Half-Blood Curse

1 - a call for help

Hi! Just so you know, this is not going to be quite as kinky as Glimpse. Sorry, it's just not! I mean its sexy, but it's not kinky, or at least not THAT kinky ;) It's also not an instalove story like Glimpse. I say this so I don't disappoint anyone who was hoping this book would be alot like that one. It's a romance and its sexy, but its a totally different vibe.

I hope you still like it!

It was pouring rain, and Lucas had just settled in to work on some cozy blood rituals in the warmth of his dimly lit basement, when he got the phone call that imploded his entire life.

The nagging of his ringing phone distracted him from the blood that he had painstakingly painted on a wide, flat slate of shimmering opal. The old iPhone vibrated and jingled in his pocket, and he frowned as he tried to ignore it. The rain pounded against his old house, and thunder shook the air outside like a vengeful god. If he could ignore all that, then surely he could ignore the phone.

He breathed a sigh of relief when his phone went quiet. The paintbrush in his right hand was smoking and spitting with magic as he drew the lines of his own blood in swirling shapes across the stone. Occasionally, he dipped the brush onto a cut he had opened on the top of his left forearm. He used to cut his palms, but no one had told him that palms took a devilishly long time to heal, and hurt more besides. Pretty much anywhere else was better, and so far nothing had exploded from his decision to use a non-traditional body part. If he was a real wizard, legal and registered, he would be able to go to the university and read entire books on why certain rituals were meant to be rigidly followed to their exact guidelines. But he wasn't, and he couldn't, so sometimes he chanced a little flexibility.

He reached out to put the finishing mark on the stone, his anticipation building. His phone went off again, startling him. The slight shake in his hand made the last line a little crooked. The circle he had painted was full of perfect swirls and connecting hoops within hoops, making a dizzyingly complex spherical pattern. But just to the right of the circle's center, his last line was wobbly.

"Fucking hell," he cursed, plunking the brush in a cup of magically cleansed water. He pulled his phone out of his pocket without looking at the caller ID, too busy giving his creation a suspicious glare. Would it work?

And if it didn't work, would it just do something totally random, or would it kill him in an agonizing magic explosion? Those were pretty much the two options. He answered the phone.

"Hello, this is Lucas."

"Lucas!"

The frantic voice made his blood run cold. He spun away from his blood-rune and raced for the stairs out of the basement, taking them two at a time.

"Mom? What's wrong?"

"I need your help, please! You have to come, please, Lucas! I'll do anything!"

"Where are you?"

Lucas ran out of the basement and into his kitchen. On the old, vinyl countertop his backpack and raincoat were waiting exactly where he had tossed them carelessly an hour before. That was good. Sometimes, his magic-saturated possessions liked to fuck with him by moving around when he wasn't looking. A flash of lightning outside split the night, and Lucas yanked his raincoat on. He heard his mom cursing, talking to someone frantically. He grabbed his keys out of his bag and started running for the door.

"Mom, tell me where you are!"

"I'm in Chicago!"

Lucas froze, his hand just grasping the doorknob to go outside. "You're in Chicago?"