Blood Song: Refrain (Blood Song Series Book 2)

by Charli B. Rose

  “For what?” I whispered as I looked him square in the eyes. I had an inkling of what he felt bad about, but sadistically, I wanted to make him say it.

  He drew in a deep breath and averted his gaze. “For starting something on our date and not finishing it, for running away, for keeping my distance for thirty-six hours—which felt like an eternity, by the way—for hurting you, for being me, for leading you on, for a thousand wrongs, take your pick . . ..” He shrugged as his voice trailed off.

  I never expected him to expose himself so much in his answer. I needed to think over all the things he was sorry for that he should be, and I really needed to examine the things he thought he owed me an apology for that weren’t wrongs. But in that moment, I didn’t have time to compose a proper answer, so I said the only thing I knew to be true in that moment, “I forgive you, and I’m so glad you’re here now.”

  I laced my fingers with his free hand and lifted our linked hands to my lips so I could press a kiss to the back of his hand. With my words, the air in the elevator lifted. The tension and wariness eased, replaced with lightness.

  “So, what’s on the agenda for this afternoon?” I asked, keeping my fingers laced with his.

  “I thought you might like your first riding lesson.”

  The words were so nonchalant, but my mind immediately went to the gutter. Heat stole across my chest and up my neck, coloring my cheeks. I wanted a riding lesson all right, but I was quite certain that wasn’t what he had in mind. I felt the need to tease him a bit when I saw his smirk out of the corner of my eye. He’d obviously read my dirty mind.

  I lifted a brow at him. “So, who will I be riding?” My teeth captured the corner of my lip in an effort to trap the giggle threatening to explode from me.

  It was his turn to blush as a sound somewhere between a chuckle and a growl leaked from between his pursed lips. Huh, I didn’t know vampires could blush.

  “Against my better judgment at fostering a relationship between the two of you, I was thinking of putting you on Midnight. Normally, I’d never put a novice on him, but the way he responds to you is uncanny, and I know he’d never do anything to bring you harm.” His thumb traced patterns on the sensitive skin on the back of my hand.

  I jumped up and down with excitement. I’d been taking treats to Midnight every evening and we’d formed a friendship. He kept all my secrets and didn’t judge me.

  “I don’t have any proper riding clothes.” I realized with dismay.

  “You only need jeans, any old shirt and a pair of boots.” The elevator dinged as it landed on the ground floor.

  “That I can manage,” I said as we walked out of the building to his car.

  The ride home was filled with catching each other up on our day apart, much like a normal couple would do. I had to constantly remind myself we weren’t like a normal couple. It was getting more challenging to remember.

  Dressed to ride in a pair of faded blue jeans, an old T-shirt and a pair of boots, I met Toven by the back door. He was dressed in the same clothes he had on before, minus the tie and dress shoes.

  “You’re going to ride in that?” I asked dubiously. I might not know much about horseback riding, but that expensive suit was not proper attire.

  “I’m not riding at all. I’m giving you a lesson today, so I’ll be on the ground.”

  We took the path I now could navigate in my sleep through the garden maze, past the pruned rose bushes, to the corral. One of the horse trainers stood with a saddled and ready Midnight. When Midnight caught sight of us, he whinnied and pawed at the ground.

  Toven let out a hearty chuckle at my side. “I think he’s excited to see you.”

  “You think?”

  “Thanks, Jake. I’ve got it from here.”

  The trainer wandered back toward the open stable doors.

  We climbed through the wooden slats into the corral. Midnight nuzzled my cheek, making me giggle.

  Toven patted his shoulder and asked the magnificent beast, “Are you trying to move in on my girl, buddy?”

  His girl? God, why did those two small words—a handful of letters arranged in an inconspicuous way to form two ordinary words used thousands of times each day—have the power to set my heart to twittering like a bird trapped in a box trying to flap its way free?

  He’d used those two words once before, at the party when talking to Ace. But that was for show. He didn’t have anyone to show anything to right now. It was just the two of us and the horse.

