Hotblood

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Hotblood Page 18

by Juliann Whicker


  “You should go home and rest now,” he said.

  I shrugged. It didn’t matter if I was tired or not. I put my forehead on my knees and felt a sudden urge to throw myself into something until I was lying broken like this creature at my feet. How could I justify it? Maybe he wanted me to get stronger so I could hunt larger things, until I might actually be something like sport for this creature, this nightmare.

  “What are you doing here? What do you want with me? Are you going to kill me at some point? I wish you’d get it over with now.”

  He was quiet for a long time. “I do not kill or hunt people like you.” There was something in his voice that made me sit up and lean away from him. He sounded like I’d insulted him or something.

  I laughed and threw up my hands. “Great! Now everything makes perfect sense. Why don’t you explain it to me? My instincts are apparently less wholesome than yours, O creature of the night. You see I want to eat you. I want to rip open your chest and climb inside of you.” Yeah, that was pretty much the words that went with the abstract desire I’d felt when I’d attacked him so pathetically.

  “I’m flattered,” he said drily.

  I sighed feeling deflated. “My father thinks you are terrifying.”

  “He wonders if my intentions are honorable. Rather,” he said musingly, “he wishes my intentions could be dishonorable.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “He is worried that I will drag you into the Nether as my bride.” This time his voice sounded amused, the dark humor that was probably the only kind he had.

  I felt like I’d been hit in the stomach. “You want to marry me?” My voice was a trembling shaky thing.

  “Only after you ripped out my heart, of course,” he responded.

  “Why not? What marriages don’t begin and end without heart ripping of some kind?” I said, still feeling breathless at the incomprehensible idea of a marriage with the Nether. I ignored the fact that I found the idea faintly appealing.

  “You need sleep. Are you going to walk home or do you want me to carry you?”

  I scowled at him, trying to put the full weight of my angst into that look and struggled to my feet. As I walked, my body was heavier with every step like I’d just taken my dad’s potion. He made a sound like a curse, and then I was flying through the night wrapped in his darkness. I felt solid arms around me and felt whole. I think I struggled, but then I let myself drift until I found myself dropped unceremoniously on the grass in my mother’s back yard. I sat up and looked towards the woods, but the shadow had already gone. Somehow, I made it through the glass doors to the living room.

  9 Smash and Jive

  I opened my eyes and saw a pair of dark boots on the beige carpet. “The blood isn’t hers,” Satan’s unmistakable voice informed someone. “Hey, Dari, you’ve got to get to school. I think a shower is a good idea.”

  I put my arm over my head to block out the sound of him, but he nudged me with his foot. “Okay, okay,” I mumbled and dragged myself to my knees. I squinted at him until my eyes adjusted to the light.

  “What happened to your face?” Satan asked then grabbed my chin. I jerked away. “How’d you do that?” he asked with some awe in his voice.

  I touched my face again and remembered. I closed my eyes and almost felt the mist caress my cheek as it pulled out the pain. I started towards the shower, but Satan held me with his large hand on my shoulder. “Dari, that was a direct question.”

  “Satan, get your hand off my daughter.” My mother’s voice had more life in it than I’d heard for a long time. Satan’s hand dropped. “Dariana, go ahead and take a shower.” She gave me a smile as I passed, but it felt like she was still focused on Satan.

  After I had washed, I examined my face in the mirror. There was still some bruising, but if I kept my hair over my face and my head down it would be barely noticeable. How had he done that? Maybe the bigger question was, why? If I remembered the conversation correctly, and I hoped I didn’t, I’d actually told him I wanted to climb inside of him, and he’d responded by telling me my dad was really frightened by the possibility of my running off with him. Why would I say something like that? He hadn’t seemed threatened though. Ok, what had happened? I attacked him, he healed me, then he took me hunting, I threatened him, and he took me home. Wow. That was like a date. I groaned and dragged a brush through my hair. I should be happy about it. I hadn’t been stolen by him, married, or whatever my dad was so worried about. He hadn’t acted like he really wanted me so what was he doing here?

