With bloodthirsty shadows on your tracks, will you fight? Or will you run?
Kisa
Iâve always stretched my time to the last minute. A job here, another there, doctor appointments, shopping, cleaning, cooking... Gosh, I sound like a single mother with four kids, but I am only 19, and the sole person in my care is my couple-of-minutes-younger brother. My dying brother.
By what twist of fate I became the Keeper of a cursed Watch is still beyond my understanding, but it might prove useful, if it doesnât kill me first.
Blake
I had one mission, and failed it like a moron - take the Watch from point A to point B without getting in trouble.Fair to say trouble found me, and it has the face of a woman with dark hair and lonely eyes.Now, like it or not, we are stuck with each other and my main priority is her safety.
But the Fates have a twisted sense of humour, and my presence in her life might do more harm than good.
It might kill us all...
With bloodthirsty shadows on your tracks, will you fight? Or will you run?
Kisa
Iâve always stretched my time to the last minute. A job here, another there, doctor appointments, shopping, cleaning, cooking... Gosh, I sound like a single mother with four kids, but I am only 19, and the sole person in my care is my couple-of-minutes-younger brother. My dying brother.
By what twist of fate I became the Keeper of a cursed Watch is still beyond my understanding, but it might prove useful, if it doesnât kill me first.
Blake
I had one mission, and failed it like a moron - take the Watch from point A to point B without getting in trouble.Fair to say trouble found me, and it has the face of a woman with dark hair and lonely eyes.Now, like it or not, we are stuck with each other and my main priority is her safety.
But the Fates have a twisted sense of humour, and my presence in her life might do more harm than good.
It might kill us all...
PRESENT DAY
âAwesome job, girl! You knocked them out. Were the earnings up to your taste?â A plump woman approached me, grinning from one ear to another. Long past her second youth, she had more energy than a toddler with a sugar rush, but the compassion of a nun. A nun with fiery red hair, tattoos, a heavy eastern European accent, and a fist so hefty it put heavy league professional fighters to shame.
âHardly, but I suppose itâs better than nothing.â I sighed, discouraged. âJust an awful night, I guess.â
âOh, sweet-cheeks. Give Maman a hug. Better times will come.â She cooed, caressing my hair. âDo you need extra money? You know you can always ask me for help.â
âNo, itâs alright. Iâll manage somehow.â
âIâm here if you need me. I wouldnât be Maman if I wouldnât take care of my girls,â she laughed, her voice raspy from all those smocking years.
I gave a quick nod.
Truthfully, she took care of âherâ girls, regardless of the profit they brought her. Sometimes, she would even give up on her share as the owner of the Pretty Please Club, without a second thought, as long as the girls didnât break her trust, which was fairly easy to keep. You just had to follow the rules; come to work, do your job, and by any means, do not mess around with the clubâs clients on its premises, apart from some playful flirting.
âDid you manage to find that extra job you were looking for?â
âYes, I did.â
âYou donât sound so happy about it.â
âIâm just tired.â I sighed, rolling my head between the shoulders in an attempt to ease some tension.
âThen what are you waiting for? Get that sexy bum out of here. Go home and have some proper rest.â Maman shooed me out, making me laugh.
âThat will have to wait. In a few hours I start my first shift, so I have to settle for a nap for now.â
âKisa, you are destroying yourself.â She shook her head, disapproving. âYou are what? Nineteen? Twenty? You have all your life ahead of you. Why are you so desperate for money?â She pinched my cheeks, looking straight into my eyes, and lowered her voice. âIs someone taking your money? Are you in some sort of trouble? Tell Maman the truth and will do all I can to help you.â
âThank you.â I smiled sweetly, although my cheeks had already begun to hurt. âBut itâs nothing like that. Just some vital expenses I need to keep at bay.â
âIf you say so⌠but know Iâm here, if you need me.â
âThank you, Maman. Thatâs very reassuring.â
âCome on, run along now. You donât want to waste any more precious sleep time.â
I waved to her and, like always, got out through the back door. I hated using the main one since almost every time someone would try to make a move on me, buy me a drink, or straight-out ask for my price. Though I must admit, their baffled faces when I told them I didnât have one, since I didnât offer that particular service, were quite entertaining.
How stupid! Just because I dance in an almost inexistent outfit, doesnât mean Iâm eager to ride their junk.
