiny matter that he happens to hold the keys to everything that’s going on: the curse, her father’s death, the truth behind the trials. He won’t talk, unless she stays. She won’t stay, unless he talks. Their stalemate ends in a night of passion beyond her dreams, and she begins to see the threat – and potential – in the latest supernatural vying to become the Community leader.

    Even so, nothing can prepare her for the dark secrets Myca reveals and the shock of learning her family’s history. She finally has some answers – and they’re more terrifying than anything she’s learned to date.

    Without Myca’s guidance, she’ll never survive the trials. While she’s his mate, he’s obligated to help her, but they both know she’s only vampire for a week.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherLizzy Ford
    Release dateDec 10, 2015
    ISBN9781623782405
    Trial by Blood
    Author

    Lizzy Ford

    I breathe stories. I dream them. If it were possible, I'd eat them, too. (I'm pretty sure they'd taste like cotton candy.) I can't escape them - they're everywhere! Which is why I write! I was born to bring the crazy worlds and people in my mind to life, and I love sharing them with as many people as I can.I'm also the bestselling, award winning, internationally acclaimed author of over sixty ... eighty ... ninety titles and counting. I write speculative fiction in multiple subgenres of romance and fantasy, contemporary fiction, books for both teens and adults, and just about anything else I feel like writing. If I can imagine it, I can write it!I live in the desert of southern Arizona with two dogs and two cats!My books can be found in every major ereader library, to include: Amazon, Barnes and Noble, iBooks, Kobo, Sony and Smashwords.

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      Book preview

      Trial by Blood - Lizzy Ford

      One

      I swear to myself over and over I’m not going to let Myca fuck with my head. I can’t help watching the time go by with a sense of apprehension and fear. Nothing will send me to the door of my father’s killer, unless it’s for revenge. Even then, I’m not going anywhere near Myca this week, when I’m vulnerable to the damning effects of this stupid curse and the trials.

      Six hours have passed since he dropped the bombshell about killing my father and then left. His claims about how long I’ll last before either falling to blood lust, or dying, swirl around my thoughts with maddening persistence.

      "Usually, new vampires start to feel the hunger within six hours.

      "By hour eighteen, they’re either mad with bloodlust or bent over the neck of their neighbor’s dog or child sucking them dry …

      "Twenty four hours, and the blood lust is blinding. They attack people outright like rabid animals …

      "Thirty six hours, and they’re dead, if they don’t feed …

      You’re tough, and you’re a Kingmaker. I’m betting you can make it thirty hours before the bloodlust claims you.

      The words are on a loop in my brain. What’s worse: I’m bored as hell. I started a Buffy the Vampire Slayer marathon after Myca left, partially to distract myself and partially because I have the urge to watch a bunch of vampires get staked to death by a little girl. But I can’t sit still long enough to watch more than ten minutes, and I can’t pick up or read any of the books in the library after the deal I made with Myca. I had no idea how consuming these trials have become, or how I haven’t done anything outside of them, in two weeks. Without the Book of Secrets or the histories or my father’s letters to occupy me, I’m a different kind of wreck. I have way too much time to think.

      I play the footage of my father’s death on my iPad. Here I thought I’d come one step closer to solving his murder, when I saw there were five shadows that walked into the bar that night and only four men visible.

      I’m torn between two instincts, the one that wants me to go werewolf on Myca, and the softer whisper that’s telling me Myca’s confession was too easy. And horribly timed, considering it’s the beginning of our week. This instinct tells me his timing was purposeful, and that there’s always more, no matter what I think I know about what’s going on around me.

      Grabbing my notebook, I make a new list, this one to try to pin down the truth about the candidates. They’re conspiring, but is it the general rules of the trials they’re following that makes them seem to be working together against me, or is this … different? Did every other Kingmaker who went through the trials have a parent who revealed intimate details about him or her to the candidates?

      Did every other outgoing Kingmaker meet with the candidates on the day of his or her death? Ben and Tristan despised my father, but they were both adamant he loved me. If they truly hated him, would they bother trying to convince me my father cared for me? Is this a rule they’re following, that they can’t bash the outgoing Kingmaker, or are they sincere?

      I want to think they’re sincere, and not only because I loved my father more than anything and am in over my head with Ben and Tristan. Something about how reluctant they both were to admit Daddy wasn’t a complete bad guy strikes me as genuine. They didn’t want to like anything about the damned Kingmaker who came before me, but for some reason, they both found one part of who he was that redeemed his character.

      God, I hate thinking about Tristan and Ben. I hurt so bad when I do, and I’ve been trying so hard not to let their names or faces cross my mind. The amount of confusion that’s consumed me the past two weeks leaves me wired, angry, sad and unable to think clearly about either of them.

      They both cared.

      They both lied.

      They both want something from me, and may already know about the Final Trials and be plotting my demise.

      How can I not think the worst of them?

      But … I don’t. I have nothing but admiration for them. Two men struggling to save their clans, who will do anything, even fuck me up, in order to do so. I care about them both. Ben’s determination, Tristan’s tortured soul. Six days with each, and I managed to turn their worlds on their heads and lose all sense of myself in the process.

      Thank god I’m not worried about screwing up Myca’s life. If anything, it’s a relief not to fear myself for once or the curse or the damage I’ll cause in the lives of good people. Myca murdered Daddy. That makes him a bad person in my book, someone probably pretty deserving of the curse I bear.

      The more I obsess over everything, the stronger my suspicion becomes. Something else is going on here. Whether it’s a conspiracy among the three candidates, the unusual involvement of my father in the trials before his death, or a plot by the vampires, I’m in a mess that’s bigger than I initially expected.

