reflection 01 - the reflective

by Blodgett, Tamara Rose

  “Please welcome Julia Wade into our kiss.” He stepped back with a flourish, and Julia sat there pegged, feeling like a butterfly pinned to a board. Examined. Scrutinized. It was beyond awkward.

  She wasn't anyone's savior. Julia was herself. That was all she was.

  She stepped forward. Brave beyond measure, or foolish—she didn't know which—Julia said, “It's Caldwell. Julia Caldwell.”

  At that moment, she met William’s eyes, and there was anger in them. Julia was sure that he wanted her to move on with her life. The husband she loved had been dead for over a year, the relationship never consummated. Well, there's more to love than having sex. Otherwise,, there'd be a ton of people married to more than one person.

  She was still married to Jason in her heart. Dead or alive, he still held it in his hands.

  Warm and beating.

  Her guts clenched thinking about being here. She swung her head to the leader, Gabriel.

  He seemed to read her emotional barometer at that moment. “Caldwell, then. Please”—he looked over the crowd, who had begun to whisper to each other at her correction—“make Julia feel welcome amongst us.”

  She sighed, giving one more glance to William, and moved to Gabriel's side, resigned but not beaten.

  Never beaten.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Everywhere Julia looked, she saw blood.

  It filled the elaborately cut crystal punchbowl in the center of a table, which was easily twenty feet long. Stemmed glasses of every configuration stood around it like sentinels. The color wash cleverly hid what the glasses would contain once they had been filled: blood—human blood.

  The goblets looked as if they were on fire, backlit from the sconces, which lined the stone walls at a man's height—or in this case, a male vampire's.

  There were not just male vampires at the event but female, as well. Not many, but they were there.

  She could feel their discontent like a weight on the nape of her neck, her skin crawling with it. They were not happy with Julia's presence.

  Well, neither was she. They could rein in their attitude because she didn't want to be there any more than they wanted her to be.

  William came to Julia, taking her elbow, and it felt as if a match had been touched to flame, the heat of his contact with her bare arm igniting it neatly. It drove up her arm in a fine line of warmth, reaching the middle of her chest where it burst like a bubble. She gasped, catching her breath, and watched William’s jaw flutter as he clamped down on his reaction.

  “Let go of me,” Julia hissed quietly.

  William turned to her, hissing back, “I will not coddle you.” Her eyes narrowed on him, and he continued. “I did what I had to in order to protect you. I am so sorry you do not see what is beneath your nose.” His crimson eyes searched hers with neatly contained rage.

  “I want you to at least accept that I was doing my duty. Your acquisition was something I was tasked to accomplish. It was not personal. I did not kill your husband. That was the Were's interference and was typical of their kind—no planning, just reactive brutality in the heat of passion. They could not do a job done with finesse if a gun barrel were pressed to their collective heads.”

  Julia ripped her elbow out of his grasp. It made her madder when she realized he could have kept her wherever he wanted. She thought of what had happened with Claire. She immediately wanted to do the same with William. To him. But through the stone wall.

  She smiled at her thoughts.

  William looked at her and smiled back grimly. He could almost feel her intent, the blood union singing between them. Her thoughts were not known to him, but her emotional signature was loud and clear.

  William removed his hand as if scorched. “Fine.” He leaned into her face from inches away. “Know this, Blood Singer. Everything I do, I do for you. If it were for me, it would be so different.” He ran a finger down her jawline, and Julia shivered involuntarily.

  William turned on his heel and stalked off. He left Julia just inside the threshold of one of the archways with vampires everywhere. She did not know any of them, and she suddenly felt that she'd been a little too dismissive of him. She glanced around uneasily, noticing Clarence of the guard was within ten feet.

  He was ghosting her movements. He'd follow her into the bathroom if she let him.

  Julia wanted to tear her hair out. There was no privacy—nothing but living in a fishbowl.

  Gabriel approached. He gazed at her intently for a moment, looking almost dashing in his navy suit. A crisp shirt in warm white was accented with a soft tangerine tie. Julia recognized the color immediately. It was the same as her dress. They matched.

