Hotblood

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Hotblood Page 17

by Juliann Whicker


  “Honestly Satan,” I moaned, but there was a break in the tension. “It was pretty terrible.”

  “It’s high school, what did you expect?”

  I just shook my head. I’d expected it to be awful, but in all sorts of different ways.

  At home my mother’s nice black car was already parked in the spacious garage. I went straight to the kitchen and searched the fridge for something, anything, to eat. I found tofu salad. I only paused for a moment before I dug in.

  “Dariana,” I looked up at my mother. She stood in the doorway wearing a nice dress that looked more corporate than homey. “Would you take some tea with me in the living room?”

  I held my smile on my face by sheer force of will. “Sure mother. I’ll go sit on the couch.” The living room was white and black— white carpet, black shelves, white leather chairs and couches, black branches and stuff coming out of pots. It was very chic and cold. I wanted to get to my room and clean out my closet, to get settled into this world, to try to make it fit who I wanted to be and forget what I’d almost done to Harris.

  She came in holding a large glossy tray with oriental pictures on it, shades of black with red punctuations. The china was simple, white, and my mother poured the tea while I sat up straight on the couch, remembering the etiquette she’d drilled into me every day of my life. “How was school,” she asked passing me a cup.

  “It wasn’t as bad as it could have been,” I said taking the cup with an appropriate close-mouthed smile.

  “Do you think your subjects are going to be challenging enough for you?” It was so weird, the same questions as every other year on the first day of school, and yet, different answers for the first time I could remember.

  “Oh, I’m definitely going to be challenged this year. I talked to the counselor, and we worked out a new schedule for me which includes drawing, painting, sewing, and absolutely no math or science.”

  The room was quiet for a while as my mother sipped her tea, keeping her gaze focused on the depths of her cup. My mother’s mind, working with terrifying rapidity would be coming to the conclusion that she’d raised a completely worthless daughter. Well, that was my problem. I sat up even straighter and matched her silence.

  “That’s a sudden decision.”

  “Yes. I seem to enjoy making sudden decisions these days. I don’t want to think about science anymore. I know it’s your life, understanding the chemical makeup of things being the most exciting thing you can think about, but it’s dead to me. I don’t know what I want to do yet, but I’m pretty sure it isn’t in the sciences.”

  “I see.” She stayed quiet, and I forced myself to stay upright and still in the uncomfortable silence. She finally gave a slight nod. “You are your father’s daughter, and you have given science a genuine try. I’m proud of you. You have an excellent mind, and I’m sure whatever you end up pursuing you will succeed at it.”

  “Is that so important? Maybe I just want to be normal.” I winced. After my first day of school normal looked permanently out of reach.

  “I’m afraid you won’t ever achieve mediocrity, however much effort you put into it. Your genetics are against you.”

  I snickered, impressed with her self-importance. “Good to know I’ll only ever be completely evil.”

  It was a surprise when she smiled wryly. “Complete evil takes a level of ambition that I doubt you’re capable of.” Her smile disappeared. “I’ve taught you absolutely nothing about your family.”

  “My family or your family? They aren’t quite the same thing, Mother.” I sat staring at her and couldn’t help the words that came out of my mouth. I tried, but it was so ludicrous for me to be sitting here acting out a tradition that I’d certainly outgrown. “How could you do that?” My voice was only a whisper, but she heard it all right. She raised her eyebrow questioningly, and I elaborated. “My brother, how could you stand by and let my brother, your son, take my soul? How could you do that?”

  She closed her eyes and looked extremely delicate, very tired, but at the moment I didn’t feel much compassion for her. “Your brother was very persuasive.” She shook her head then sat up straight, looking directly at me. “I did it because I thought it was the best thing to do. I’d do it again.” Her voice was quiet but the words rang in the air.