  “Now, Midnight,” Toven said, taking the horse’s reins in his hands, “I’m going to allow you the privilege of giving my girl her first ride. Don’t show off and toss her off your back. Do you understand?” He tugged the reins around, so the horse looked him in the eyes. I could’ve sworn Midnight understood every word Toven spoke because the horse dropped his head submissively.

  Toven went through a whirlwind description of each piece of gear that adorned Midnight’s muscular body. My mind was still looping over the two small words, so I prayed there wouldn’t be a quiz on terminology later. I noticed he’d looped the reins back up onto the saddle, hooking them on some part I’d missed the name of.

  “Are you nervous?” Toven interrupted my thoughts.

  I frowned. “About riding? Oddly enough, no. I’ve always had a love for these beautiful creatures. I just never had an opportunity to learn how to ride.”

  “Well, let’s remedy that now. Put your right foot in my hands, and I’ll boost you up.” He squatted, linking his hands together to create a foothold for me.

  As soon as my foot was in his hands, my body was bounced up. The quick upward motion caught me off guard, and I put a hand on his shoulder to steady myself before I grabbed hold of the front of the saddle. Swinging my free leg over Midnight’s back, I was seated with my legs dangling on each side.

  He patted my thigh. “Let me adjust the stirrups to fit your leg length.” With a few adjustments, my feet rested in the stirrups.

  I glanced down at Toven and was shocked by how far down the ground seemed. My breath panted out as my heart rate increased.

  Toven must have heard the change. “Celesta, what’s wrong?” His fingers gripped my thigh in a gentle squeeze.

  I swallowed hard. “I changed my mind about being nervous. I didn’t realize I was going to be so high.”

  “Deep breaths. Calm yourself. Animals can sense your nervousness. Here, take your hand and stroke Midnight’s neck. It will calm you and him.” Toven unclenched my fingers from the saddle and rested them against the velvety texture of Midnight’s neck.

  I did as he suggested, and surprisingly, it worked to center me and usher in a peacefulness.

  “Now, you communicate with your horse primarily with your body. The reins,” he explained while grabbing them and putting the knotted leather strips in my hands, “allow you to control his head. If you want him to go left, then use the reins to put a little pressure on the right side of his neck.” He demonstrated, and Midnight responded by turning his head to the left.

  I made a mental note. “OK. Sounds simple enough.”

  “If you want him to stop, pull the reins back toward your torso. You control his speed with your legs.” He rested his hand back on my upper thigh. The heat of his skin seeped down into my muscles and traveled farther up my leg to rest at the part of me that was straddling the magnificent beast, albeit not the one I wanted to be straddling, but the irony wasn’t lost on me.

  “You squeeze with your thighs and jostle him at his sides with your legs to get him to move. If he isn’t moving quickly enough, you squeeze again.” He gave my leg a squeeze, demonstrating the proper pressure.

  “So, it’s like shifting gears on a manual transmission?”

  “Exactly.” He smiled up at me. “I’m going to walk alongside you while you get a feel for the motion and get comfortable.”

  I swallowed hard and squeaked out, “OK.”

  “Remember, stay calm. He’ll take his cues from you.”
>
  I leaned over and stroked Midnight’s sleek neck and told him, “Bear with me, boy. I don’t have any idea what I’m doing.”

  He bobbed his head up and down, making Toven laugh.

  “Now, do all these things at the same time. Jostle his sides with your legs, softly shake the reins up and down, and tsk him with your mouth. Those are his three signals that you’re ready to ride.”

  I concentrated and did what Toven said. It was exhilarating when we began to move forward. We did several laps around the paddock. Once Toven felt I had the hang of it, he stepped to the side and let me do a couple of laps on my own. When I settled into the rolling rhythm of Midnight’s gait, I began to enjoy the view from the back of a horse immensely.

  “How are you doing up there?” Toven asked as we approached.

  “Great. Can we go for a run?” I asked eagerly.

  “I don’t think you’re quite advanced enough for that just yet.”