  Great.

  Gabriel watched her with such tenderness that Julia dropped her eyes. She was determined to not make friends. She wanted to belong to herself.

  Julia felt his finger before it touched the underside of her chin and lifted it to his gaze. “I know how you feel. I understand.”

  She moved her face away as his hand fell to his side and whispered, “You don't know how I feel. Claire told me that my parents and Jason were taken because Blood Singers can't intermarry. It was only a matter of time before they would've broken Jason and me up!” Julia tried to be quiet, but many of the vampires turned their faces to her and Gabriel, the conversation ringing in their ears.

  “I do not wish for this to be the place for this conversation,” he said, deftly swinging the conversation away from the heat of her anger.

  Fine. So convenient for him.

  Gabriel took Julia out of the archway of the pass-through. She looked behind her at a long corridor filled with many wooden doors like the one that that kept her prisoner in her chamber—thick and impenetrable.

  I'll leave this place. She straightened her spine and walked away with Gabriel. He took that as acquiescence and looped her arm through his.

  Julia schemed as they approached a circular group of vampires.

  She plastered a phony smile on her face, hoping William would not be among the crowd. Hopefully, he was off sulking somewhere, licking the wounds she'd inflicted on him.

  Julia's smile turned genuine.

  *

  Were

  Lawrence was beyond displeased. They'd had two failed missions. The reacquisition of the Rare One would need to be executed with the utmost stealth. And the vampires would be extra vigilant after the first two attempts.

  “It matters not that Tony behaved rashly. Ultimately, it was your responsibility as acting Alpha, Joseph.”

  “I know that,” Joseph said.

  “I don't want to see Tony receive discipline, Packmaster.”

  Lawrence's nostrils flared, and his eyes changed from their standard brown to a liquid gold—the eyes they all had when the heart of the wolf beat inside their bodies.

  “You speak true,” the Packmaster intoned, his eyes becoming the flat, human brown they usually were. “But he must be desensitized before the next mission.” He looked at Joseph and Tony. “Which will be soon.”

  Lawrence stood straight, aware of his lean body, tall and graceful. He ran a hand through his unruly hair, and he made it worse by combing it with his fingers. He pulled a map of sorts from his desk drawer and used his tapered fingers to smooth it out.

  “Come,” he told them.

  They did, bending over to see what lay before them.

  Joseph's face whipped up in shock. “This is where the coven is located? In the middle of downtown?”

  Lawrence slowly nodded, tapping his nose. “As it has been since the great fire of 1898.”

  He sighed. “My grandsire trained me when I was but a wee wolf.” Lawrence indicated a height of a human toddler. “He told me, ʻLawrence, you must know where your enemies hide.ʼ” He looked as serious as Joseph had ever seen him.

  “But we don't fight them, Packmaster,” Joseph said impatiently, stating the obvious. "What is our actual plan of action?”

  Tony laughed at Joseph's statement.

&n
bsp; Joseph growled softly in his throat, heat infusing his esophagus. The change hovered, as it always did at the moon's zenith.

  “We do not challenge, Alpha,” Lawrence corrected, giving Tony a growl that echoed Joseph's. Tony's eyes slid away from the both of them in a submissive response.

  With a satisfied expression on his face, Joseph turned his attention back to Lawrence.

  “There is a difference. You ken to what it is, eh?” Lawrence said.

  Joseph nodded. “I do, but I think we'll have to beat them at their own game.” He looked at his Packmaster's face for a lingering moment then continued, “I have wolves that can gather intel and return to us with a method of acquisition for Julia Caldwell before they know what hit them.” Joseph punched a balled fist into his open palm, the sound of it filling the small space.

  “Excellent. But first, you may be cognizant of the numbers.”

  “We need at least fifteen strong. We outnumbered them by one and still they escaped,” Tony elaborated, speaking out of turn.