  I stood up. “Then we have nothing to talk about.” I turned and left, making sure not to slam the door once I got to my room upstairs. I threw myself into cleaning. I made an enormous pile of black clothes in the hall outside my room, leaving my closet immaculate and empty. I got the vacuum from the hall closet and went over my closet again and again. It was clean, but I wasn’t satisfied. I started on my room, sticking the rug and blankets in my empty closet so I could go over the beige carpet. I shoved the bed against the wall and spent a long time focused on the ridges and dents the posts had made in the carpet. There was a knock and I looked up at Satan who stood in the doorway. I ignored him and focused on my task, vacuuming until I was satisfied. I pulled the bed back into place, handling my furniture like it wasn’t made out of solid wood. I used my muscles, glad to work out some of the fury.

  After I went over the corners of the ceiling one last time, I turned off the vacuum, straightened, and faced Satan. “Can I help you?”

  He grinned at me. “Do you know something? I’m getting the part where your dad says we need a home gym. You’ve got to have an outlet for that fury, don’t you?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I could find some way to work out the extra energy, something involving my mother…” I clamped my jaws shut while he shook with laughter. “Look, I’m not really in the mood right now, so if it’s all the same to you....”

  “You’re mad? You want an outlet? Come with me.”

  I sighed and followed him to the living room. There was no sign of my mother or her tea service. In the backyard I stood on the patio glaring at Satan, my arms across my chest just wanting to punch something. He walked around studying the landscape. The landscape consisted of meticulously trimmed shrubs. This matched the house; it was very formal. He walked behind a row of the shrubs and I followed him, irritated.

  “This is good,” he said and proceeded to take off his old coat and unbutton his shirt. I stared in awe at the massive body that was covered, absolutely covered, in tattoos twisting around on his skin like live snakes. If there was a pattern, I couldn’t make it out. His arms were massive, but the muscles were covered by the tattoos. The last thing to go was the hat. I stared at the bald, tattooed head in awe. He certainly made an impression as he stood there with the cigar in his mouth. I stared at him, distracted for a moment by the uncanny resemblance he had to the mythical prince of darkness. He exhaled and crouched, gesturing towards me. “Come on, darlin’. I want you to do your best.”

  “You want me to touch you?” I looked at him, and shook my head. “No offense uncle, but I’d rather not.”

  He looked down at his body and gave me a hurt look. “This is a specimen of manhood you aren’t going to see every day.”

  “Yeah, it’s too manly for me. Anyway, I don’t get the point …”

  Satan didn’t wait for me but ran at me and sent me flying. I hit the ground and couldn’t breathe. I stared at him while my vision got hazy. I heard someone screaming, but it couldn’t be me. I still wasn’t able to breathe. Finally, I took a painful gasp and recognized the voice as my mother’s.

  “What do you think you’re doing? Get away from her. She hasn’t got tattoos, you’re going to kill her!”

  I stared at my mother and her impossibly perfect beauty and took another breath. All the anger, fury, and frustration I’d been fighting flew into me in a rush. She had let me die without dying, watched me every morning, and never shed a tear for me while she wept like a baby over Devlin’s grave. I shoved against Satan, flipping him across the area into a bush. I stood slowly, watching my mother while red specks filled my vision. No, I wanted to remember this. I ran at her, but Satan was in front of me again. I shoved agains
t him, but he held onto me, twisting and pulling me back onto the ground. I don’t know how long I fought, but every time I got free and charged my mother he was there again. Time and again he wrestled me to the ground where I hit and mauled him, until suddenly, I felt something crack inside of me. Instead of pushing Satan away, I sank my teeth into his shoulder and felt the rush of satisfaction as I broke through the skin and tasted blood. It was only a second before he threw me across the clearing into a tree, and I crumpled at its base unconscious.

  When I opened my eyes, I took a deep breath and wished I hadn’t. I hurt in all sorts of places when I breathed with too much enthusiasm. I looked up at the light that hung over my head. That meant that I was lying on the kitchen island. If you were deserted on a desert island, what three things… I turned my head and winced at the pain that throbbed around my cheekbone and jaw. Something was definitely wrong with my head. Well, no kidding, Dari, Satan threw you into a tree. That’s not fair, I answered the voice. Fair? You want to talk about fair? I blocked the voice out after that. It was getting whiny. I braced myself and sat up. My mother and Satan sat in the breakfast nook, watching me.

  “Hi there. Mother, Satan. It’s not fair that you can throw me so far without having a fury.”

