Split Blood: The Ancient Codex - Part One (Book #1 ) - COMPLETE

CHAPTER THREE - CONGRATUALTIONS IT'S a... (Part 4)

CHAPTER THREE – CONGRATUALTIONS IT’S a…

(Part 4)

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I threw my arms in the air and strong red lightning bolts simmered through my arms, up to my fingertips. Creating a ball of energy above my head, Lowell was distracted by this powerful display.

Within seconds the bolts connected with his furry hide as he was electrocuted and thrown out of sight. ‘Baby, are you okay?’ I asked as I ran over to Rohan, who was astonished at what he had just witnessed.

‘Yeah, I’m fine thanks,’ he replied painfully, as I helped him up to reveal a gash in his ribs.

The smell of his blood alerted the baby and it began thrashing around. ‘Quick - bite me before the smell of your blood makes me pounce on you,’ I said as I bit into my wrist and put it to his mouth.

His wound took longer to heal than usual and my urge for his blood departed. ‘I’m becoming more mortal now,’ he muttered.

I kissed his head as I knew this was a worry for him. ‘Don’t worry. I don’t need you to protect me; the baby is helping with that task. I just need you to always love us,’ I replied lovingly as he held onto me and started kissing my stomach.

Hoping we had killed Lowell, or at least slowed him down for a while, we continued on our journey, being extra vigilant due to Rohan’s fleeting strength.

It took us one; long, exhausting, day to get to the village of Ignotum but the welcome we received there made the sores on my feet, the brewing pain in my stomach and the pain in my head worth it. ‘Welcome! Come in, quickly!’ Idony said as she ordered two burly men to open the enormous solid wooden gates.

She steered us to the side as the two men shut the gates again quickly.

Approximately 50 years old, Idony was a voluptuous woman; just by looking at her, you could tell she lived well. Her African roots pulsed through her blood, visible to all. Her stained red locks were encased in a colourful head wrap, her wrists adorned with numerous large wooden bangles and chains - of wood, shells and bones - guiding one’s eyes to her ample bosom. She gave us the impression she was maternal, yet somehow with a deadly sting.

Ushering us down a dusty, dark path with sharp weeds and thorns to either side, we couldn’t establish where we were - until we looked up. Enclosed in a compound of mammoth wooden walls, we knew that would be safe for at least one night here.

The village was nothing like what I had expected.

Clean, with well-built equipment, it was like Lily’s forest, just with a more rustic approach.

Sheepskin rugs, handmade clay pots, steel pans and wooden cutlery were kept in some woven wooden baskets to the left of the camp, in a makeshift storage area. Along with these luxuries, chopped wood, berries and vegetables were found in smaller baskets.