He looked away from her and added two more chunks to the fire. It burned brightly and became hot.
*
Cyn
Cynthia watched the two of them jammed together like sardines and smiled. She was happy for Julia and Jason. They'd been two peas in a pod since fourth grade and Jules'd had it tough, she deserved the happiness. They made a cool couple. Jason was six-foot two and towered over Jules at only five-four but she never seemed short. Cynthia had never met anyone more alive, more independent. It was amazing her Aunt Lily had picked up the torch after Jules' parents passed. Cynthia had to admit that Lily rankled her ass sometimes too. She was so strict on Jules, like she'd ever do anything? Hell, she was a secret prude. She hadn't even done the deed with Jason. Dating three years and nada.
There's willpower for ya!
She looked up through her mascaraed eyelashes at Kevin, her steady and at-hand date for prom and sighed. He was absolutely hot. She wasn't letting him get away. Cynthia had all the titillating details for Jules later. She'd act bored and then listen raptly while she dished on her love life. A slight frown bunched her eyebrows together. She'd have to ride Jules' ass about going to Soldotna and picking out a prom dress. She was insisting on Vegas for the wedding (she was sure to get out of getting a dress). Cynthia did a mental eye-roll. But Jules wasn't getting out of prom. Cynthia had tried to talk Jules out of marriage for shit's sake. I mean, what, she'd been eighteen for six months? What's the rush? Cynthia thought it had something to do with both her parents being killed when she was young. It had really scarred her. She wanted something to hang on to, something tangible and real.
Cynthia wasn't sure getting married at eighteen was the answer. But even she had to admit, she couldn't do wrong with Jason. He worshiped Julia. She looked at the two of them together as she snuggled in next to Kevin and watched Jason touch Jules, cupping her face like a fragile egg as they began to kiss.
“Looks like they've got the right idea, Cyn,” Kevin said, waggling his eyebrows.
Cynthia gave him a mock punch. “You just want to get lucky!”
“There is that,” Kevin replied, only half-joking.
“Ah-huh, that's what I was talking about.”
He dipped his head and gave her a peck on the lips and she turned on the rough driftwood log where they were perched, the warmth of the fire beating against her back and drew him against her. His mouth found hers and they twined themselves against each other. The sky lingered above them as black velvet with stars sprinkled about.
*
dress-up
Julia thought she'd slit her wrists if she had to try one more dress on. She paced the room in a huff. She should have never said yes. Cyn had her dress-napped the instant they came into the boutique. Remember, Fashion Aware. Of course, everything looked good on Cyn. With her tall, lanky frame, she could get away with anything. She'd chosen a shell pink, full length gauzy thing that made her look like a princess.
Or, a queen, judging by the way she was beating the hell out of Julia with her scepter.
“Come on Jules, I'm thinking one more?”
“NO! I promised I'd try on dresses. For you! Now look, what is this... number fifteen?”
Cyn had the grace to look ashamed, flashing both hands twice.
“Twenty!” Julia all but shrieked.
“Right. Well... you're totally hard to find something for! I mean, who has your coloring anyway?”
Julia huffed, her eyes taking in the pile of gowns growing in the corners like obscene shrouds. “Okay... one more. Then we pick whatever from the pile!” Julia said, her palm striking out at the material like it was alive.
“Okay. But if you're only gonna try on one more dress, it's going to be green.”
Julia groaned. She hated green.
Cyn brought out her hands in supplication. “I know you hate green but just trust me, K?
*
Cyn
Cynthia insisted on she and Jules going together to prom so they could make their grand entrance and blow the dudes away. She'd also taken the initiative and ragged Julia's ass until she caved and let her do the make-up and hair for both of them. She wasn't letting her bestie into prom with anything resembling hippie chic. Julia was going to look put together and polished if it was the last thing Cynthia did.
Cynthia dug around in her huge purse until she found her makeup bag and dragged it out, throwing it on Julia's vanity with a resounding smack.
Julia eyed it warily. Pointing to it she asked, “what's all that crap in there?”
“Make-you-beautiful-stuff.”
The corners of Julia's mouth turned up. “That's a technical term, right?”
“Hell yeah!” Cynthia enthused with a wink.
Julia sighed, she knew she'd look like a French whore by the time Cyn was done with her but she'd released the reins and Cyn was firmly in charge of Prom Fashion. She had an errant thought wondering about what Jason was up to. Definitely not this.
“Woman-up, Jules! I'm not taking a skin graft or something. Seriously, you act like you've never worn makeup before.”
There was a significant silence.
“Okay, that was sorta lame. You, the makeup queen.”
Julia slouched and Cyn poked her in the back. “Posture, princess.”
Then she set to work. Foundation, powder, eyeliner... false eyelashes.
False eyelashes!
“No way! I am not putting that crap on my own eyelashes.” Julia stared at Cynthia in a huff.
“How about just a few on the outer edge? It'll make your eyes look bigger.”
“They're big enough,” Julia thought, if they were any bigger she'd be a toad.
“They're ginger-colored! You can hardly see them,” she wheedled.
Julia shook her head. “No. Just... put the brown mascara on and be done with it.”
