Hotblood

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Hotblood Page 6

by Juliann Whicker


  I let him pull me to a sitting position, but I kept my gaze locked on the back of Grim’s head. I still felt panicked. Exactly what had that been? It was just a look. It shouldn’t have shattered me. I took another trembling breath.

  Suddenly Satan shoved open his door, and it made a sound of scraping metal. Whoever had put the doors on this thing hadn’t been worried about sneaking up on anyone. He pulled me out of my door; otherwise I would have stayed huddled in the vehicle. When Satan relaxed his grip on my arm, I stayed close, glad he had such a large shadow I could hide in.

  “So, Alex,” Satan leaned on the top of the car, not seeming to notice the gouges and dents in the metal as he looked at my dad. “How’s it going? You look aggressive today.”

  “Do I? I beg your pardon. Welcome to the Woods. Both of you are welcome. You have my gratitude for bringing my daughter to me.” His voice was beautiful, low and smooth, but with an undercurrent to it that made me think Satan had better watch his step.

  “Yeah, too bad Helen didn’t make it, but she had things to take care of before Dari returns.”

  “I hardly expected her,” my dad said abruptly then sighed. “I mean that I am a little surprised that Dari came at all. Grim’s call was unexpected. Helen made it quite clear what she expected from me, or rather didn’t expect after Devlin...” Everyone stood quietly for awhile then Satan fumbled in his pocket for a cigar. “At any rate, it’s a pleasant surprise. Another surprise is how well Dariana looks.”

  Satan grunted. “Yeah. She’s not dead. She went out for a walk last night. There was lots of fog, kind of funny smelling, Netherlike. Now we’ve got either possession or, well, I have no idea. You got a real good look at her. What do you think?”

  I looked up at Satan and glared at him. I was right here. He didn’t have to talk about me like I was deaf or something.

  “Hotblood,” my dad said quietly. “She has all the obvious signs of holding a Hotblood soul.”

  Satan nodded. “Thought so. How exactly is that possible?” Satan asked then looked me over. “Never mind. I probably don’t want to know. A Hotblood, huh?” He looked at me and there was something soft around his mouth that made me scowl at him. That earned me a full grin that showed all his white teeth. “Well, that’s a shame. Next time I see her, she’ll be so controlled there won’t be any chance to watch her do anything interesting.”

  “You want her to break another limb? Of course you do. Why do I ask these questions?” Grim said as he opened his door. For all his confident talk about my dad, he’d taken his time to get out of the car.

  “Sylvester, thank you for bringing my daughter,” my dad said formally.

  “Not at all. It was entirely pleasant,” Grim said and Satan snorted.

  My dad looked at me. I could feel him looking at me but didn’t meet his gaze. I studied Grim’s legs in their nondescript trousers. They might have been black at one point but now were faded to a dark shade of gray. “Dariana…” my dad began.

  “She’s a little delicate at the moment. You should take it easy on her,” Satan cut him off. I looked at him. Was he trying to protect me?

  My dad laughed, a sound that made me want to laugh and cry at the same time. “I’ve never had trouble with diplomacy, Saturn.”

  Satan shrugged. “That’s good. You’re going to need it. Well, Dari, I guess this is where we say farewell, at least for now. Go on and shake his hand,” he said to me. I glanced at my dad from behind my hair and shook my head. “Oh, come on. You’ve already had the worst. You’re not scared are ya?”

  I jerked away from Satan and shoved my hand at my dad. “Hi,” I said, glaring at this stranger I should have known. I hated the way my heart ricocheted around in my chest while I could see the flicker of my dad’s pulse in his neck, could hear the beating of his heart that didn’t change for a minute. I took a deep breath. The smell of him made me think of pure water, of streams running quick and sure. This time when I met his gaze, his eyes were beautiful, like water running over rapids, specks of gray and blue. But that’s all they were, at least for the moment.

  He grasped my hand in a smooth movement which I barely saw. His hand felt cool on my skin before he let go.

  “You must be feeling overwhelmed,” he said gently. I shrugged while Satan muttered something under his breath. “You don’t remember what happened in the woods?” I looked into my dad’s eyes and felt more peaceful and calm than I had since I’d found myself walking home without knowing where I’d been.

