Of the Healing Blood

When Anna was eight, she saw her best friend get eaten alive in the woods. It wasn't by a bear or anything else, just something sinister. Anna should've died as well-if not for Ky. Ky is two years older than her, and not human.

Suddenly, Anna is thrust into the world of demons and monsters, where everything is real, and make-believe exists.
There's one catch: Anna's blood can make anything heal instantly, which makes her a target for every demon known to man. And not only that, she doesn't belong to Ky, but to his older brother Shane.


Author's note

To all my wonderful followers who have more patience than I do. I'd like to thank you for sticking to this dumbass writer who's slow to update.

4. The fight

      I don't want to watch; why can't he just kill me? Why does this innocent boy have to die because of me?

      Jace drags me away, ignoring how I dig the heels of my shoes into the ground. He pulls way too hard, and we fall backwards. I'm dazed, but I get up. Jace doesn't-he's hit his head on a boulder, and he barely moves.

      My steps are slowed, and I press my hand on my bleeding shoulder. I can't leave Ky to that monster; he wants me, not him.

      When I get to the clearing, I stagger to my knees, and watch as they do a sort of fight dance. The monster moves to slash Ky in the chest, but Ky blocks it with his sword, and his fists lash out in the monster's jaw. The monster stumbles to the side, his jaw hanging by skin.

      And then, someone else appears. He stands in the middle of the fight, his black wings longer than Ky's.  His hair is tied in a lowered bun, and his attire is the same as Ky's. A girl lands next him, her wings batlike instead of bird.

     "Ky, get Anna; she's losing too much blood. Izzy, protect Ky, and Anna, and get them to safety." his eyes locked on to Ky's. "We will talk about this when we get home, little brother."

       Ky rolls his eyes, but runs to me. He reaches for me, but I'm so tired of people touching me, that I slap his hand away. My hands are red, dried with my own blood.

      And then, the girl, Izzy stands in front of me. She says something, but there's a ringing in my ears, and I can't understand what she says. The blond hair chick (Izzy) picks me up like a baby, and we walk somewhere.

     I'm tired; I have my eyes closed.

     And then someone puts pressure on my shoulder, and I scream as more drops of blood escape from the wound. Somebody protests behind us, but we're airborne, and I no longer care. 

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