The cool night air felt refreshing, but I didnât have time to enjoy it. I had to get home quickly and having received no calls or texts only added to my worries. With a lump in my chest, I reached home as soon as humanly possible and rushing through the door, I shouted:
âKian?â
Not receiving any answer, my heart rate spiked, and I rushed within a breath, to the pile of blankets under which my brother shouldâve been sleeping. Terrified, I pulled them away, looking at the pale, skinny boy laying under them. I swallowed hard, despite my dry mouth and, with tears already pricking at the corner of my eyes, I gently shook his shoulder. His skin was cold under my touch, but the few slow breaths he seemed to be taking reassured me, somehow, that he was still alive. I tried to wake him up, but he didnât react.
âKian, wake up!â I shouted. âKian!â
I shook him even harder, and he finally opened his eyes.
âHey sis,â Kian whispered, attempting a weak smile through his dried, cracked lips. âHave you had a good night?â
âYou know you donât have to worry about me, but I remember you were supposed to text me when you woke up to get your meds. You did take them, didnât you?â
âI did, but then I felt so tired I couldnât even pick up the phone. Iâm sorry for worrying you like that.â
âDonât apologise.â I shushed him, stroking the side of his head, passing my fingers through his short, dark hair. âNow go back to sleep and I will wake you up in the morning when itâs time for the next lot.â
âKisa wait!â He feebly called while I was about to get up. âEarlier today, Miss Thompson brought a letter. It has your name written on it, so I didnât open it. Itâs waiting for you by the cooker. She said itâs fairly important, so as soon as you get home to make sure you read it.â
âThanks, little brother.â
âWhen will you stop calling me that? Iâm just a couple of minutes younger than you.â
âProbably never.â I chuckled. âGo back to sleep now.â
Heâs fine. Thank the angels, heâs fine.
With a relieved sigh, I retrieved the envelope from the kitchen, but couldnât help the bad feeling settling in the pit of my stomach at the mere touch of it. The landlord didnât send letters unless she wanted more money, or even worse, for us to vacate the place. A new lump formed in my throat and, with shaking hands, I opened the envelope, pulling out a single piece of thin, folded paper.
The big, red letters at the beginning of the page confirmed my fears. An eviction notice, like a slap in my face, announcing we had to evacuate the studio within the following two weeks, for the most ridiculous reason Iâve ever heard; disturbing the peace. It was absurd! We never threw parties; we didnât even have friends coming over. The only noises someone could hear from us were Kianâs violent coughing fits, but that wasnât something controllable. Apart from that, when at home, we mostly slept; that is if we could, considering our lively neighbours.
Hopeless, I put down the letter and, inhaling deeply, I bit the inside of my cheek. The pain brought tears to my eyes, confirming this wasnât a nightmare. Where in the world I was supposed to find, in such a short time, enough money to pay the deposit and one monthâs rent in advance. Not to mention all of Kianâs medicines were about to run out and had to be replenished. I donât know for how long I sat there, in that uncomfortable chair, with my head in my hands, calculating all the possibilities we had, which, to be fair, could be counted on the fingers of one hand.
Suddenly, my alarm went off. It was morning, and I had to get ready for my new job. I hadnât slept a wink and my head felt so heavy, like it was full of cement. I put together some breakfast for Kian and myself and prepared his medication. Eight different pills, and that only in the morning; another six at noon, seven at dinner, and four at midnight; plus, an insulin shot every 6 hours and the indispensable inhaler. All this, and his condition didnât even improve, but on the contrary, seemed to worsen with each passing day. Worst part was that we didnât even know what was wrong with him to begin with. In almost fifteen years, not one doctor found the tiniest resemblance to a diagnosis. All they could say was that his body was slowly deteriorating, and all they could do was treat the symptoms since they couldnât find the cause. What started with one pill every three days turned into the pile we had now; and God were they expensive!
Weâll be fine. Weâll be fine.
Stretching the arms above my head, I yawned, tears gathering in my eyes. Perhaps I still had time to rest, even for five minutes. I didnât even have to go to bed for that; I could do it right there in the chair, but as soon as my eyelids closed, a violent cough got me jumping onto my feet and running to Kian. Sitting on the floor on his knees, half leaning on the bed, Kian struggled to breathe, coughing his heart out; tears streaming down his cheeks and his face turning bright red from the effort. Rushing to his side, I threw the pillows off the bed, searching for his inhaler. I found it fallen between the nightstand and the bed, but to my horror, it was empty. Kianâs skin began to turn blue due to the lack of oxygen. Trying my best not to panic, I ran back into the kitchen and, opening the drawer which housed all his medication, I grabbed the last one. It took three puffs to get him to breathe normally again, but after he calmed down and his complexion returned to its usual pale state, I couldnât hold it in anymore.
