Bad Bloods Read Online Free

Southern
Flock had to be together, not through my abilities, but actually
together. Daniel was simply blind to it, and I had to find a
miracle to make him see.
    “Why didn’t you kill Cal?” I finally
asked.
    Daniel blinked, startled. “Huh?”
    “Why didn’t you kill Cal that day he said you
could?” I reworded my question.
    Daniel scratched his head. “Well, for one, I
was still pretty weak. For two, he was much bigger and older than
me, but I think the main reason was”—his upper lip twitched as his
gaze lightened—“I saw a goodness in him, a goodness I hadn’t seen
in a long time. And we have too much hate around us to let even a
little good die.”
    I smiled, and for once, it was a sincere
smile. “I get that,” I said, thinking of the day we had spoken in
Cal’s kitchen. Daniel was the first person who ever said the words
“trust” and “friendship” to me. And when he smiled back at me, I
felt like he was the first person to ever smile. Maybe Daniel was
right about the souls or maybe I was right, but either way, we had
a connection, and our connection had a purpose that went beyond our
abilities. It even went beyond us. It had to be for survival.
    “We’ll find a way,” I promised. “We’ll help
each other through this, opposite flocks or not. We’ll survive
this.”
    Daniel nodded. “But speaking of flocks,” he
sighed, “I should get to mine. Damage control.”
    “I need to get back to mine too,” I agreed,
wondering how I’d explain myself this time. “Goodbye for now?”
    “I don’t say goodbye—”
    “Unless I think it’s final,” I finished his
catchphrase. “Where’d you learn that saying anyway?”
    He shot me a grin. “Maybe I’ll tell you next
time I see you.”
    “Why do I doubt you will?”
    His grin only disappeared so he could lean
forward and kiss me again. He lingered, closer this time, and when
he pulled away, the cold November wind rushed in between us with
his words, “It’ll be okay.”
    And they were the best three words to
hear.

 
     

    I grabbed the
doorknob to Calhoun’s small apartment, and for the first time in my
life, I hesitated to open the door. I was in for it. The entire
flock might not have witnessed Floyd’s aggression, but I ran after
Serena—instead of staying behind to explain myself—and that was
worth denunciation. Still, I forced myself to go inside, and I
prepared for an onslaught of questions and demands. To my surprise,
no one said a word.
    In my flock’s silence, I walked to the fridge
and took out a Diet Coke. Squished side-by-side on the two old
couches—with the rest squeezed somewhere in between—eleven of my
peers waited. Even Floyd was patient. Cal was the only absent one,
but I knew he was nearby, ready to intervene if need be.
    I popped the can’s tab open and took a long
drink before I spoke. “She’s the one who escaped the camp,” I
finally confirmed, “and I did save her, but I originally went after
her thinking it might have been one of you.”
    “None of us were missing that day,” Floyd
pointed out. “None of us have ever gone missing.”
    “I know,” I said. “But instincts took over,
and I did what I thought was the right thing to do.” I took another
sip to maintain my calm demeanor. “Vendona didn’t give me an hour
to make a decision. I had to make it right away, and I did, and I
don’t regret it.”
    Floyd’s eyebrows rose to his hairline, like
they were capable of stretching in inhuman ways too. “You would
risk your flock again if given the chance?”
    I nodded.
    Maggie twisted one of her red curls around
her forefinger. “She’s one of them , isn’t she?” The redhead
didn’t have to explain.
    “She’s in the Southern Flock, yes.”
    “I thought you hated them,” Tessa squeaked.
Even the kids were a part of the discussion.
    I had to lean against the island to keep
myself standing. “I never said that.” I cleared my throat. “I know
you all hear the news, how Vendona