Hotblood Page 4

  “Cold?” I shook my head, and in spite of the wet clothes and wet hair I wasn’t nearly as cold as I’d been before my walk in the rain. I felt strange without the iciness; it had been my constant companion for as long as I could remember. Is that the thing I’d lost? “No. I’m not cold. I’m filthy though.” I looked down at my mud-covered bare feet. I was leaving footprints all over the hall. “I don’t want to get mother’s kitchen muddy.”

  “That is a very good idea,” he said nodding wisely, and I wanted to giggle again. His expressions were so incongruous on that face.

  I went up the stairs. My mind spun as I tried to remember, to retrieve my thoughts, but it was like trying to eat fog; there was no nutritional value. Whatever had happened in the woods was gone.

  I turned on the hot water and breathed in the steam. When I slid under the water, the heat spread deliciously through me. I could have stayed in the tub forever if my stomach hadn’t kept complaining. I was starving. I turned to the mirror after I’d dried off and winced when I saw the mushroom pale skin with bones protruding underneath. I looked starved.

  Dressed in black, (black seemed to be the only color I owned) I entered the kitchen. My uncles sat around looking comfortable although I noticed that the conversation dropped off when I appeared.

  Grim gave me a nod and gestured towards the white marble island where bowls and plates were filled with more food than I’d seen since the funeral.

  I started picking at the crust of a sandwich but the taste of bread on my tongue was unexpected. It was salty and spicy, the seeds and nuts in the crust adding a dimension of texture that fascinated me. I was completely absorbed with my sandwich until I realized it was gone, my plate was empty, and I wanted more. I ate and ate and ate some more. The uncles left one by one until only Grim was in the kitchen. He was quietly eating his fruit salad when I straightened up from my plate, aware of more than my appetite.

  “I was hungry,” I said self-consciously, then shoved another piece of quiche in my mouth.

  “That’s quite normal for a growing girl.” Grim said with a matter-of-fact tone that did nothing to hide the amusement on his face. “I noticed that you haven’t eaten much for awhile. Hunger is likely to catch up to a person.”

  I looked at Grim, and something about him seemed sympathetic. He was the only uncle who talked to me like I was normal. I kept my voice low. “Grim, I know I ripped Satan’s shirt, but I could have sworn I broke his arm.”

  He looked up at me surprised. “I’m a doctor. Did you know that? That’s why my stitches are so neat.” He smiled. “Satan would rather have a broken arm than a ripped shirt. He’s very Wild and doesn’t mind pain. You don’t know what I’m talking about,” he said and looked at me, those dark blue eyes boring into me. I should have felt uncomfortable but instead I wanted to put my head down and go to sleep. “You’re tired,” he said and stood up. “Do you mind if I check your pulse before I go? I’d hate to have you come down with something. You got caught in quite the storm,” he said with another smile.

  I stood up and held out my hand. He took my wrist in his firm fingers. He cocked his head for a moment as though listening intently then nodded and dropped my hand. “Right as rain and twice as lovely. I’ll be seeing you later. Good evening, Helen,” he added, and I looked towards the doorway where my mother stood staring at me. Her eyes were dark blue as well instead of black. Had the flashes of lightning changed the way I saw color? I followed Grim as he left the kitchen. I didn’t want to be left in the cold black and white marble and granite room with my mother. Nothing had changed about how the kitchen looked to me.

  “Dari, what were you doing in the woods?” my mother asked putting her hand on my shoulder. I froze, feeling the coldness of her hand penetrate my shirt.

  “Helen, she’s not comfortable…” Grim began but my mother silenced him with a look.

  “Grim, are you going to tell me about my daughter after what the House did to my son?” Her voice was icy cold, like her hand felt on my shoulder, weighing me down. She had to move her hand. I didn’t like it there, like a claw holding me down.

  “I think we should take things calmly, one step at a time. Helen, I want you to look at your daughter for a moment, and tell me what you see,” Grim said slowly.

  I felt her hand tighten and my heart pound in my throat. She had to let go of me. Now. I saw her study me while I kept my eyes firmly on the wall and focused on holding very still.

