Crossroads (Crossroads Academy #1) Read Online Free

The oversized bed is
covered with an ivory down comforter and is accented by sage green
pillows that perfectly match the throw rugs. All of the colors are
very earthy, very me. I smile at the thought of Lissette
restraining herself, rejecting the pinks and purples that most
teenage girls would select and that she herself would have thought
appropriate.
    I notice that the desk appears to be well
stocked with supplies, including a new laptop and several crisp
textbooks that look as though they’ve never been opened. Perhaps
Crossroads doesn’t believe in used books. Another first for me.
    I turn back to the warmer and grab my mug,
carrying it over to the desk so that I can investigate further. I
don’t dare look in the closet yet, knowing I’ll more than likely
find an unsettling and expensive new wardrobe. I opt instead to
check out the books.
    As I drop down on the desk chair tucking my
legs beneath me, I take a long pull from the mug, eagerly
anticipating its contents. I manage to get through three long
satisfying gulps and am nearly to the bottom when the vision shakes
me. It’s brief, but intense. The shock causes me to slam the mug
down on the desk breaking off the handle and splattering the
remainder of its contents on the desktop.
    “Damn it!” I curse, jumping from my seat and
fishing the discarded pouch from the wastebasket. How could I be so
careless? I quickly scan the package, confirming what I already
know to be true. The blood is fresh. It was drawn just a few days
ago.
    I’d gotten so accustomed to the staff at the
manor screening all of the dates that I hadn’t thought twice before
downing it. I generally try not to consume anything under a week
old, especially human, due to my unique condition.
    With the thirst, I’d developed a sixth sense
allowing me to see the donors’ memories and feel their emotions as
I drink. The images are always scattered and the intensity depends
on whether I am drinking direct from the source and the age of the
blood. It’s a lot like watching a movie in fast-forward where both
the images and the emotions are extreme. Since I don’t have a Ph.D.
and can’t really explain it in scientific terms, I liken it to
sucking the life out physically and psychically. Needless to say,
it’s not a feeling I particularly enjoy. It’s an extremely draining
sensation and one that I try to avoid whenever possible. I’ve
noticed that the more time the blood is separated from the body,
the less impact the life-force has left. As the tie to the body is
severed, the blood loses its imprint. Some vamps say harvested
blood is less fulfilling, but I personally find that it makes my
dining experience much more enjoyable.
    In this case, I’m unnerved by the fear this
girl had felt at donating. She’d been downright terrified, and yet
she’d given by choice at a local blood bank. She must’ve had good
reason to overcome her phobia, and I respect that. She’d have been
disappointed to know her donation had gone to a bloodsucker like me
and not to save the life of another human being.
    Pushing the vision aside I remind myself that
others, humans even, are burdened with more inconvenient and
troublesome gifts, and that some are not so fortunate to be blessed
at all. Returning to the fridge, I carefully select another pouch,
eager to satisfy my hunger and the pains that have been working
their way into my stomach. The cramps can be unbearable and
debilitating if the hunger is not sated. It’s not a pleasant
feeling and one I have no intention of experiencing this
evening.
    I use a fresh mug this time and sip slowly,
letting the blood coat the inside of my mouth and warm my throat,
its coppery taste a welcome pleasure. I’d be lying if I said it
didn’t give me a heady feeling, but it isn’t quite the ecstasy
described by groupie whores and wannabes. Although the truth of our
existence is a heavily guarded secret, there are humans who’ve
wormed their way into the outer rings of