  “Satan thinks I hurt someone.” I was surprised how matter-of-fact I sounded. I didn’t feel calm. I wasn’t angry, but still, every time I turned my head everything was so bright and distracting. Why had I said Satan thought that? How could I know what Satan thought? I was still waiting to wake up—any time now.

  My dad glanced at Satan, and Satan shrugged. “I didn’t say that exactly. I just wanted to know whose blood was under her nails.”

  “Your opinion,” Grim said.

  “It’s what I thought. Honesty is a virtue.”

  “So is diplomacy,” my dad said wryly.

  “One virtue at a time,” Satan said.

  My dad shook his head and sighed. “Was there anything besides traces of blood to make you think my daughter harmed something?”

  “Satan found the remains of some creatures in the woods, and he thinks you’re Nether.” I said it in that same voice. Matter-of-fact. There was something wrong with my voice. I felt another wave of calm, of cool, and the rising panic faded, or at least was pushed back.

  “Really?” My dad smiled at Satan and I noticed how sharp and bright his teeth looked. “Do you think that has something to do with how my daughter wound up with a Hotblood soul?”

  Satan shrugged. “You’d know more about it than I would. I can’t believe I never noticed before, but you reek of Nether. No offense. Like Devlin, I suppose she’s got the genetics to rip out someone’s soul. After that she did something bloody.”

  Bloody? I closed my eyes and for a moment the smell of something, of the blood beating through Satan’s veins, blocked out everything.

  “Is there anything else?” my dad asked.

  I answered. “I can smell blood. Satan’s, Grim’s, and someone else’s, behind those bushes,” I said pointing. This time my voice came out cracked, like I felt. When I opened my eyes, I looked towards the house and my dad turned his head.

  “Ethel, come and meet my daughter.”

  Ethel? The woman who came into view looked into my eyes with clear gaze. She was older than my dad, her wiry gray hair in a high bun, only a few strands sticking out around her face. Her sharp blue eyes studied me. “You’re certainly scrawny. I’d better do something more for breakfast than I’ve got planned.”

  “Dariana, this is my housekeeper and cook. Ethel, we will need some meat, the fresher the better.” My stomach growled at the mention of fresh meat, and I swallowed hard. I’d been a vegetarian my whole life. Why did the idea of something I’d never had appeal so strongly to me? I could hear Ethel’s heart rate steadily increasing while she stood there seemingly at ease, but her heart…

  She nodded then gave Satan a look. He gave her a sheepish grin while her eyes narrowed. “Mr. Slide, you are playing the role of escort for a young girl? What is the world coming to?”

  “Hi, Ethel. Good to see you,” Satan said. He looked very uncomfortable. Ethel snorted and turned back to the house and was out of sight in a few steps but I could hear her heart beating a brisk tempo as she went.

  “Since breakfast won’t be ready for some time, would you rather walk around the grounds or explore the house? Maybe you’d like to stretch your legs after such a long drive before you return to your work,” my dad suggested to my uncles. I followed him, glancing at Satan and Grim. Grim looked cautious and Satan looked irritated. I still had no idea why I was there. I opened my mouth to ask him why he left my mother, why he left us, but nothing came out. I took a deep breath of the cool morning air, studying the trees
as we followed the gravel drive past the house. The road ended and a path led away from the house through the woods. I walked towards the trees but my legs were shaky. I felt irrationally furious at legs that were tired after such a short walk. I gritted my teeth and walked faster. Soon I saw a weatherworn bench beneath a large tree. I tried not to collapse on it. I was still tired from last night. I leaned my head back, looking up into the swaying branches while my head rested on the rough bark and tried not to notice the sympathetic expression on my dad’s face.

  “If you don’t mind, we’ll walk a little farther,” Satan growled and stalked off. Grim shrugged and followed him.

  “Stay on the path and you won’t get lost,” my dad said, a trace of amusement in his voice.

  I stared up at the swaying leaves and felt as dizzy as if I were up there swirling around in the wind. “Do you think I hurt someone? Why can’t I smell your blood? What am I doing here?” The questions came out rushed and weak. I tightened my grip on the bench and realized how much I was shaking.