  “Dariana, what’s wrong?” She asked sounding almost concerned. She dropped her hand from my shoulder and took a step away from me. I let out the breath I’d been holding. “Thank you, Grim,” she said reluctantly. “For a moment I forgot about the touching.”

  The touching? Oh right. I closed my eyes as I remembered the invisible no touching sign that had been hung on me by Devlin my whole life, well, most of it anyway. Was that why it bothered me? I’d been okay with Grim taking my pulse. He had asked permission though.

  “She should get some sleep,” Grim said gently and gave my mother a smile before he turned and walked out of the house. “Sweet dreams,” he said, and then he was gone.

  “Night,” I said and headed up the stairs ignoring my mother’s gaze on my back. I felt like I was coming apart in every direction. I didn’t know which way to start unraveling first. When I got to my room I lay in my bed staring at the ceiling while memories of Devlin pounded through my head. Devlin and I were laying on the grass on the ledge over the river throwing leaves down to watch them spin until they were rushed away by the water; his hand ruffled my hair, the only hand that ever touched me. It hurt to think of him. Finally I fell asleep.

  I slept deeply until the dream began. First came the noise, a scream that combined the sounds of nails scraping a chalkboard with a lion’s roar. In the darkness two red spots were all I could see, glowing coals that grew larger, steam coming out of its nostrils. It opened its mouth revealing curving fangs before another scream ripped out its throat. I put an arm over my face and felt the sharp cutting agony as the monster’s teeth ripped through my sleeve and skin, cleaving flesh all the way to the bone. I screamed as the burning shot up my arm, struggling to get away.

  I sat up startled in my own bed. The moon shone into my room, and I made out piles of my clothes on the floor. Since when had my mother allowed my room to get messy? I pulled back the covers and gripped the mattress with my fingers trying to indent the feel into my hands. It was only a dream. I’d heard about dreams although I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had one. It was only a dream. Monsters didn’t really exist.

  I rubbed my arm and wondered how a dream could seem so real that my bone still ached even after I was awake. I got up and pulled on a hoodie, then walked down the hall to stop outside my mother’s bedroom door. I stood there for a moment undecided when I heard a vehicle roar up the street, obscenely loud in the still night. The engine cut off with a jerk in front of my house, and a door slammed. I heard footsteps across the hall downstairs and my mother’s voice. I followed the sound of voices down the stairs until I could make out her silhouette in the doorway.

  “Satan, what did you find?” she asked pulling her white robe tighter around herself.

  I sat down on the fourth step of the grand staircase and could make out the shape of a large deformed vehicle parked in the driveway. I saw the flicker of a lighter, and the glowing cigar showing beneath the shadow of his hat. Satan stood in between the front door and his car, as if uncertain which way he was headed.

  “I found the remains of some scavengers and a couple other ordinary animals. It was difficult to make out much in that fog.” The quality of his voice had not improved.

  “There was no fog,” my mother said.

  Satan shrugged. “I couldn’t find my coat.”

  My mother sounded irritated. “You lost Dariana, you have no idea what happened or who lured her out of the house when your entire purpose here was to protect her, at least that’s what you claim. Now you say you got lost
in a fog trying to find your precious coat when…”

  “It felt Nether,” Satan said with a growl cutting her off. “I don’t know that she was lured out. I’ve heard stories of Nether, what they can do, what their blood is like, the things they do with other people’s blood…”

  “What does that have to do with anything?” My mother’s voice was gradually rising.

  “Your daughter bit me and then used one of my favorite moves on me.”

  My mother was silent for a moment. “What are you saying? She tried to fight you?”

  “She didn’t try. She broke my arm clean in two. That skinny little thing is not remotely defenseless. Why don’t you tell me where she got that kind of ability? It’s Alex, isn’t it? You had kids with a freaking Nether.”

  “You’ve known him for years. He’s not like that. Anyway, it’s none of your business. The House disowned me. I don’t have to explain anything to you!”