Cynthia sighed, defeated. She made it a point to spend a ton of time on each eye, finally swiveling Julia around in her chair to look at her reflection.
Julia stared.
And stared some more.
A slow smile spread on Cynthia's face. “See, Jules? You're a goddess, who was to know!”
Julia couldn't believe the transformation. The mossy green of the dress set off her hair, making the red in it look like molten champagne. Her eyes sparkled like gold topaz, gems in a pale face with shimmering lips in a pouty apricot. She opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.
“You can tell me now,” she said, smug.
Julia turned from her reflection and scowled at Cyn.
Cynthia waited.
Well-hell. “You're the greatest.”
Cynthia grinned. “I know, doll-face.”
Julia rolled her eyes. What was Jason going to think of her in this get-up? With the make-up and.... everything? Julia rolled her glossed lip into her teeth and nibbled anxiously.
Jason waited impatiently for Julia to arrive. He knew he should have nixed the lame Plan of the Girls. Them going together! Retarded. He'd let Kevin convince him it was easier not to fight Cynthia.
“Listen man, just let them. I don't want to deal with Cyn when she gets a head-o-steam about girl shit, you feel me?” Kevin had said.
“What's so flaming-ass important that I can't pick Jules up?”
“I told ya, they're putting the masks and garb on.”
“What?” Jason asked, confused. He was already feeling gay in a tux, the bow around his neck was a slowly encroaching noose. He tugged at it again.
“Hey! Don't dick with that, it screws up the gig.”
“What's a gig?” Jason asked, messin' around with the stupid noose.
“It's... damn-man! Leave it alone!” Kevin said, slapping his hand away impatiently. He took either side of the corners of the bow tie and aligned them with Jason's Adam's apple.
There, Kevin thought. He wondered if his ass-hat friend could leave it alone for the next two hours.
Probably not.
“It's a military term...
it means to keep all your accessories in line with the middle of your body,” Kevin said in a matter-of-fact way.
“That's great, Kev. I'll sleep better knowing your ramrod dad gave you a few pointers.”
“Hey jag-up, Dad served our country and has a few pearls of wisdom once in awhile.”
“Along with some colorful vocabulary.”
“No shit, right?” Kevin said, totally missing the irony.
Jason smiled and shook his head as they hopped into Kev's car.
They made their way to the last dance they'd ever attend.
*
Jason
Kevin caught sight of Julia and elbowed Jason.
They looked at the girls as they entered the gymnasium where fake acrylic stars danced above their heads like wayward diamonds.
Jason couldn't take his eyes off of her. The breath left his body in one, exhaustive rush.
Jules was drop-dead gorgeous.
Jason knew that people said that all the time about chicks, sometimes dudes even. But Julia floated inside the auditorium on a cloud of emerald vapor, her dress the color of green kissed by autumn... and stunned him into silence.
Her hair looked almost red, its normal gold color boosted by the pine of the dress, her eyes a sparkling gold. They took up half her face.
He still couldn't look away.
She walked toward him slowly and he noticed the dress showcased how curvy she was. She wasn't a twig and she wasn't heavy. Jason took in a shaky breath, his eyes on her hourglass figure as she moved toward him.
He noticed all the other guys were staring at her too and frowned.
Julia reached him just as he put his hands out for her and his face smoothed.
He pulled her closer and leaned down until his jaw brushed her temple. “You're beautiful,” he whispered against her fragrant skin.
Julia knew she looked beautiful.
She didn't need a mirror to tell her.
Jason's eyes told her.
They moved out to the dance floor, their hands knotted together, their gazes locked.
Julia waited in her bed with bated breath. Jason had dropped her off from prom and promised to sneak in her bedroom window later.
Much later.
Aunt Lily had the irritating habit of checking in on her.
Julia clutched her cell in one hand so she could text Jason the instant she did.
She laid on her side for, she swore, ten hours. Finally, Lily opened the door a crack and, seeing that Julia appeared asleep, closed it softly behind her.
Julia let a long breath out, texting Jason.
He must have been waiting outside her house like a good stalker-boyfriend and she let him in as he stumbled from outside the window.
“Damn! I won't miss that anymore. No more nut-cruncher windowsill for me!”
Julia cocked and eyebrow. “We wouldn't want your, ah, nuts crunched. No, that wouldn't do,” Julia said in a low, teasing voice.
“Come here,” Jason said, thinking about how he'd kiss that smirk off her face. She was killing him. Standing there in her pajama bottoms and a cami. Her hair was still loose and curled from prom, the makeup still on.
“Aren't you supposed to take all that crap off your face?”
She scrunched her nose in that way he loved and said, “Nah, pillowcase will get rid of it.”
“Really?” Jason asked, grinning. He walked over to her, admiring her in her post-prom glory.
“The dance turned out okay, Jules,” he said softly, bending to kiss the hollow between those sexy bones that intersected her neck.
She nodded, a little breathless as his breath moved over her pulse. She wound her arms around his neck and his lips traveled up to her jaw then made its way to her forehead. He began peppering her face with butterfly kisses, his lashes grazing her skin above his lips. Her breathing became shallower and Jason picked her up and carried her to the bed.