  “I think it’s very unlikely that the blood on you belongs to anything human. Satan is right that you are my daughter. As my daughter it would be impossible for you to harm an innocent. I know how terrified you are, but I want you to know how glad I am to see you talking, asking questions, feeling something. It’s been so long since I saw those eyes full of anything besides emptiness. Do you know the saying, ‘the eyes are the windows to the soul’? Ever since you were six your eyes have been vacant.”

  Fighting down tears, I closed my eyes. “Yeah, thanks.” It felt like a dream sitting there in my dad’s woods, but it couldn’t be a dream unless what I’d had in the car had been real. Both realities couldn’t be real but maybe both could be dreams. I shook my head but the memory of the dream stayed with me, not just the color of his warm eyes but the feeling in my stomach that might have been flu.

  “You’re smiling,” my dad said.

  “Oh.” I leaned foreward.

  “It’s good to see you smile,” he said gently.

  “I was just remembering a dream I had.”

  “I…see. That’s wonderful. You’re having dreams?”

  I shrugged. It seemed like a little thing. Most people had dreams. Snowy went on and on about hers sometimes. I wouldn’t bore my dad with mine. I didn’t really like how friendly he acted, like he was someone who cared about me, not someone who’d left and never come back. I swallowed trying to choke back some of the anger that was stirred at the memory of my father’s abandoning his family.

  “I do not mean to pry, but perhaps if you tell me about your dream, something will come out to tell us what happened last night. Often, if we block things out, our subconscious remembers and lets them come out in our sleep.”

  I shook my head feeling frustrated. “It didn’t have anything to do with the woods. I wish I knew what happened. If I knew then I’d have something to work with. It isn’t normal to be able to smell blood inside people, is it? Is it normal to forget things? Satan told me about a Hotblood who was a danger to society and himself. You said I’m a Hotblood?”

  “You seem to have some characteristics outside your normal nature. Normal for you would be much different than normal for other people. Your family is very special and so are you.”

  “Special. Okay. Thanks. The thing is, I don’t feel special; I feel more messed up than anything. What is Nether anyway? What was that creepy thing you did to me when I got here? I’m so irritated, and I have no idea why I’m here anyway. I mean, you’re supposed to explain stuff to me, but I don’t even know what it is I’m supposed to know!” He squeezed my hand and I realized my voice had been getting louder, accusing him, when I didn’t know enough to be angry.

  “It’s all right to be frustrated. You’ve had a very rough time of it. We may as well start with clear expectations. I don’t expect you to be fine. No one who’s been through what you’ve been through for the last nine and a half years is going to be fine right away. You’re going to have to adjust to an entirely new way of facing the world. Death is hard for everyone to cope with, but to deal with betrayal and all from the precarious position of a Hotblood soul. No. I don’t expect you to be fine. Now. You will get better though. I promise that when you leave here you will have direction and control.”

  “Thanks. I don’t know why you’d care now if you didn’t care before when I was okay.”

  “You haven’t been okay for a long time, Dari.”

  “You’re right. I wasn’t okay after you left. I remember that day, standing on the curb with mother. You just drove off and never looked back. I remember how sad Devlin was.” I bit my lip to keep from crying. “But that’s okay because now that I’m screwed up you’re going to fix me. Thanks a lot.” He squeezed my hand harder and I jerked it out of his grip. I found myself standing, trembling from a mixture of grief and anger. “It’s good that your expectations are clear. Here are mine. You’re not going to act like the father I always needed but never had. You’re not going to act like you can fix the fact that Devlin is dead and isn’t coming back. You ruined everything when you left, and now you think that you can fix everything just because I’m lucky enough to spend some time with you.”

  “Dari, I didn’t want to leave.” His eyes shone like he had tears in them.

  “I’m sure you just couldn’t stand the sight of us, poor you.”

  “I couldn’t watch you die.” The words were like knives cutting me deep, even though I didn’t know why. “You were dying and I left. Helen accepted Devlin’s behavior and I had no choice but to leave.”