  But he's right, Joseph thought. “Our numbers matter not. The one vampire had Singer blood. He shifted as an evasive tactic!”

  Lawrence's brows shot to his hairline. “You would have captured her without this unexpected… event?”

  “Abso-fucking-lutely,” Tony said, and Joseph frowned.

  Lawrence chuckled, looking Tony square in the eyes. “We cannot afford to lose even one soldier.” He turned his attention to his Alpha. “You are in charge of desensitizing your wolves. Do it, and do it quickly. We need to be ready for the soonest opportunity. Reconnaissance at the lair of the blood drinkers is essential. Establish time lines for their habits. Follow their intimates.”

  “Yes, Packmaster,” Joseph said, but he continued to eye Tony suspiciously.

  The two werewolves strode out side by side. The Packmaster watched the pair, sensing the rancor between them. He knew he had struck a match to their tempers.

  That was the way of it. Tony was volatile, but if he felt he was wolf enough to take Joseph in a fair challenge, let it happen. Lawrence would not cripple his unit of soldiers because the Alpha used caution as a shield. He would force their innate aggressiveness to the forefront.

  Besides, Tony was obviously wanting a higher position in the pack.

  Lawrence could smell it. And his nose never lied.

  *

  Vampire

  Julia allowed herself to be led by Gabriel's arm to the small group of vampires, their dark eyes tracking her like falcons. She could feel the material of her long gown swirl around her legs as she moved toward them, light and shadows giving their expressions a similarity to one another.

  “These are your potential suitors, Julia,” Gabriel said, not even bothering to offer the introduction in a softer light.

  He may as well have said, Take your pick of breeding stock.

  Julia crossed her arms underneath her breasts. She was vaguely aware that the posture moved her hair away from her bosom, offering the expansive creaminess of her skin as a delicacy before the vampires who were already looking at her as though she was their favorite meal. One gasped in response to her subtle movement.

  Gabriel chuckled, waggling his finger at the group. “I have said that when a female came amongst you, you would have to sit on your fangs.” He chuckled at his own joke.

  Julia scowled at his words.

  Not funny.

  “Now, now, Julia. Don't look like that—I was simply lightening the mood.”

  Julia's attention returned to the loose circle. There were five of them, all dressed similarly. One of them stood in the shadows, but then he came forward, and the ambient light from the strange glass windows of the ceiling cast light like the moon on his face, and she took a step backward. It was William.

  William saw her sharp inhalation and how she retreated a step. Was he so abhorrent? Wasn't their blood share supposed to feel good to a Singer? He fought not to tighten his fists and tried to appear relaxed—even as his warrior brethren sniffed at her like the dogs of the Were. He swallowed the anger that threatened to engulf him.

  Julia turned to Gabriel. “I will never consent to anyone here.” She whipped her hand around at the vampires. “I don't want to be bred. I don't care if you boys never walk in the light. Maybe there's a good reason you don't.” She looked at each face, with perfectly chiseled features made out of the same mold. Only William looked different—more human. She shoved that thought aside.

  Gabriel's patience was thinning. “These are the vampires who possess the blood of a Singer in their lineage—although, you may breed with any vampire, or be mated with any. A Rare One may beget a child with any vampire. But it is the blood of a Singer that will allow the recessive genes to intermingle and produce the life blood of our coven.”

  “What?” Julia nearly yelled.

  “Light Bringers,” Gabriel said.

  Tears threatening, Julia said, “You can't force me to do this! Why would you want to? You're a Rare One too!”

  “I am not female,” he said with a logic that made her want to slap his face.

  She looked around for a face that understood, finally landing on William's. His held compassion, but she didn't want that. Not from him.

  She whirled away from the group, hiking the skirt up, the material a silken bunch in her fist, and ran for the archway. She slapped the first door she saw and entered a bathroom, small and private, with a love seat just inside the door. She sank down on it. She cried into her hands and abandoned all hope.

  Julia didn't know what to do or how she'd escape.

  She made her sobs quiet. She wouldn't give the vampires in the hall the satisfaction of hearing her sadness.

