Blood Hunt (Blue Blood Babies sequel!)

Chapter Twenty-seven

Chapter Twenty-seven

It was Anna, but it didn’t look like her.  I gazed at my sister, eyes taking in the subtle – and not so subtle – differences.  She’d told me she’d chopped her hair off, but it was still a shock.  It looked like she’d done it herself; the left was just slightly out of line with the right.  It wasn’t exactly stylish, but I had the feeling she’d been going more for function at the time.  She was a lot thinner, too.  Her cheeks were hollowed, cheekbones slanting razor sharp beneath dark eyes ringed with grey shadows.  Her lips were cracked and pale, her skin sallow.  She didn’t look well at all.

“Are you okay?” I croaked.

“I’m fine,” she said.

She didn’t look fine.  I pursed my lips and stared at her.  Over her shoulder, out the rear window, I could see the refugee camp shrinking rapidly, the men who’d been about to yank me out of the car already the size of ants.  Anna swivelled round to look too, getting her last glimpse of the place.  I wondered if she was sad to be leaving there.  But how could she be?  It didn’t particularly look like a fun place to be.

“How long were you there?” I asked her quietly.

Anna shrugged but didn’t look round.

“Not long, a couple of weeks.  After we left Uncle Kevin’s we stayed for a while in a flat in Brintslow.  The town, I mean.  The police organised it.  But then Mum and Dad kept getting worse and worse and they took them away.”

“They just left you to look after yourself?”  My voice was incredulous.  Anna shift back round on the seat, looking suddenly sheepish.

“They were going to send me to some sort of home or something.  I didn’t want to go so I-,”

“You ran away,” I finished for her.

She made a face.  I took that for a yes. 

“Jesus, Anna.  Anything could have happened to you in that place.  You should have gone to the home.  It’s a miracle you weren’t killed.  Or worse”

Anna narrowed her eyes at me, lip curling.  I knew what she was thinking: what could be worse than getting killed?  I could think of a couple of things...

“I was fine in there,” she said heatedly.  “People looked after me.  They-,”

“Yeah, you look great,” I cut across her, my words heavy with sarcasm.

She glowered at me for several seconds then tutted loudly, folding her arms across her chest and staring out of the window.  I kept her under my scrutiny for a moment longer, making my point, then turned to sit properly in my seat.  I felt strangely off-balance so I reached for my seatbelt.  It made me feel a little more secure, like it was holding me together. 

Plus, Ryan was driving at least twenty miles an hour over the speed limit.

He was mad.  Or nervous.  Neither of them were particularly comforting.  I could all but here the crunching sound as he ground his teeth together.

“Thanks,” I muttered quietly.

“What?” he barked.

“Thanks,” I repeated.  “For doing this.  I’m really...” I cleared my throat.  “I’m really grateful.”

Ryan grunted non-commitally, but he eased off the accelerator slightly.  His knuckles were still white where they gripped the wheel, though, and he was staring unblinkingly in front of him, except for the brief moments when his gaze flashed into the rear view, checking we weren’t being followed.