Red Dawn Read Online Free

work.
“Easy for you to say.” I might think the visions are a great place to start too if I wasn’t the one being exposed to the abject horror they usually bring.
    “The blood visions were the first to manifest and since they’ve proven to be most problematic, it’s important that you learn to control them. Then we’ll work to identify other latent abilities. Aldo has indicated it’s likely you’ll have quite a few.”
    I don’t bother suppressing a groan. Bloody hell. I’m not going to be able to argue my way out of this one. No wonder Aldo didn’t want me to know about this in advance. Clearly Aldo and I need to work on our communication skills.
    “Relax, Katia. We’ll take it slow. You can set the pace,” she tells me reaching across the desk to grasp my hand. Her grip is firm and reassuring. I know Anya is sincere. She’ll do her best to keep me from having a total freak attack. Still, it might not be enough. The visions that assault my mind when I drink fresh blood are exhausting and usually overwhelming. There’s not much I can do to control the onslaught of memories and emotions the life-force leaves on the blood.
    “Trust me.”
    “I really don’t have a choice, do I?”
    Anya nods her head, confirming what I already know: there isn’t going to be any negotiation in Talent Development. I throw up my hands in frustration. I hate giving up control. This totally sucks.
    “Alright,” I concede gravely. “Since this is not optional, we might as well get started.”
    “If you’re ready,” she replies dropping my hand. I watch as Anya spins her chair around and opens the mini fridge behind her desk. From where I sit, I can see that the fridge is fully stocked with packets of blood. It appears to be human and was probably brought in from the local blood bank. After reviewing several labels, Anya carefully selects a pouch and twists off the freshness seal. The scent of blood fills the air, invading my nostrils and awakening my hunger. Despite my reservations about this exercise, I crave the blood. I feel my fangs drop as she pours the smooth crimson fluid into a crystal glass. I’m curious as to what it was Anya was looking for on the label.
    It’s not as if I care about blood type. Perhaps she was checking dates. The fresher the blood, the more impact the life-force will have left and the better the chance the vision will be intense. Knowing this, I hope Anya has chosen something older from her stash. Forced to choose between stale blood and the hellish visions, I’ll take the former any day.
    I sit quietly as Anya slides the glass across the desk. It’s difficult not to cast a wary eye on it as I contemplate my next move. Although I long for the blood, the price of consumption is unknown. Maybe the vision will be brief. Maybe not.
    “You need to relax,” Anya coaxes. Despite the look of consternation on her face, her tone is calm and soothing.
    I am anything but relaxed right now. My nerves are wound so tight I’ve got a death grip on the glass. It’s a miracle that it hasn’t shattered into a million pieces already. I take a deep breath and close my eyes, practicing one of the relaxation techniques professor Edwards taught us last year.
    “You need to be in complete control of your emotions before we can start,” Anya warns. So not happening. Anya’s completely deluded if she thinks I’ll actually be able to do this. “Empty your mind and let go of the fear.”
    “Working on it,” I grumble as I continue performing the breathing patterns. Anya’s coaching isn’t exactly helpful. I’m sure it’s meant to be constructive, but it just sort of seems like common sense.
    “When you drink the blood, you’ll want to pace yourself. Take small, even sips. It’s nearly a week old so the impact of the lingering life-force should be mild.” That’s good news at least. It means the vision will be brief. “The donor was a housewife who gives regularly, so I doubt there will be anything