Blood Song by C.D. Gorri​

Her blood sings for him, will he answer the call?

Carina Martin has a unique talent to find objects and to identify them by touch. She uses it for other people in order to eke out a meager living among other normals along the East Coast, but there is more to life than that, and she is dying for a piece of it.


“Have you heard of the Ouroboros Society?”

He spoke with a slight accent. His voice had that deep, velvety timber I loved and it seemed to tease and stroke up and down my spine like a lover’s hands. I wasn’t prepared for it or for my wildly inappropriate reaction considering my precarious situation.

I hated to admit it, but I hardly understood his question lost as I was in the contemplation of his voice. That coupled with the loss of too much blood had left me lightheaded and dizzy. My fingers and toes had already gone numb, and I felt as if a frozen sort of shroud was draped over my beaten body. I was dying and I knew it.

That did not change the fact that the stranger speaking to me was positively dazzling. Breathtakingly beautiful men were not exactly my forte, and he was better looking than anything or anyone I had ever seen.

Silver eyes seemed to take me in from head to toe in an instant. If not for that movement, he could’ve been a statue. Tall and built under his impeccable suit. Who dressed like that around here, anyway?

Oh yeah. He was definitely better looking than anything I’d seen in the last twenty-four hours. But that was not hard to accomplish considering I was lying on an uneven cobblestone alley between poorly handled plastic bags of rotting garbage, broken bottles, drug paraphernalia, and puddles whose contents I would rather not think about.

In between them were the usual marks of the rodent population, scat from various strays and nocturnal critters, and whatever else wallowed in the dank and dark alleyway. What was it he said again? Oh yeah, something about an Ouroboros Society?

More supernatural business. Shit I tried to stay out of, though that was hard since I had a foot halfway into that world myself. Being a psychic kind of sucked, especially for a normal like me. I could hardly recall a memory where someone didn’t look at me like I was crazy when I revealed what I could do. Which was probably why I had so few friends.

Normally, I didn’t care for pity parties. But fuck it. I was dying. If I couldn’t feel sorry for myself when I was dying, when was the appropriate time? SMH. Yeah, this really sucked. And I was feeling worse by the minute. Numbness didn’t mean I couldn’t still feel the pain. On the contrary, the bitter cold seeping through my blood was like a thousand needles racing through my veins. It hurt like fuck.

“Focus on my voice,” the stranger said and my eyes locked on his, “We, those of us who follow the ways of the Ouroboros Society, are a group of Vampires who provide patronage to certain humans we are interested in seeing reach their full potential. Humans like you, Carina Martin,” he smiled briefly, showcasing his perfect white teeth in a way that was both predatory and somehow enticing.

The handsome man cocked his head and flared his nostrils, closing his pale silver eyes for a moment while he sucked in a deep breath. I stared as the tip of his tongue darted out, licking his lips. He growled a bit, as if he was savoring whatever scent he was picking up.

Suddenly, I understood. Here was a man who was not a man at all. He was one of them.

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