  “You may have left the house, but you took your blood with you. You can’t have Wild blood and no House. That’s not how things work. It’s getting bad all over. You think you can hide out here but all you’re doing is refusing to prepare for what you know is coming.”

  “Oh yes. The great ending. The cataclysmic destruction. The imminent end of life as we know it. I’ve heard the stories as often as you have, Satan. The War was supposed to end that problem, wasn’t it? But for some reason, it didn’t quite work out that way, did it? How many people have you slaughtered? Do you really think that’s going to help you or anyone else in the end? Out of all the brothers, you are so focused on destruction you’ve completely missed out on life. I know that death comes. I know that bad things exist, but you can’t fight it by becoming the enemy. Here I’ve created a world that can’t be touched. Maybe you don’t think that buying tranquility is worth the price, but what happened when my son left here? How long did he last? Not even a year. What does massive destruction matter if there isn’t anything to live for? Tell me, Satan. You would know.”

  “Devlin shouldn’t have died. There was no reason to think that he could be taken by a blood worker. I don’t understand it, and as soon as we’ve made sure Dari’s safe, we’ll be happy to take care of Devlin’s killer…” Satan had come closer to my mother, his voice harsh.

  “You think I want vengeance? I want my son to be alive! Why do you think more blood is ever going to make the tear in the world made by my son’s death smaller? And what do you mean ‘make sure Dari’s safe’? You mean wait until she’s dead.”

  “The girl’s not dying anytime soon. Whatever happened in the woods, whether possession or…” Satan turned his head and looked through the darkness of the hall to where I sat on the steps, a black shadow on the white carpet.

  My mother turned to look, and the intake of her breath sounded very loud. “Dariana, what are you doing up?” she asked with her hand at her throat.

  “I had a nightmare, and then I heard your voices. What are you guys talking about? What’s Nether?” I asked coming down the stairs to stand beside them.

  “A nightmare?” My mother’s voice was whispery.

  “See?” Satan said brusquely. “Soulless don’t have nightmares, do they?”

  “What does that mean?” I asked feeling frustrated by their apparent inability to listen to me.

  I heard the hum of an engine, much more quiet than Satan’s car had been. Satan turned and muttered something under his breath. I could hear it but I didn’t know what the sounds meant.

  “Looks like nobody’s sleeping tonight,” my mother said glancing from me to Grim where he was getting slowly out of his hearse. He looked unnaturally tall as he walked towards the house.

  “Hi, Grim.” I said.

  “Dariana, good morning. Very early morning, isn’t it,” he said squinting at the sky. “Your dad says hello.”

  “You got through to him? Thank you. What did he say?” my mother asked.

  “Alex thinks Dariana might like to spend the summer at his house,” Grim said. My mother looked relieved while Satan snarled.

  “So that’s what you were doing while I was in the woods trying to see a foot in front of me, without my coat? I thought you were doing something useful, something…”

  “Big brother,” Grim said coolly. “You like to work alone. I was in the position serving as Helen’s emissary to Alex regarding the boy’s death. Dariana’s condition was a natural extension of that. Look at you; you don’t need a flimsy coat to protect you. What in the world could hurt you?”

  Everyone looked at me, and I swallowed. “So my dad wants me for the summer? Where does he live? What does Nether mean? What do you mean by calling me soulless?”

  “Good questions,” my mother broke in. She sounded like she was trying to be soothing but there was a hysterical strain behind it. “Those are the kinds of questions a father should talk to his daughter about.” She turned to Grim. “Did he say when he would come to get her? I think sooner would be better than later.”

  “He suggested that you bring her,” Grim said apologetically. My mother winced.

  “What, Helen, don’t want to leave your safe little world? What are you afraid of?” Satan asked.

  Grim put a hand on my uncle’s shoulder. “Alex is the girl’s father. I think that you’d agree that if anyone can explain things clearly to our niece, it would be him.”

  Satan looked down at Grim’s hand and then snorted. It was not a gentle sound. “Of course. Why not? But how will she get there? Oh, I know. She’s what, seventeen? So she has a license and can drive there herself.” He grinned at me, but it wasn’t a friendly smile. He looked like he wanted to eat me. I took a step towards him and found myself smiling right back at him.