  Disappointment traversed my features.

  “But we do have time to go for a short trot together if you want,” he amended.

  “OK,” I readily agreed, though I wasn’t sure exactly what he meant.

  “Bring Midnight over to the gate then make him stop.” Toven walked to the gate and opened it. He perched atop the fence next to it.

  I brought Midnight to a halt right by Toven.

  “Scoot all the way forward. I’m going to swing up behind you,” he explained while he gripped the back of the saddle.

  I did as he said. Before I had time to contemplate what it would mean for Toven to be perched behind me, his heat was there, pressing into my back and legs. He reached his arms around me and grabbed the reins.

  “Normally, for riding double, I’d put you in back. But I feel better about your safety with you between my arms,” he spoke in my ear, sending a shiver racing down my spine.

  “What do I do?” I whispered.

  “Just hang on and enjoy the ride. I’ll control Midnight’s movements.”

  “OK.”

  “Ready?”

  I nodded. With a squeeze of his legs that I felt as easily as Midnight did, he guided us through the open gate.

  “All right, hang on to the saddle horn. I won’t let you fall.”

  I believed him completely.

  With the subtlest flick of the reins and a slightly harder squeeze against Midnight’s sides, we took off across the grassy field beyond the corral. It was a little scary but a whole lot thrilling. The wind in my face and Toven’s warmth behind me were a perfect combination. I squealed with delight. We only went a little way, and the galloping ride was over far sooner than I wanted it to be. Toven halted Midnight at the back entrance to the stables and gave a little whistle which had the stable hand running to take the reins. Toven jumped down, then lifted me from Midnight’s back.

  I stroked Midnight’s nose gently and thanked him for a great first ride.

  “That was . . . wow . . . so much more than I imagined it would be. That is something you should write a song about.” I tucked my wild hair behind my ears.

  “First times should always be that way. Inspirational,” he said, his words full of heat and intensity.

  I blushed, something that was quickly becoming my normal state of being. “Thanks for the lesson. I can’t wait to ride again.”

  “Let’s go get cleaned up for dinner.”

  A couple of short hours later, I excitedly dug through the bag of clubbing clothes Toven had procured from Jacque. The pieces which drew my eye instantly were lying in the top of the bag. I slipped on a flowing, layered black skirt, admiring the way it revealed a hint of curves with each shimmy. The shirt was sexy without looking slutty. It was a soft, shimmery blue blouse with a V-neck, revealing just enough cleavage to be interesting. But the feature I loved most about it was that the back and sides were pretty much ripped to shreds, leaving much of my skin visible through the loose horizontal strings. I hoped it would catch Toven’s eye. I knew dancing around in the club would cause the fabric to shift just enough to tease.

  As my excitement over going to a club with Toven rose, the scent of strawberries wafted around me. After my shower, I had used Sandra’s special scents to add a hint of strawberry to all my pulse points instead of just vanilla. With my trusty curling iron—a Christmas gift from my dad when I was thirteen—I began to put large waves in my long tresses. A chuckle slipped out at the memory. I’d never forget the disaster Dad made of my hair trying to teach me how to use it. We both laughed until we cried. We always felt Mom’s absence, but moments like that really drew glaring attention to it. Thankfully, my best friend’s mom had stepped up and taught me how to curl my hair and do my makeup.

  Oh, Dad . . . I miss you so much. I swear I haven’t forgotten.

  Clearing the sadness with a few quick blinks, I started my makeup. I decided to go light since I was certain I’d sweat half of it off before the night was over. Once I slipped in a pair of big hoop earrings and donned a pair of strappy sandals, my look was completed perfectly.

  Standing in front of the full-length mirror, I scrutinized my features, trying to imagine how Toven would see me. Would he find me sexy? I danced to imaginary music to see how the outfit looked as I moved. The shimmer of the shirt was hypnotic. Perfect. Maybe it would hypnotize him. I slipped on a stylish leather jacket, tucked my phone into my pocket and went off to find Toven.