  My mother drove me to school that day, and I tried not to look at her. Finally I said, “I’m really sorry I got angry yesterday and tried to kill you.” I couldn’t help rolling my eyes. It was ridiculous to have to say something like that out loud.

  She shook her head. “It’s understandable. I think if I were in your place I wouldn’t be apologizing. About last night: it was completely out of line for Satan to handle you like that. You’re not one of his little brothers that he needs to toughen up. Your father told me about the Netherkind, I take it you saw it again?” I shrugged. “But it didn’t hurt you, did it?”

  “He’s not an it. No, obviously he didn’t hurt me.” I touched my face. “For some reason I think he wants to keep me out of trouble.”

  “Why would a Netherkind care?”

  I shrugged again. “Am I supposed to know?”

  She sighed. “No, I don’t suppose you are. There’s something else I wanted to talk to you about. Dari, you should know that while I appreciate his efforts to help me, I’m not comfortable with Satan’s role here as your confidante.”

  “What?” It was really weird to think of Satan as anything requiring my mother’s cool French accent.

  “My brother is from the House of Slide, my father’s house. You have to know that his loyalty is always with my father. Whatever you tell him, he may not always keep to himself.”

  I nodded and felt a little bit sick. “When he stopped at the house in the city, I couldn’t believe how huge it was. You think he was reporting to your dad about me?”

  The car was quiet for awhile. “Did you meet anyone at the house?” she finally asked.

  “Not really. I stayed in the car. There were a few guys Satan didn’t know who were friends of someone, I forget his name, Stephen’s boy.” I remembered how much he looked like Devlin. “So they all have special talents? It doesn’t seem like there’s anything more than violence, ego and money, except Satan seems to have missed the money part.”

  My mother exhaled and I realized how tense she looked. “Satan has as much money as he wants. Satan’s special talent involves explosives and general mayhem. My father has a more subtle talent.” She glanced at me and I wondered why she looked so vulnerable. “My father knows how to make people happy.”

  “I don’t get it. That’s a bad thing?”

  My mother pursed her lips. “He creates bonds of loyalty no other House can come close to. His approval means everything to Satan. It used to mean everything to me, but that was a very long time ago. It isn’t easy to stay objective under the influence of Wilds. I’m almost glad the Nether is here to keep an eye on Satan.”

  “You don’t hate Nether? Satan hates them. I thought you would too.”

  “Your father…” My mother shook her head slightly and bit her bottom lip. It made her look young and very delicate. “No. Of course I don’t hate Nether. I am wary of them but no more than Wilds. The Nether gave all of the four kinds our gifts.” She shook her head. “Do you think you can get a ride home with Snowy after school today?”

  I nodded and tried to look pleased at the idea of asking Snowy for a ride. She had no problem telling me I had issues, but she was insanely protective of me if anyone else messed with me. I had to find some way to appreciate that.

  When we got to school, I got out of the car then walked through the drizzle towards the building. Inside, I got to my locker without talking to anyone. Not like that was a real challe
nge, considering that only four people in school actually talked to me.

  “Dari,” Snowy’s voice came from behind me.

  Number one. I turned, “Hi, Snowy. Is it always so wet here?”

  She shrugged. “I wanted to talk to you yesterday, but I got distracted by Harris.” I turned and started to walk to class with Snowy beside me. “The thing is that the dance team isn’t even. Tawna is getting really frustrated, and I’d really like you on the team.”

  I stopped and looked at her. “You want me on the dance team?” She nodded. “Are you sure Tawna wouldn’t mind? I missed dance camp.”

  Snowy shrugged. “I’ll help you with anything you need to work on. I really want something to be the same.” She looked so vulnerable and small. I gave her a smile and touched her shoulder.

  “Yeah. I really liked dance. It was always one of my favorite things.”

