Blood Debts

by Terry J. Benton-Walker

Marie pretends she doesn’t have teeth until she bites you—you

A prime example of what happens when old, racist white women choose to build an oppressive movement instead of a craft room, like anyone else with good sense. And I hate that she gets way more publicity than anyone like her deserves.

I’d say I’m surprised, but after four hundred years of this shit, who of us is anymore?”

“Black folks have to watch police murder our people in the streets daily, but the Redeemers expect us all to avert our empathy to the death of an insufferable white woman that happened three damn decades ago. Talk about caucastic irony.”

My mind feels like a piece of lawn furniture in a hurricane.

But I don’t need justice if I have to trade anyone else I love for it.”

Oz flings whatever’s in the vial he holds in an arc. Black dust fills the air, and Clem and I stumble backward, tripping over each other. A wall of thick mist the color of dark blood shoots up from the floor, blocking the conjuring dust. The black cloud of whatever the hell Oz threw at us hits the wall and rolls over like a wave, then crashes back into his startled face. The red wall of mist recedes, sinking into the floor and vanishing as quickly as it appeared. Oz’s hands shoot up to his neck, and he lets out a hoarse, gagging cough.

I’m not as concerned with Cris’s safety as I am with who she’s becoming. What I saw in her today terrified me. I honestly think she might’ve let Oz die. I hate him, too, but I don’t know if he deserves to die. But then again, I could be biased. I’ve seen enough death. I disliked Oz before he and Cris started dating (which only magnified my feelings), because he was best friends with Zac Kingston.

Oz and zak are both crazy and now theyre on thr loose cuz youre soft

The car pulls off as thunder rumbles in the distance, and the scent of rain clings to the breeze that tumbles through the deserted lot.

Shadows lap at the meek fires of the sconces on the wall, barely revealing stairs that descend into darkness.

To my agent, Patrice Caldwell—thank you for changing my life. You were the first person to give me a chance. And then the first person to genuinely fight for me.