Blood Rules Read Online Free

actually was, and his face, with that slightly crooked nose, had gone back to its normal stillness—like the façade of an abandoned house, the windows gray and cloudy.
    His head was cocked.
    Was he listening?
    His possible interest lit something in me. Hope.
    Actual hope.
    If I improved my disposition, would that make him look at me differently? Would he feel whatever he’d started to feel for me back before the truth about Abby had come out?
    Sorrow and anger began to simmer deep in my belly, but I tamped it down before it resulted in another change . . . and in more trouble.
    More than anyone, I needed some kind of cure, and the only one I could think of right now was for me to end my life. I’d already tried that after Gabriel had found out the truth about me, but he’d stopped me for some reason. Now, I still figured he would’ve been better off.
    I realized that, maybe, Chaplin was really going at this subject right now because Gabriel was near, and my response might be affected by that. It was also becoming more obvious that my dog might’ve asked me to come to this new homestead not only because he loved me, but because he’d wanted to lead me to accept the idea of a cure, all while making it seem as if I’d agreeably arrived there with minimal assistance.
    Too smart for his own good, this dog.
    If there is a cure, Chaplin said, what would you do to find it?
    â€œIf it were true, I’d do anything.” The comment was out before I could even think, but I knew with all my heart that it was what I’d been feeling for a long time now.
    And if the cure required more than just swallowing the contents of some vial?
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    I mean, what if it involved conditioning, Mariah? Ultrashock therapy. Mental tooling—
    I recalled how Gabriel had tried to slay me after hearing about Abby’s death. How, beneath his words and actions, he hated me even now because I was a killer who couldn’t help herself.
    I suppose, in life, there’s always a moment where you run into the wall of yourself. That was what I was feeling now, the crash of knowing there’s nowhere else you can go because you can’t turn back.
    â€œAs I mentioned,” I said, “I’d do whatever it takes.”
    Up ahead, Gabriel glanced partway over his shoulder until he met my gaze.
    His eyes . . . red glows in the night.
    I held my breath, then used my energies to think to him, willing his vampire mind to pick up my inner voice.
    Believe me, Gabriel. I want to be better.
    His only answer was to turn round and slip into the cavern entrance, leaving me behind with an Intel Dog who gave me a sympathetic look, then stranded me, too.

3
    Gabriel
    G abriel had no sand-picking idea why he’d even slowed down enough to listen to Chaplin and Mariah talking about a cure.
    He’d almost gone looking for one himself after learning about Abby’s death, but he’d stayed in the Badlands. Who even knew where to search?
    Talk of one was nothing more than typical Badlander blabbity, anyway, he thought, making his way through the rockfaced tunnels, which got cooler the lower he went.
    Nothing more than something to make everyone feel better while their world fell apart here, just as much as it had everywhere else.
    Chaplin loped past Gabriel, who could scent the were-creatures in the main room: clean sweat on skin, dirt worked into simple clothing. Gabriel could even hear the blood running freely through their veins, a trait that separated them from the urban hub normals, who ate such shitty, processed food that their bodies sounded like cell-clogged traffic jams.
    Then he heard Mariah, who’d obviously rushed down the tunnels to catch up with him. He always knew her from the rest of the Badlanders, even from a distance, because her angry vital sounds resembled thunder in her veins—a sensation that rattled him, too, though he’d come such a long way in accepting