  “Really?” Her eyes were so hopeful, there was no way she wasn’t faking it. For some reason I didn’t really mind.

  “Yeah. So, are you going to pick me up tomorrow morning? Five thirty a.m.? Oh, and I need a ride home after school today.”

  She laughed. “You know it. Have fun in English.” She gave me a knowing smile that made me feel embarrassed about Lewis, but I shrugged it off. How I felt about Lewis wasn’t anything close to how confused I was about the Nether.

  In class, I was completely unprepared. It should have been a relief that Lewis spent his time diverting Mrs. Briggs’ attention from the rest of the class, but what if I was prepared? What if I had something I wanted to say? I watched Mrs. Briggs and shrugged. No, that wasn’t going to happen. I was just feeling irritable towards him for telling Osmond he wasn’t interested in me romantically, and for having such an interesting back of his head. Not that my interests were anything except friendly. My life was already complicated enough. It was just that I liked the way he smiled. Okay, maybe I got all shivery and hot when he touched me and thought his eyes were magnificent pools of warmth but that could be friendship, right? I exhaled and slumped down at my desk. As far as I knew, that was not platonic. Platonic was how I felt about the guy with the brown hair and glasses who sat to my left who gave me a harried smile between his bouts of note taking. Mrs. Briggs’ evilness could create bonds between a student-body that transcended my stubborn determination to wear the old clothes from my dad’s house instead of jeans and t-shirts.

  In PE I sat out while the rest of the girl’s gym class combined with boys to practice ballroom dancing. I always sat out; the whole no touching thing demanded it. When I saw the other kids spinning around and having fun, I decided that I was done with no touching. I’d hunted and that made me practically normal.

  Smoke was in the boy’s class and he was impressive. He had a fantastic energy and a smooth rhythm that not a lot of other dancers could manage. I went straight to him when the other set broke up.

  “Hey, Smoke, do you want to dance with me?” I asked holding out a hand.

  He looked surprised, but it didn’t last long. He shrugged and before I knew it, we were jiving around the room to some sweet trumpets that made me want to break into pieces. I found myself moving in ways I hadn’t actually felt before. I could feel the beat of my heart matching the rhythm, and I found myself forgetting about the steps I was supposed to be practicing. Smoke’s response to my break out of choreographed moves was to give me a grin and do some kind of wild move that I followed with complete abandon. I moved close to him because the music seemed to call for it and his response was precisely what it was supposed to be. Years of training with Devlin, ballroom king, was in my muscle memory, and apparently Smoke hadn’t been oblivious to the ballroom lessons he’d had living in Sanders. It all came out, and we danced, I mean really danced.

  When the music ended, I heard clapping and looked around. That’s when I realized that everyone was watching us, had been watching for who knew how long. I felt a wave of embarrassment and wanted to disappear, to rip my hand out of Smoke’s and go back to the wall without meeting anyone’s eyes, but then I caught sight of Lewis leaning against the wall clapping for me with a polite smile on his mouth. If he wanted platonic, that was fine with me. I forced myself to straighten up and smile as sweetly as I could up at Smoke. There shouldn’t be anything shocking in my dancing with someone. I wasn’t a zombie anymore.

  “That was incredible,” one girl said when we were in the locker room, smiling at me while she pulled off her long skirt.

  “Really. I’ve never seen anything like that,” another girl said nodding sincerely. It all became a blur, all the faces and people, nodding and smiling at me. I wasn’t sure whether this was an improvement over being stared at and whispered about.

  I made it to History, then lunch, where I sat at the table trying to convince myself that I really wanted to eat the sandwich with the slimy cheese in it.

  “So, are you two like an item?” Snowy asked, sliding into the seat across from me with a very not nice smile on her face.

  “What?” I saw a picture in my mind of Lewis, the way he clapped for me, but there was nothing that reached his eyes. “No, of course not.”