  “You had no choice but to leave? I’m not dying! Devlin was the best brother a girl could have. He drove me everywhere. He was always there to talk to me and make me feel normal, to keep me warm.”

  “He took your soul, Dari. He took your soul and barely kept you alive.” He looked so sad, so heartbroken that I almost believed him.

  “No. Devlin didn’t take anything away from me. He took care of me. He took care of everybody. He was always the one who was there after you left. He was just a little boy, just a kid, and he would talk to mother when she wouldn’t talk to anyone else. He’d fix dinner and make things so they were okay. He was there and you were gone and now you’re telling me that he hurt me? You’re the only one who hurt me, not Devlin.”

  “Dari,” he said.

  “No! This whole thing was a mistake. I can’t stay here anymore. I hate you!” When he put his hand out to touch me, I felt a rush of mindlessness as my body moved of its own volition, gripping my dad in a way close to how I’d taken Satan. I held him down and could hear the bone of his arm creaking. No. I wasn’t going to break his arm. Instead I threw him as far away from me as I could. It seemed like slow motion as he hurtled through the air and slammed into a tree before he slid down the trunk to lie crumpled on the ground.

  I tried to understand why there was a dark stain on the ground around his head. I tried to block out the smell of blood that was different, more pungent to my senses than anything else. I had tried not to break his arm. I had tried not to hurt him. In a panic I looked around the clearing for help. Grim was a doctor. I started to run in the direction my uncles had gone.

  As I ran, the feeling of blood pounding through my limbs fed the mindlessness. The faster I forced my body to move, the more my thoughts slowed down. I ran faster and faster, barely aware of the trees that whipped past me. Blood. I remembered the smell of blood, but the rest of what happened became distant, unreal. There wasn’t any reason to the running. Movement was everything. When I smelled the animal, my body changed direction towards it.

  My body was weak; I could feel the heart fluttering in my chest, hardly able to keep up with the pressure of the pounding blood. It was an irritation soon forgotten when I heard another heart pounding. My body was clumsy but I pressed it, forcing it to move towards the heat and warmth of that life. As my body ran, faster than I’d ever dreamed my body could move, I saw a flash in the distance, a flash accompanied
by the sound of crashing through the underbrush, of running. I didn’t think I could move any faster, but the fury drove my body on.

  Trees and bushes blurred as I sped towards my prey. I was as out of control of my body as when I’d attacked Satan or my father, but this was much closer, much more intense. I ran along the top of a slope and let out a scream as I leapt through the air and landed on the animal, bringing it to the ground with my momentum. The coyote twisted as it struggled to throw me off. I caught the muzzle and jerked its head back, ripped through its fur and tendons with my teeth.

  Blood.

  The smell was different outside, steaming in the air. It was sweet but bitter at the same time. Air disappeared; everything was blood.

  ***

  This dream wasn’t the same. Instead of being inside someone with warm eyes that gazed back at me, there was darkness, the smell of wind as it whipped the black cloak around me. I rode the monster from my nightmare.

  Its burning red eyes rolled in its head while steam came from its nostrils. The open mouth showed me curved fangs as it screamed. The sound pierced me, cutting me through like my dad’s gaze as strands of hair whipped my face and I bent lower over the back. Shadows danced around me as we sped through the woods. I felt the heat of the creature beneath me, the muscles enclosed in black velvet against my skin, unseen, wrapped in shadows.

  I felt a jerk and watched from a distance as they ran over the forest floor, racing against the moon. The speed, the wind, the smell of the creature all combined to fill me with a burning. I wanted to ride again. I wanted the wind, the power, the darkness to swallow me. I wanted it with a growing ache.

  3 Genetics and Other Excuses for Killing Something

  I looked around the room, blinking away the image, the hunger. I moved my arm and winced, feeling the tug of the needle. I glanced down, following the tube to a bag of blood that hung on a long pole. I was getting a blood transfusion? The room’s corners were shadowy, but I could see my dad in a comfortable looking chair with a lamp on the table beside him, illuminating the book in his hands. His glasses were perched on his nose and for a moment he looked at me over the lenses before he slowly lowered them with his long graceful fingers.

 

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