âYou dumb idiot!â I shouted at him. âWhy didnât you tell me earlier you needed the new one? What if I wasnât home? Are you trying to kill yourself?â
âI-I was going to get it myself in the morning...â He rasped; his voice still broken from all the coughing. âYou⌠you are doing enough things for me as it is. Getting my own medicine is the⌠the least I can do. But it looks like Iâm incapable of even that. I just⌠I donât want to become more of a b-burden for you. Though I know ... I already am one.â
âI do it because I want to.â I pressed a hand on my chest, struggling to level my tone. âI do it because you are my brother. You are not a burden, and you will never be one, so stop talking like that. The same way we shared motherâs womb; we will share everything coming our way in real life too.â I stretched my arms to hug him but stopped in my tracks as soon as he opened his mouth.
âBut itâs not like that, is it?â Kian asked through his teeth, with a pinched, tension-filled expression. âT-there is nothing I can do for you⌠a-apart from depending on you e-every single second of every damn⌠day. Donât you think I know? Iâm the r-reason why you got a second job. Iâm the reason why at nineteen you have white strands in your hair.... T-the reason you donât have a social lifeâŚor a life of your own at all!â His arms flew open, and a heavy sigh released from his chest. âSo, I doubt this is sharing.â
âSorry to disappoint you, little brother, but you wouldâve been stuck with me no matter what.â I swallowed my tears and tried to smile comfortingly despite the rip in my chest that his words had created. âWe promised mother, donât you remember? That we will stay together no matter wha-â
âFor goodnessâs sake, Kisa!â he cut me off. âWe were four years old! H-how can you be sure it wasnât all a dream? Because to be fair, I canât remember any of it⌠I canât even remember our parents ever being with us, so maybe you should think about that again. And even if that were true, my opinion wonât change. I am a burden, and that is all I can be. Probably until the day Iâll die.â
âFine. Breakfast is on the table and so are your pills. If anything happens, activate the emergency app on your phone, and donât forget we have a doctor appointment in the evening.â
Grinding my teeth in a struggle to keep my mouth from saying something I knew Iâd regret; I grabbed a bunch of clothes and went to change into the bathroom. As soon as I looked somewhat presentable, I walked straight out the door without throwing another glance in Kianâs way.
I wasnât in the mood for breakfast anymore.
***
âIâm afraid we will have to postpone your first shift for a little while.â The young man with dark hair told me. I think his name was Mateo, or something along those lines.
âIâm sorry, but I donât understand. What happened?â I asked as I followed with my eyes the police officers roaming left and right.
âThat is what weâre trying to find out. Iâm afraid we donât know much yet either, but until we do, we will have to keep the museum closed. I do apologise for the inconvenience.â He lowered his head a bit, looking genuinely sorry.
âNo⌠um⌠itâs fine. I mean, itâs not something you have control over.â
âUnfortunately, you are right. Itâs best if you head home now, and we will contact you as soon as we know something certain. It shouldnât be more than a few days.â
âI understand. Thank you.â Well, this certainly isnât my day.
I sighed as I turned the corner, feeling a headache getting stronger by the second. It looked like I really had to ask Maman for some money, after all. Oh, and how much I hated to be indebted to someone. Maybe I should ask for extra shifts instead. At home, Kian was asleep, and without making any useless noises, I went to bed as well.
The evening appointment didnât go any better either. As usual, the cause of Kianâs symptoms remained a mystery, but the doctor suggested, yet again, we try a new kind of medicine.
19-year-old Kisa has been worn down by life. Between juggling her stripper persona with her regular life, being on the brink of eviction, and tending to her terminally ill brother, she constantly gives of herself expecting nothing in return.
Blake is a monk on a mission, he has been entrusted with his clan's most precious possession and he is on a race against time to deliver it before it falls into the wrong hands.
The Blood Watch falls soundly into the "Girl gets thrown into a magical world by a mysteriously handsome guy by accident" trope and I am here for it. It was very satisfying to see Kisa open her inner circle to include Blake as she learns more about herself. Her brother Kian, who spends the majority of the book as a secondary player due to his inexplicable illness is quite the enigma when incentivized.
There is a level of mystery and intrigue from the beginning that sets the pace for the action-packed adventure. I don't want to spoil the core of the book but seeing scenes replayed gave a fresh perspective and added an extra dimension of allure.
I honestly wish some of the magical components were explained more fully, for instance, the use of cards as magical objects, how the secret society came about, what is the connection with Maman, where Blake gest his power from, what is the watch powered by, where did the enemy come from? There was a high level of uncertainty and while I do not mind a good mystery, I don't like being confused.
In summary, I do believe The Blood Watch is a good story with an interesting dynamic and promise however the writing needs to be tightened up and some explanations need to be included for the magical world.
I received an arc from Reedsy Discovery in exchange for an honest review.