  “From what I hear, you’re going with him to the fall festival. Everyone can’t stop talking about the little dance number you two put on for the whole school, oh wait, minus one person, me, your best friend.”

  I stared at her, trying to get things straightened out in my head. She wasn’t talking about Lewis; she was talking about Smoke. I couldn’t help giggling. “Um, Smoke and I are friends, if that. Strictly platonic you know.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “You always stuck to the elegant dances. It seems like a pity since apparently you have so much potential for shaking it.”

  I laughed out loud at that. “Shaking it? Snowy, it was a jive. It requires a certain amount of jumping around, but I don’t really have that much to shake, you know,” I thumbed towards Valerie where she sat at a table surrounded by a horde of boys who reminded me vaguely of Harris. “I’m not really built for vulgarity. I danced jive with Devlin a million times. Didn’t he dance it with you?”

  She froze with a look on her face like a deer in the headlights, and I felt a sudden drop in my stomach. Maybe I was better adjusted to Devlin’s death than she was. Osmond sat down and Snowy shook off her memories. “Osmond, did you hear about Dariana’s dancing? You should probably call Smoke out or something.”

  Osmond looked up at me. “Way to go, Dari.” He said it like I’d scored a touchdown or something.

  “Osmond, she did a full body jive with Bob Rowe. Aren’t you going to get all protective about it?” Snowy snapped. I’d almost forgotten that was his name. It didn’t suit him.

  “He likes to be called Smoke,” was all Osmond said.

  “Snowy, why are you so bothered by this? Do you not want me to dance?” I asked and was pleased I didn’t sound defensive, only concerned.

  She rolled her eyes. “Go ahead, dance. It’s just that first Harris, and then Bob,” she glared at Osmond, “when there are so many perfectly nice guys you could be interested in.”

  “Apparently nice guys aren’t interested in me.” I couldn’t believe I was having this conversation. What was wrong with her? Of course, she was right about Harris.

  “What’s this about Harris?” Osmond’s eyes narrowed at that point.

  I stood up and grabbed my tray. “It’s taken care of. I’ll see you later, Snowy.”

  I didn’t look back at them and hoped that the message was clear enough for both of them as I fought down the fury that wasn’t entirely irrational. Who did they think they were? I was not their little pet. As for Snowy’s crazy response to my dancing with Smoke, I had no idea what to do with that. I wished she’d been more like Osmond about it, although I didn’t understand what Osmond would have against Lewis that he didn’t feel about Smoke. I hated Osmond’s reaction when Snowy had mentioned Harris, but it did make sense since he’d actually been there when I’d run into Harris and the whole creepy episode
had begun. Harris would stay away from me. I probably wouldn’t even want to kill him at this point. My personal Netherkind nightmare had done a good job taking the edge off the hunger. The thought of him made everything else in my life seem perfectly logical.

  In sewing class I tried not to meet Smoke’s eyes, but I didn’t have to bother. He gave me a nod then spent the rest of the class arguing with a girl about the proper way of installing grommets. I had no idea what he was talking about, but I didn’t really care. I watched the clock, which seemed to move much faster than normal. The bell finally rang, and I watched the classroom empty. Mrs. Lemon came up to my desk.

  “Dariana, how are things going?” She smiled over me while I mumbled something then left the room.

  I made it to the second floor of the tower, and saw Lewis where he sat at a half empty table while every other table seemed full. Instead of going directly to the table, I put it off and walked through the stacks examining the spines of the books. I found myself in the classics section and looked for Bronte. There were a few other books but no Jane Eyre. I lingered there in the space where the book should have been, when I felt him behind me. He wasn’t very close, but his smell was unmistakable.

  “Do you want to borrow my copy?” I turned around and was going to say something clever, but he reached forward and brushed my hair away from my face, his fingers leaving a burning trail on my cheek where they touched the skin. I swallowed then suddenly remembered why I’d been so careful all day to keep my hair down. I jerked back and walked quickly to the table.

  “What happened?” he asked following me.

 

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