  He took his time answering. “No, but you might have noticed that life isn’t exactly fair now, is it?”

  “Whatever,” I muttered, not wanting to get into a debate while his words came to me like we were both underwater or something.

  “I paid for my strength with tattoos. Every tattoo series imbues the person with skills. Strength, longevity, healing, I forget what all I’ve got on me. I got into the habit of getting tattoos, and I didn’t stop.” His voice was too loud, his tone too condescending.

  “Oh. So you’re a really traditional Wild. That’s comforting.” My stomach was knotted, like the pain wasn’t enough, now I needed nausea to go with it.

  “Wilds can do tattoos, everyone else can do different crap. We’re all more or less equal.” He said it in a way that made me think less equal is what he meant.

  “Oh. Excuse me, I think I’m going to throw up.” I got off the counter and made it to the small bathroom off the kitchen. After some time I stood up and looked in the mirror. My eye was swollen, along with my jaw. I ran a hand along my body, and it felt like maybe a few ribs were cracked. It hurt to breathe.

  This was going to go over well at school. I threw up again, rinsed my mouth out, and washed my face. Then, I walked into the kitchen to the freezer and pulled out a steak to put on my eye. I grabbed another one and bit into it, not bothering to flinch away from my mother and Satan while they looked at me. Yep, I’m a monster. But apparently Satan’s capable of stopping me. All I have to do is try to eat him. I grinned at him, letting the blood run down my chin. My mother turned away, looking out the window, but Satan looked back at me with an odd expression on his face.

  “Dari,” he finally said. I kept looking at him. “You might not be quite aware of the rules of etiquette, but it’s not commonly considered good manners to eat people.”

  I chewed my bite thoroughly before swallowing. “I’ll try to remember that.”

  My mother looked at me, her calm composure back in place. “You aren’t going to be able to go to school for a few days.”

  “Fine.” I finished the steak and went to the sink, rinsing off my face under the faucet. I knew I was acting a little barbaric, but I didn’t care. What was the point when I’d actually bitten my own uncle, again? If I was a monster, fine. There wasn’t any point pretending now. I went upstairs and brushed my teeth for a really long time. I could still taste Satan’s blood in my mouth, sweeter than I’d expected with an acrid aftertaste, something like stale cigars. I brushed my teeth until my gums bled to drown his taste in my blood. I put away my toothbrush after I rinsed it until the pink was out of the bristles then looked up in the mirror at my face. Why me? Why did I have to go from soulless to monster? Where was normal? Where was nice and happy, the kind of girl who could go on a date with a guy without smelling his blood? I started to cry, but it hurt too much. Instead I went to bed then tried not to think.

  The quiet of the night was broken by the sound of two distant tickings that got louder and louder in my head. What was that sound? I rolled over and moaned, wrapping my arms around my ribs. Had he mangled one of my internal organs? They would take me to a hospital, wouldn’t they? I put my pillow over my head, and for a few minutes that helped to drown out the sound, but after a while it got louder until I sat up in bed. I took a deep breath through my mouth to block out the smell of blood that accompanied the heartbeats. Oh yeah, this was great. I closed my eyes as I breathed shallowly through my mouth. When I was at my dad’s, I’d really lost it when I needed to hunt. Maybe smelling Harris hadn’t been part of a fury since there had been no real anger. Maybe this was Netherkind bloodlust. That would explain why I’d lost it with Satan and why I was attuned to the beating hearts of the nearest prey. I needed to taste death. Bloody steak was not enough; I would have to go hunting. Would I be able to find anything on this side of the river besides demons? There were always cats, but that idea made me shudder. It would be best to find a nice wild animal since a wild animal would know to run. I got out of bed and pulled on Devlin’s old sweatpants and my sneakers. After that I took my long knife and tucked it in my dad’s bag. I moved through the house gracefully, silently, already prepared to hunt. I didn’t take a breath through my nose until I had carefully closed the sliding glass door behind me.

