Free Blood Rose (Blood Books Book 1) by Danielle Rose

inhaled deeply as the wind brushed across my cheeks. It felt like I was only at peace for mere moments, though I was sure we ran for hours. I never grew tired or weary of where the vampires were taking me. I trusted in myself and in Mother Earth. And just as I was finally coming to terms with what had happened to me, we came to a hasty stop.
    A black, wrought-iron fence loomed before us. The tips pointed like deadly daggers. Two large gargoyles stood beside the wide entrance. Their menacing glares stared back at me. Witches had often used gargoyles for protection against evil entities, and I found it odd that vampires did, too.
    “They’re spelled,” Jasik said.
    I met his eyes, confused. “Witches live here?”
    “No, but we’ve made allies,” he replied.
    I couldn’t help gawking at him. Had he really just suggested that witches had helped vampires?
    “There is much for you to learn,” he said, his British accent thickening the words. He smiled, turned, and walked away. The other vampires had already left us behind.
    I realized then that I could run. By the time they had realized I wasn’t there, I could be to Montana or back home in Wisconsin. I knew I could never run back to Shasta. They’d find me there. But I could be free. Free of my Pagan expectations. Free of the vampire curse. And then I shook my head and kicked twigs at my feet.
    I could never be free of the vampire curse, and it was time to face it: I needed Jasik. I wasn’t very good at being a vampire.
    I followed the vampires across the threshold. I had almost expected to burst into flames upon entrance, like an evil being entering holy grounds. I laughed inside at the thought. Comparing a vampire coven to holy ground? I must have lost my mind.
    The overgrown grass made it difficult to navigate the stone walkway. A small cemetery sat to my right. I found myself stopping to pray for the lost souls. The headstones were stacked one after the other. I wondered how the dead fit in such close quarters.
    The carvings on the front stones were dark, new. The stones in rows farther back were dirty and chipped, and the ground around them was covered in weeds. I wondered how long the oldest grave had been there. One hundred years? Five hundred? I thought back to our cemetery. Ancestry played a bigger role in the vampires’ lives than I had realized.
    The similarities between the two species, witches and vampires, left a bad taste in my mouth. Why, in all of my teachings, had I never learned of this side to them? Why had I never learned of Hunters, of vampires who seemed to protect me more than my own coven?
    The overhanging trees were without bloom. I imagined how cold it must be. It was December, and we were in Washington. There was a light layer of snow beneath my feet. The crunch of it beneath my heels brought me home. I smiled as I remembered the long winters in Wisconsin. They seemed never-ending.
    Each season brought a blizzard, and each blizzard brought games. I would play outside for hours. Only during Wisconsin winters did I learn how to control my magic, because only then did I need to call upon fire’s warmth.
    I lifted my arm, palm to the sky. I didn’t feel cold, though I felt the breeze. I suppose I only knew it was cold because the human in me still beckoned to me. The witch wasn’t letting go, after all.
    I dropped my arm and slowly backed away. As I turned, I collided with Jasik, who wrapped his hands around my arms to keep me from losing my balance.
    “I was just…” I said, looking over my shoulders. Only then did I see them. They glinted as the moonlight hit them just right. Runes. Runes of protection, of strength.
    “We must get inside,” he said, breaking my trance.
    “Who’s buried here?” I asked, pulling away from him. The runes spelled on the tombstones were powerful. They were meant to keep something out.
    Or something in.
    He said nothing.
    “Jasik, who is buried here?” I asked again. I made a point of asking in a tone