      I’m also the only person involved who has absolutely no insight as to the why. To break the curse? Revenge against the detested Kingmakers?

      I check the time then curse. I don’t want to be drawn into Myca’s drama.

      Frustrated, I go to the kitchen and make my remaining package of Ramen noodles. Tomorrow, I’ll have to go to the store and see how far my piggy bank will get me. A piece of me is kind of afraid Myca’s right about blood lust. Dare I go outside, in case I turn into some sort of monster and attack every human I see?

      Then again, he, above the other two, feels like the one who’s probably fucking with me. Maybe being a vampire is easier than being a werewolf or fae. And does he really think I’ll show up at his doorstep after his big reveal?

      I turn up the volume of the television, visible from the kitchen, and seek some peace from my thoughts or, in failing to stop them, to drown them out. It’s dark outside, close to nine o’clock. I don’t feel any different. Hungry, yes, but that’s normal for me this time of night.

      When my Ramen is done, I return to the couch. I mentally concentrate on convincing myself Myca is messing with me about bloodlust and stuff the first forkful of Ramen into my mouth. I almost gag but choke it down.

      Holy … I had no idea noodles could go bad, I mutter. I stare into the bowl, trying to recall how long this particular pack of noodles has been hiding in the back of the pantry. I have no idea, which could mean it’s a few years old. Aside from coffee, I have little else to eat in the house.

      So I force down three more huge mouthfuls and swallow as fast as possible to keep from tasting them. Making a face at the bowl, I set it down on the coffee table and lean back. I’m loudly cheering on Buffy as she’s getting ready to stab a vampire in the heart, and imagining her victim to be Myca, when my stomach revolts.

      I bolt to the bathroom and vomit up the noodles. Coughing and spitting, I wrinkle my nose at the acrid taste in my mouth.

      An icky feeling is sliding through me. I don’t know anything about vampires or even if they can eat people food. I can go a week avoiding Myca out of sheer will, but I’m a girl who likes her food. I can’t go a week without chocolate.

      I hurry to the kitchen and open the pantry. Spotting a box of stale crackers, I yank it out and eat a few. They taste horrible, like I imagine dust tastes.

      A minute later, I’m running back to the bathroom and vomiting up the crackers.

      Fucking … vampires! I shout and then head back to the kitchen.

      I try again, this time with cheese that tastes like mold smells, and then devour the last apple in the house, whose flavor is similar to wet socks.

      My body purges everything.

      Panting and disgusted, I lean against the hallway wall and check the time.

      Six and a half hours.

      Shit. A week is a long time to go without eating anything at all.

      I tentatively try water and am glad when that stays down. Returning to the office, I search it for the N-Thrall I had at one point. If I can keep water down, I might be able to mix enough drugs with it to keep me sedated for a few days.

      The drugs are nowhere to be found, so I raid the medicine cabinet and dig out the cough medicine with sleeping aid. It’s expired, but I don’t give a shit when the alternative is ending up at Myca’s mercy. I’d rather starve to death.

      Somewhat relieved, I take the meds and a bottle of water back to the living room. I swallow six of the pills to make sure they knock me out.

      I’m there … with you … Buffy … I say as my eyelids grow heavy, and I drift into a deep slumber while Buffy continues massacring vampires in the background.

      Two

      Hangry does not begin to describe how I feel the next morning. I’m woozy from the cough meds and starving. I fell asleep on the couch cursing vampires and woke up to see Buffy still murdering them. This cheers me up some. Grimacing at the kinks in my body from the lumpy couch, I sit up and make an attempt to gauge whether or not I’m a murderous vampire yet.

      I don’t know what bloodlust is, but I don’t feel any different, aside from hunger that seems normal. I have no intention of attacking my neighbor’s dog or anyone else.

      Checking the time, I do the calculations to see how far along I am.

      Eighteen hours.

      So far, Myca’s wrong, and this is the happiest thing that’s happened to me since my father’s death.

      I’m able to keep down coffee and run upstairs for a shower before getting dressed. If coffee is all I can consume this week, then I’m going to need a shit load of it. My bank account has seven dollars and my piggy bank twenty four in change. I baggy up the quarters – about thirteen dollars worth – and prepare to leave the house.

      Stepping onto the front landing, I stop and gaze around. The morning sun is full on in my face, dispelling yet another fear I had about being a vampire. Apparently, vampires can go outside in daylight.

      Good to know, I murmur and trot down the stairs. I’m going to try a few more fluids today, to see if I can drink juice, milk, and the like. If so, maybe I can survive off milkshakes or smoothies.

      I head towards the corner store three blocks away. It’s past rush hour, and the streets are quiet. Determined to prove Myca wrong, I’m congratulating myself on being strong enough to defy him, when the smell of steak on a grill wafts past me.

      I stop in my tracks and breathe it in. Dear god – it’s amazing.

      Morning, someone calls.

      I glance towards the house from which the scent originates. A man is closing the front door behind him. He smiles and offers a wave. I’ve seen him around a few times over the years.

      Morning, I reply. Holy hell, if I was cooking something that smelled so delicious, I wouldn’t be leaving the house until it was done and eaten.

      I continue on. I’m always saying I need to go on a diet. Maybe being a vampire will take a few pounds off me. When this is over, I’m going to the closest buffet I can afford and eating everything.

      My phone vibrates. I pluck it out of my pocket, eager to see if either Tristan or Ben has messaged despite knowing they aren’t allowed to talk to me during the week. The number isn’t one I recognize.

      How’s it going? (Myca)

      Fuck off, Myca, I answer aloud. I’m not above a well deserved I-told-you-so and type him a quick response as I walk. Looks like you’re wrong about

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