  They were the cause of it.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Julia dried her cheeks with a vicious swipe. Disgusted with herself and her feelings of hopelessness, she stood and walked over to the mirror. Julia looked at her red and swollen eyes, the tracks from her tears making streaks where makeup had been. Claire had insisted on that makeup.

  Her hands gripped the rolled porcelain edge of the sink basin, the coolness a contrast to her body's heat.

  Her head hung almost to her breastbone. How many times had Jason held her up when she felt as though she couldn't live another moment with Aunt Lily. When her constant nagging and distrust were more than Julia could bear?

  Resolve took hold within Julia. She needed to get through each day here and formulate a plan. One day at a time. If she could gain their trust, even by some small measure, maybe she could find a way to escape—especially as her powers grew. Without actually causing her harm, how would they stop the advancement of her abilities?

  Claire was the one who had told her she was entering her adolescence as a Blood Singer. Almost twenty seemed too old for that, but Singers lived longer.

  They were immortal in some cases. Julia had not asked the burning question—the one that had trembled on her lips: Was she immortal?

  Would she live forever?

  It still seemed surreal. She kept going back in a mental circle to her last point of reference of a year ago, when the biggest plan was getting married to her high school sweetheart. And now she was faced with paranormal powers, vampires… werewolves. The enormity of it all was overwhelming. If the reality weren’t staring her in the face, she'd believe she was crazy.

  Her skin began to crawl, prickling.

  Julia jerked her head up and met the stare of a female vampire in the reflection a heartbeat before she struck, her fangs sinking into Julia's shoulder, the tips meeting her collarbone. Julia cried out, the pain greater than even the effect of William's claws had been.

  “Hold her, Edna,” a male voice said casually.

  The pain burned like liquid fire. Acid in her flesh.

  Julia was trying to scream around the fangs as, with bulging eyes, she saw the male walk toward her. The scream died in a mouth that had become dry with fear.

  He had been one of the males in the group of �
�choices,” she realized wildly, on the verge of hysteria.

  “The female doesn't want you, fragile human. She hates you,” he said, his eyes liquid pools of silver, reflecting like dull nickels. Those eyes tried to suck her under, but Julia felt the pull slide off harmlessly.

  “Thrall will not work, dolt,” another male said, meeting her eyes in the mirror. Julia saw that the bloodied wound was leaking into the bodice of her tangerine dress, turning it red. An evil sunset bloomed on the gauzy fabric.

  The other male's eyes widened, and he bent over her shoulder, lapping at the blood like a cat with cream. “Ahh,” he crooned. Lap, suck, gulp. Julia watched as the male's throat convulsed. He licked at her skin while the other one watched. “Her blood is exquisite. I have never tasted the likes of it.” His eyes rolled to meet hers in the reflection, in a shade of silver so light they looked glacial.

  They were going to take Julia's blood where she stood, Edna the vampire anchoring her throbbing shoulder to force her placement.

  They would feed.

  The other male moved in, eyeing her throat as if mesmerized, his body one tight line of tension.

  Julia became desperate. She had next to no training, having about bashed Claire's brains in the other day in a reaction so pure, so unexpected the vampires had been pacing themselves since. Panicked, Julia tried to remember what it felt like to engage that telekinetic ability. It was so new to her she didn't even know where to begin—especially with her heart in her throat from sheer terror. Julia felt disjointed and lacking the cognitive reasoning for an adroit attack.

  When the vampire who'd licked at her met her eyes, Julia let out all her bottled-up rage and emotions, focusing them like a spear. The hell with finesse.

  Choke, she thought with a mental shove.

  She launched a counter strike at vamp number one. When he staggered back, blood spewing out of his mouth, she turned her attention to number two.

  Feeling an elemental push that echoed the first strike, Julia used that seething momentum and blasted the neck biter just when he would have sunk fangs into her erratically beating pulse. His head had reared back, twin spiked fangs shining like creamy pearls, prepared for the strike.