2. Darkness in the Blood Master copy MS 5 Read Online Free Page B

“Especially mine.”
    “Weeds, Logan,” I shot back as I drained almost a third of the pot into my huge blue plastic mug. As part of his recovery regime, Logan’s health kick was understandable, but there were some lines I just would not cross. “You’re drinking weeds.”
    “Healthy weeds.”
    “Whatever.” I smiled around my mouthful of muffin. I’d missed picking on him mercilessly. I’d held back the worst of my attacks when he’d been so sick. “That’s why you have to drown the taste with enough honey to send a normal person into sugar shock. And that’s got to be so healthy. Right, Ethan?” I choked down my half-chewed muffin, eager to include Ethan in my attack. “Logan can be the healthiest diabetic in Whit…”
    But Ethan wasn’t listening, and judging from his face, he hadn’t been for a while. The newspaper Logan had been so absorbed in earlier drooped between his fingers like wet laundry. His was bone-white and had the most lost expression I had ever seen on his human face. I scrambled to read over his shoulder.
    “Jesus, Cas! Watch it!” Logan yelled, snatching his precious tea out of my path. “What’s wrong with you?”
    “Not me,” I insisted. “Ethan? What’s wrong?”
    He had Logan’s full attention too, now. “Look,” he said, indicating the paper. He placed it on the table between us. “Did either of you read this earlier?” Carefully, with shaking hands, he smoothed the front page completely flat. “Did either of you pay attention?”
    “That’s not even a Whitfield paper,” I said defensively, “so no. Plus I’ve been lectured at since my feet hit the floor this morning. I’ve had no time.”
    “I picked it up because there’s a music festival in Birmingham next weekend. I just wanted to see who was playing.” Logan came to stand over my shoulder and leaned in close.
    Ethan pointed to a headline on the front page, his finger white with pressure as if he could drill down through the surface of the table itself. Heiress Abducted, the headline screamed in gigantic black letters. I leaned in so close to Ethan our shoulders touched. “Twelve year old Caroline Bedford was taken from the family estate in Vestavia last night, despite some of the best private security in the country,” I read aloud. “Bedford is the only daughter of shipping magnate Nathan Bedford. Police have no suspects and no ransom has been demanded. Mr. Bedford has issued a one million dollar reward for Caroline’s safe return.” I frowned; it was terrible news, but I didn’t understand why Ethan was so upset he literally shook against me. He slammed his fist down against a black and white security camera photo. I leaned in closer. I could feel Logan’s hot breath against my ear.
    A girl in a white nightgown and slippers. Long blond hair. A terrified blur of a face, the picture too grainy to make out distinct features beyond the usual trademarks of terror: wide mouth and eyes, head thrown back, arms flailing. Taken in what looked like a hallway with busy wallpaper, two dark figures held her. One gripped her around the waist, and the other seemed to be acting as lookout. Dressed all in black, they looked like army commandos or mercenaries of some kind. They wore form-fitting black clothing, bulky jackets, and huge dark blurry backpacks.
    “I noticed those backpacks right away,” Logan said quietly. Something darkly chilling slid its way down the back of my neck at his tone. “Ethan? Do you see it?”
    “Those aren’t backpacks,” Ethan said at last. He pulled me against him, his arms a circle around me. I leaned into him and leant him my warmth. “They’re abyss wings. Dark Nephilim. They’re taking her into the Dark Realms.”
    Time stopped.
    The three of us stood in shocked silence. “Dark Nephilim,” I said at last. I stared at the two creatures, at the terrified girl. Something else bothered me. Something wasn’t right. “Ethan,” I said at last, a horrible suspicion