Free New Blood by Gail Dayton

swallowed the hot-tempered retorts crowding her tongue. She had a hundred of them, a thousand, beginning with the size of brains compared to the size of—but she didn’t dare use them. Even with the protection Jax had built for her.
    She was tired of it. Tired of swallowing her temper and choosing every word. Tired of this place. Tired of this
life.
    And Jax waited inside the tent with something new. Fresh magic. Powerful. Different. Suddenly she wondered why she’d ever hesitated.
    â€œGood night, Teo.” She turned to walk the few paces to the tent’s opening.
    â€œDon’t you walk away while I’m talking!” Teo’s voice came closer, grew louder. “Come here, woman. I’m talking to you!”
    Amanusa ducked inside, stomach churning, just as Szabo snapped out Teo’s name. The outlaw fell silent, and after a moment she heard the crunch of footsteps walking away again.
    Her knees crumpled and she reached out for . . . for . . . she didn’t know. Something. Anything.
    Jax caught her trembling hand. He helped her to the cot. He brought her a tin cup of tea, blowing on it to cool it before he handed it to her. He wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and knelt to unlace her shoes and ease them off.
    â€œThank you.” She took a sip of the tea, huddling ’round its warmth. She didn’t know why she should be so chilled; the night hadn’t yet stolen away the day’s warmth. “I feel so silly.”
    â€œThat man means you harm.” Jax set her stocking-clad feet on his thighs again and began to rub them warm. “It’s natural to be afraid, especially since you have not had the magic to protect yourself. I don’t know what he said, but I heard how he said it. We have work to do tonight.”
    Amanusa frowned as she sipped again. “I thought you understood Romanian.”
    He gave her a crooked smile, his rubbing changing from warmth-inducing to deep, penetratingkneading. Heaven. “I understand
you.
I can tell when you’re speaking—Romanian, is it? But I don’t understand them when they speak it. Helps with the simpleton role.” He patted her toes as he set her second warmed, soothed foot back on his leg. “Finish up the tea and lie down. Better that way for your first ride, I think.”
    Now Amanusa was the obedient one as she drained her cup and handed it to Jax. He stretched his arm past the door flap to set it on the table outside while she stretched out on her back.
    â€œThere we go.” He tucked the blankets close around her feet. “Arms out,” he said. “At least for now.”
    â€œExplain what we’re doing. What does it mean to ‘ride the blood’?”
    Crow walked into the tent and cocked his beady eye at them, as if checking to see what they were about, then turned and hopped out again, apparently satisfied. Jax chuckled as he sat on the ground near Amanusa’s head, looping his long arms around his upthrust knees.
    â€œExactly what it sounds like,” he said. “You will follow the blood—yours—” He pointed at her. “Inside the subject—me—” He turned his finger toward himself. “And ride it. It’s one of the foundations of blood magic.
    â€œWhen you ride, you can search out hidden thoughts, hidden illness—whatever you need to find. It’s how the sorceress obtains justice. Secrets are impossible to keep when you ride another’s blood. You can heal while riding the blood, though it’s difficult and requires more blood from you.”
    He paused. “Death—the execution of justice—requiresonly a tiny drop. Which is why I will take more from you than that.”
    â€œWhy only a drop?”
    Jax met her eyes a moment, before looking back at his loosely clasped hands. “Yvaine never explained it to me. That I can remember.”
    Amanusa shivered at the reminder of the magic