  He was positioned at the bottom of the stairs waiting for me. I swallowed hard at the casual look of the man staring up at me. He was in dark slacks and a light green, button-up shirt. The top two buttons were undone, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. I’d never really seen him without a tie on. This was casual for the man who always looked at home in a suit—and his casual look was heating up my insides.

  “Seems like you’re always waiting on me,” I teased.

  He held his hand out to me. “I think there’s a country song about that.”

  ♪ Waitin’ on a Woman by Brad Paisley

  “You listen to country music?”

  “I listen to all types of music. I’ve written or contributed to songs in every genre.”

  I shook my head incredulously. “You always surprise me.”

  “Likewise. Shall we go?”

  I nodded and took his offered hand.

  Once we were settled in the car, I turned my body sideways and launched into all the questions churning in my mind. “So, have you written a heavy metal song?”

  “Lots. ‘Night Rage’, ‘Agony’, ‘Darkness Descends’, ‘Never-ending Night’,” he rattled the list off with little effort.

  “Wow, those are some big ones from the past few decades. How about rap?”

  “I haven’t ever written rap lyrics because I just haven’t ever wanted to create lyrics without a strong melody. Rap seems to be much more about the rhythm. But my song, ‘Injustice’ has been covered as a rap song. And I helped compose the backing track to a rather popular rap song from a few decades ago,” his tone was nearly bragging.

  My eyebrow lifted in curiosity. “Oh, really?”

  “Yeah. Maybe you’ll recognize it. Alright, stop. Collaborate and list—” His fingers tapped a beat on the steering wheel.

  “Wait a minute, you wrote, ‘Freeze, Freeze Baby’?”

  ♪ Ice Ice Baby by Vanilla Ice

  “I didn’t write the lyrics. I helped with the backing track.” He turned toward the city.

  “You worked with Chocolate Frost?” I couldn’t believe it. Though the rapper was considered a one-hit wonder, his one hit was huge.

  “He doesn’t go by that name anymore. He prefers Robert now.”

  “Wait a minute. Wasn’t there some big controversy about the tune of his backing track? Didn’t they accuse him of sampling that Kings’ rock song without paying for permission?” I shifted toward Toven, my knee brushing his hand resting on the console.

  “There was some debate about it. But I assure you there was no rip off. I should know . . . I wrote the me
lody used in both cases. The rock version first, of course. Rob approached me because he knew I’d helped with that melody of, ‘Beneath Compression’. He wanted to sample it. I had him rap for me and convinced him that if we added that extra beat, then it would be close without sampling the other song.” His explanation was so logical.

  ♪ Under Pressure by Queen

  “But of course, the critics had a field day with the alleged music theft.” I shook my head in disbelief at the media’s ability to blow up something so small.

  “Yes, but it was a marketing gift for both songs and their respective artists. Sales skyrocketed over the hint of scandal.”

  “Nice. So, do you have a song that you’re embarrassed to have worked on?” eagerness colored my tone. I wanted to know all of his secrets, all the nuances that made him this man I was inexplicably drawn to.

  His lips twitched upward as he glanced briefly at me. “What kind of song do you think I would be embarrassed to have contributed to?”

  I tapped my finger to my lips, thinking hard. “I don’t know, that song by those kids that were all brothers, something bop?”

  “That was a very catchy song. But no, I didn’t work on that one.” He slowed as we entered the city.

  “How about that country song, ‘Aching Breaking Heart’?”

  ♪ Achy Breaky Heart by Billy Ray Cyrus

  “That’s not the name, but no, I didn’t work on that either. And while I think there are songs people are embarrassed to let others know they like, I’m not one of those people. If a song speaks to me in any way—whether I connect to the lyrics, moved by the melody or find the beat fun—I don’t care who knows that I like it,” he said, his voice full of conviction and passion.

  “OK. I get that. I just can’t quite see you letting people know that you rock out to Brittany or Miley.” I tried to picture him singing along to “Party in the USA” or “Oops I Did it Again” in my mind.