The Immortal Rules (Blood of Eden, #1)

“Sneaking off, are you?” she demanded, narrowing her eyes. “Jeb won’t like it. Where are you going?”


“Why don’t you just make something up?” I said, taking a step forward, pleased when she hastily backed up. “That’s what you’ve been doing all this time, right?” She flushed, and my smile widened. “I notice you don’t talk to Zeke or Jeb when you’re spreading your lies. Afraid they’ll see the forked tongue come out?”

She looked as if she wanted to slap me, and a part of me hoped she would. I bet she wouldn’t be nearly so smug with a missing tooth. For a moment, she struggled to control herself, gripping the bowls of stew so that her delicate knuckles turned white. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ruth said at last, and I snorted. Glancing at the bow in my hand, she sneered at me and raised her chin. “You think you’re going to bring something back? What do you know about hunting? If you think Zeke will notice your pathetic attempt to show off, you’re sadly mistaken.”

“Yes, shooting a deer so the lot of you won’t starve because of the delusional paranoia of a madman is me showing off.” I rolled my eyes. “What a brilliant assumption. Why don’t you go tell Jeb that?”

“Don’t be smart,” Ruth hissed back, all subtlety gone. “You think you’re so special, just because you’re from a vampire city. You think I don’t see it? How you sleep away from the rest of us? How you try to be so mysterious, not saying anything about where you came from?” She curled a lip in pure, hateful disgust. “You just want attention—ours and Zeke’s. I can see right through your act.”

This time I did laugh at her. “Wow, you are a paranoid shrew, aren’t you? Does Zeke know what an absolute bitch you can be?” I snickered, and her face flushed bright crimson. “You know, I don’t have time for this. Have fun with your theories, spread your poison around as much as you want. I’m going to do something useful now. Maybe you should try it.”

“You’re a freak, do you hear me?” Ruth called as I turned my back on her. “You’re hiding something, and I’m going to find out what!”

I tried not to let her get to me as I jogged away from the camp, already scanning the horizon for moving prey. I tried not to think about turning back around, stalking her to the edge of camp, dragging her kicking and squirming into the night, and tearing out her throat. It wasn’t that she was annoying, because she was, really, really annoying. It was because she was a threat, and my vampire instincts were telling me to kill, to silence her before she exposed me.

I tried channeling those thoughts of death and violence into my current task, eager to be hunting again. I found a herd of the huge shaggy animals huddled together in a shallow basin but decided they were too big to bother with. Not that I doubted I could kill them; lose enough blood and they’d die just like anything else. But if I went back to camp with one of those giant creatures slung over my back, I might draw suspicion.

Instead, I prowled the rolling hills until I found a herd of small deer, browsing along a grassy ridge. Putting down the bow, I crept forward through the grass, staying downwind, until I could see the gentle rise and fall of their sides, smell the blood pumping hot in their veins.

It was over very quickly. The small buck I’d singled out didn’t even know something was wrong until I was nearly right on top of him, and by then it was too late. The rest of the herd scattered as I charged into their midst, but I grabbed the deer’s antlers as it was lunging to its feet, wrenched the head around, and quickly snapped its neck, killing it instantly.

As it fell twitching to the ground, I resisted the urge to sink my fangs into its throat, knowing the stag’s blood would do nothing for me. Hefting it to my shoulders, I walked back to where I’d left my bow and quiver. Dropping the carcass, I took an arrow from the quiver and drove it into the stag’s body, sinking it between the ribs. Maybe I was being paranoid, but explaining to someone why the deer had a broken neck and no arrow wounds could be awkward.

Grabbing it by the horns, I started to drag it away, when a faint yet familiar rumble drifted over the grass, coming from the nearby road. As I froze, wondering where I’d heard it before, two headlights crested a hill and came roaring down the other side. My stomach twisted, and my blood went cold.

Ducking into the grass, I watched the strange machines slow, then pull to a stop on the side of the road. A large bearded man swung off the vehicle, killed the engine and spat into the grass. His companion, a smaller human, pulled his machine to a stop, as well. For a moment, my mind went blank, and I had to kill the urge to flee into the darkness and not look back.

No. It’s not possible. I killed them.

“Hang on a second,” the larger human muttered, staggering unsteadily to the edge of the pavement. The other man sighed.

Julie Kagawa's books