  “Satan,” Grim said as he jerked on the back of his shirt collar. “I’ll drive. We’ll take your car. Behave. She’s family.”

  Satan made another revolting sound and shook Grim off. “Yeah. That sounds like fun. Why don’t we drive right through the gates of Alex’s little compound to deliver his cute daughter? I’m sure we’ll be welcomed with open arms.”

  Grim sighed. “He expects us. You’re already insane so you don’t have anything to lose.”

  Satan glared at Grim. “You sound like Helen. What’s up with you anyway? I haven’t heard you say more than two words in a row for years; now you won’t shut up.”

  “I can hardly compete with your fascinating conversation, Satan. I gave up trying years ago. Unfortunately, you seem to have lost the edge of your dazzling wit along with your coat.”

  Satan growled and shuffled off to his car. “Are we going then? No time like the present. Helen, you owe me.”

  My mother nodded, and Grim leaned closer to her and whispered. “I’ll see you soon little sister,” before he gave me an odd smile and ushered me out the door to Satan’s hulking monster of a car.

  2 Driving Me Crazy

  It was Satan’s car but Grim was driving.

  “You shouldn’t drive so fast in this weather,” I said holding tightly to the door handle. “Where are the seatbelts?” I asked searching the seat with my other hand. At the speed we flew over the wet pavement, it was suicide to go without seatbelts.

  “Seatbelts?” Uncle Satan asked then laughed, a sound that made me cringe. I wasn’t certain if it was me, the cigars, or if he’d always sounded like he was gargling gravel. “This car doesn’t need seatbelts honey. If we crash, nothing’s gonna save you.”

  His words made me feel much better. The hulking piece of scrap metal that barreled through the misty streets made noises that should have woken all the inhabitants of dear Sanders, or maybe it only sounded loud to me the way everything did. I could hear Satan’s raspy breathing and Grim’s dry, even. It wasn’t just their breathing. I could hear the sound of distant drums, their two hearts beating out of time, the ticking of Satan’s watch and the bright click of his lighter as he started on another cigar. The smell of it was overwhelming, like mildew, socks, tree bark. I couldn’t pin down that smell,
it was too complicated and mixed with the scent of leather seats and the two men’s sweat. Grim smelled like antibacterial soap. His scent was mild compared to Satan’s who filled the space with more than his massive bulk. Everything about him was overwhelming.

  “Have you driven this way before?” Satan asked Grim. He shrugged, his figure dim, but I could see him, mostly from the reflected light of the dials. Even from the back he looked defeated. “Great,” Satan said, leaning back, pushing his hat down over his face, then sitting up in a sudden movement that made me jump. “So Dariana, I meant to ask why you wandered off this evening. ”

  I shook my head and looked at the back of Grim’s head. “I took a walk. No big deal,” I said trying to sound like I went out for walks all the time in the woods at night.

  “Sure,” he said easily, grinning at me. “Ordinarily it wouldn’t be. I don’t care what people do, live and let live I say. Even killing folks gets old when you’ve been around it long enough.”

  “Satan,” Grim warned, but Satan just snorted.

  “Am I not allowed to tell the simple truth? You can’t tell me that death holds the same novelty for you as it did when you were fresh.” He turned to me and said in a whisper that wasn’t even slightly quieter than his regular voice. “As a doctor, you know, Grim sees more than his fair share of grim events.”

  Satan laughed while Grim sighed. “You never get tired of that old joke. Don’t pay attention to my brother, Dariana. If he were my patient, I’d diagnose him as clinically insane.”

  “So now you’re a shrink? Oh, Grim, that’s a good idea, you being my head doctor. Think of the things we could learn from each other.” Grim didn’t bother to reply. “So,” Satan said, like we were continuing a fun conversation. “I’m thinking maybe personality theory would help clear things up.” Grim groaned, but Satan ignored him. “I love personality theory. It doesn’t really make any sense, but for some reason that’s never bothered me. Tell me, Dariana, do you know what they call it when people change personalities all of a sudden, without any kind of reason?”