They lay together, head to hip, the heat of their bodies one hot line. He moved against her, his hands on her ribs, kneading her flesh as she wound a leg around his hip, their mouths moving against each other.
His hands traveled and Julia pulled away.
“Jason,” she whispered.
“What?” he said, never breaking from his sensual assault on her. She could hardly breathe, she just wanted... she wanted to finish what they started. But she wanted forever more.
She thought of her parents. Long gone. A thread that tied the fabric of her being together.
He paused and pulled back to look at her face, a sliver of moonlight a pale slash across her eyes.
He saw the expression there and pressed his forehead against hers.
“I know,” he moaned.
“I'm sorry,” Julia whispered. “It's not that I don't trust you.”
“I know,” he repeated against the skin of her forehead.
A lone tear escaped her eye and Jason caught it, staring into those eyes. Those eyes that he'd looked into for a decade.
“I want to be married. It's what my parents would have wanted,” she said and Jason felt her tremble against him. He silently promised to make her first time extra special. It'd be perfect if it killed him.
“You still miss them,” he asked as a statement, tightening his hold on her.
“Every day,” she replied through eyes that had glossed with a sheen of tears.
He smiled. Jason wanted her so damn bad. It wasn't just sex, he could have tapped any mindless alley cat in the school.
She was his and he was hers. Jason knew Jules was the one he wanted from the moment he saw her.
He leaned down and kissed the crescent-shaped scar on her forehead, the only thing that marred her perfect skin.
He could wait. He could wait forever if it meant being with her.
They lay together in each other's arms until dawn shattered the darkness into a million pieces of golden orange, rose and scarlet, flinging the colors about the room like so much broken glass.
CHAPTER 3
Present Day
Liquid lapped Julia and the water parted, ice replacing the subtle undulation of comfort she'd been under.
She came to the surface of her consciousness in a nauseating wave. She became aware that she was drowning.
Drowning in hunger and weakness. She didn't have the strength to move. Loud voices assailed her. They floated around her, stabbing at her consciousness until she finally understood where she was.
If she'd had the strength, she would have wept.
The creatures that had stolen her life away were arguing about her again.
“I am phoning him. Gabriel must be made aware of what is happening here!”
Julia cracked open her eyes, wide and grainy, her mouth felt like the Sahara Desert. She was so thirsty her bones ached with it. How long had she been out?
“She is killing herself,” the one named William said. His fists were clenched and anxiety tightened his already stark features.
“Call him. Ask him what we must do. If she is as important as you hypothesize, it is necessary, no?” Pierce queried reasonably.
She lay perfectly still but they heard a change in her breathing and turned their silvered eyes to her.
She had just enough energy to lift her forearm and cover her eyes. She would not look at them.
“Just kill me,” she said listlessly. Without Jason, why go on? She couldn't bear to think of all of it right now. The shards of that nightmare would not be a memory she would look at any time soon.
If ever.
She didn't hear them approach but an icy hand clamped around her forearm gently and moved it off of eyes that ran with tears. Julia was surprised she had enough tears to shed. Her mind was so beleaguered with grief she could hardly breathe. Why didn't they just kill her now?
After all, that's what they were good at.
Killing.
William tapped his cell to hibernate and pocketed it inside the jacket he wore. He breathed out in an elaborate exhale. They to
ok a chance implementing this protocol. If they did not follow it to the letter, they would lose her.
This girl. The Blood Singer from the Book of Blood.
The Rare One.
He gave Pierce a full look as they walked together toward the girl.
Julia watched them come, one dark and one light. Angels. They looked like angels.
Angels of death.
Her arms long ago released, she lay there, unable to move a muscle. Only her eyes rolled in their sockets, tracking their approach.
William crouched down, feeling the hollow on the underside of her wrist, where a thready pulse beat. “She is close, it is a near thing.”
Pierce nodded. “It must be you. You are the one with Singer heritage coursing through your veins. Maybe you can bring her back.”
William had hoped that she would come around these past months. But they could tarry here no longer. The Were drew near, circling like sharks in water saturated by blood. This coven grew restless with her presence, Blood Singers were a stick to stir the cauldron of trouble. He had already waited too long. She was weak, compromised.
Julia looked up at him with eyes of liquid gold and he breathed through his mouth, hoping the scent of her would not impede what he must do.
It was a risk he must accept.
Julia saw William look at her intently and kept her eyes open with effort. Something was building, it thrummed deep in her bones like a call. Julia whimpered. She hated to be weak but knew what they were capable of. She watched as his eyes drank in the sight of her. Then his fangs elongated, escaping his mouth. She opened her own to scream and nothing came out.
His eyes tightened at her expression as he tore into the flesh of his own wrist. Black blood began oozing out of his damaged forearm and flowed down, dripping onto her neck. The droplets splattered like hot candle wax on her skin.
“Drink,” William said, lowering his wrist down to her mouth.
She shook her head, with her ebbing strength she clamped her lips together.
William's eyes flicked behind her and he grunted, frustrated.
“Hold her,” he said with a voice filled with regret.
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