  I ran faster than I’d ever moved before. As I flew over the ground, I sensed things ahead of me without quite seeing them, almost like I could smell or hear branches and bushes. As fast as I went, there wasn’t crashing through underbrush, instead, it was the thud, thud of my feet in the dirt, beating along with my heart— fast and hard against my chest. While I ran, I didn’t feel the pain in my body; the pain didn’t matter. All that mattered was the chase. I smelled something so overpowering that I tripped for a moment sliding on my hands in the loose debris before I scrambled back to my feet and ran, not minding the branches that whipped my face and arms.

  I came out in a clearing then saw, by whatever light the night leant me, a shadow spread over the ground. It rose, towering over me, and I felt my legs turn to jelly. It was him. No one else smelled like that, like death, so sweet as it came for me. What was he going to do to me? I wished desperately for a shadow to cover my pale face as he came closer to me while he smelled too rich and dark for me to resist. I leapt into the darkness. I felt like I’d fallen into a drizzly day, only it was a warm wet that wrapped around me and made breathing difficult. I didn’t need to breathe; he was so close, but I couldn’t find him. I lost awareness of most of my body except for the whisper in a distant part of my head that said the pain in my face and ribs wasn’t so bad.

  The mist faded away, and I blinked and realized that my back had a branch or rock digging into it. I seemed to be lying on the ground, but I didn’t remember that happening. I blinked and heard the voice of the embodied darkness.

  “You should probably hunt something you can actually kill.” The voice assaulted my capacity for rational thought. He was speaking English. I couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or helpful.

  “If you weren’t hiding in darkness, then maybe I could fight a monster like you.” My voice came out shrill as I struggled to sit up, but everything was reeling. It was the second time in one day I’d been knocked silly. At least he’d let me down easy.

  He laughed and it was a sound like the wind ripping through a black night that tore right through me. I took a deep breath then sat up slowly. My ribs only twinged slightly. When I ran a hand over my face, the pain was less and the swelling had already gone down. “You fixed me?” I asked dumbly then a wave of fury followed. How dare he treat me with kindness when I was trying to destroy him?

  He replied in an icy voice that lent my mind a little more rationality. “There’s not much pleasure in fight
ing someone who’s crippled, is there?”

  The anger faded leaving me feeling more like a fool than ever. “So you’re going to fight me?” I asked looking up into the darkness.

  “I think that I’d like to lecture you first for a bit. The last time you went running in the woods you were nearly taken by demons. This time you attack someone who can disintegrate you while you are covered in injuries. What else did you attack that hurt you?”

  I glared at him rubbing my cheek. It still felt slightly tender. “I attacked my mother. It was an accident. I didn’t really want to, but Satan was pushing me around trying to get me to fight and after what happened with Harris, I lost control. It wasn’t really Harris’ fault, it was Lewis for distracting me.” I shut my eyes and wondered why I was telling him about it. “Anyway, what do you care?”

  It was quiet for a while, then I thought I heard a slight sigh before he said in a reasonable voice. “I’ve never met anyone like you. Perhaps I’m curious about how long I can keep you alive. Are you running away from home or simply looking for more demons?”

  I scowled. “I am hunting! This knife is my hunting knife! If I hunt, I will taste death and not stay awake listening to my mother’s heartbeat. I’m not suicidal!” I couldn’t seem to stop yelling at him. I started talking in a reasonable voice but it kept rising to a shriek.

  He didn’t seem to notice my temper. “Let’s find you some death then.” The darkness reached for me then I felt his hand in mine, solid flesh. He pulled me up, and after I tripped a few times, I got my legs to operate. When I heard the small heartbeat, the instincts took over. It felt so horribly good to move beside him. With my father, I’d always felt his disapproval. It kept things clean and efficient. The Nether laughed, and I felt a wave of euphoria. This hunting was different. It felt like sport. I ran faster, trying to outpace him, but my companion moved with me like we were one. It was over too soon, and after I’d come down from the rush of death, I was left feeling a new revulsion. I jerked my hand away from the monster, hating that I could forget what he was, that I could enjoy the part of me I could never accept. I felt stronger, but what was the point? I sat in the dirt next to cooling blood and broken body that had been alive a few moments before and let the self-hatred swamp me.

 

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