Blood Beast Read Online Free Page A

there’s demonic energy in the air, but under everyday conditions they can only manage minor spells. Most mages are part of a group known as the Disciples — they fight demons and try to stop them from crossing over to our world.
    As far as anyone knows, I’m neither a magician nor a mage. I have more magical ability than most people, and tapped into it when I faced Lord Loss and his familiars. But I’m not a true part of the world of magic.
    That suits me just fine. I don’t want to become a demon-battling Disciple. I want to lead an ordinary life. The thought of brushing shoulders with Lord Loss or his kind again terrifies me. And as somebody who isn’t naturally magical, there’s no reason why I should get involved in any more demonic battles. I can sit on the sidelines with the rest of humanity, ignorant of the wars being fought between the forces of good and evil, free of the curse of magic and the responsibilities it brings.
    At least that’s what Dervish believes. That’s how I’d
like
it to be.
    But something changed in
Slawter.
I discovered a power within myself, and although I hid it from Dervish, it hasn’t gone away. These past few months, I’ve found myself doing things I shouldn’t be able to. The magic is working its way out, eager to break free. It allows me to reverse the flow of water, lift great weights, move objects without touching them. I’ve awoken several times to find myself levitating above my bed.
    I’ve fought the magic with desperate determination. And for the most part I’ve been successful. I hope that by focusing and fighting it every step of the way, I can work it out of my system and return to normal.
    I’d like to talk with Dervish about it and seek his advice. But I’m afraid. Magic is his life. He’s a Disciple first and foremost, dedicated to the task of keeping the world safe from demons. Dervish loves me but I have no doubt that, if he knew about my power, he’d press me into learning more spells. He’d say the world needed me. He’d nag, lecture, and plead. I’d resist, but my uncle can be extremely persuasive when he puts his mind to it. I’m certain he’d nudge me back into the world of magic. . . back into the world of demons.
    So here I am. I want to be an average teenager whose only worries are puberty, acne, scoring with girls, impressing my friends, and getting through school in one piece. But I’m forced to spend the better part of every day brooding about turning into a werewolf or becoming a whiz kid wizard who has to fight evil, heartless demons.
    “Of course I have nightmares. . . .”

Preparations
    D ERVISH has to go away for a couple of days. “Meera’s heading off for distant pastures, might not be back in our neck of the woods for several months, wants to say goodbye in style.”
    “‘In style’?” I smirk. Meera Flame is one of Dervish’s closest friends. Definitely his sexiest. She’s hotter than a hot dog that’s been cooked extra-
hot!
“Are you and Meera finally going to get it on?”
    “Don’t be ridiculous,” Dervish snorts. “We’re just friends. You know that.”
    “That’s what you always
tell
me . . .” I tease.
    “Well,” Dervish huffs, “it’s true. I’ve never made a pass at her and I don’t intend to start now.”
    “Why not?” I ask, genuinely interested.
    Dervish pulls a saintly expression. “Grubbs,” he says softly. “Remember when I told you that your dad was Bill-E’s Dad too?”
    “Yes . . .” Warily.
    “What I didn’t tell you was that your mother. . . well, the woman you thought of as your mom only met your dad after you were born. Meera . . .” He stops.
    I gape at him, head pounding, limbs trembling. My world starts to explode.
    Then I catch his grin.
    “You son of a jackal!” I roar, smacking his balding head. “That wasn’t funny.”
    “Oh, it so was,” he laughs, wiping away tears.
    Most of the time I get a kick out of Dervish’s warped sense of humor. But there are other