Blood Reaction Saga (Book 2): Blood Distraction

by Atha, DL

  “Really, Detective? It’s a surprise? ’Cause you know I live out this direction, right? You were at my house just yesterday morning. How do you keep your job with that kind of memory?” He laughed, a low rumbling sound that said he found no humor in my sarcasm. “It’s a surprise because I thought maybe you’d split after they found that man’s body.” He leaned even farther towards the car. I could have told you within a millimeter where his carotid was hiding among the lean muscles of his neck. I leaned a couple inches away from the window and tried not to think about how badly I wanted him. Why did it have to be him?

  He irritated the hell out of me.

  Beside me, Mom was about to come out of her skin. “What?” she demanded. “What body?”

  I chanced one glance at the both of them.

  “You didn’t tell her, Annalice?” Rumsfield’s expression was one of extreme piety, but I could feel the sarcasm in his eyes. They hadn’t left my face. “Yes, ma’am,” he said across the car to Mom. “They found a man’s body out behind Annalice’s house this morning. I cannot believe she didn’t mention it.”

  “We heard about the bear attack victim, Rumsfield, on our way into town. I didn’t mention that he was found so close to my house because I didn’t know. I read it in the paper tonight at the diner where I had a very normal dinner with my mother.” I narrowed my eyes at him before I turned towards my very normal mother. “I didn’t realize he had been so close to my house.” But she had eyes only for the detective.

  Rumsfield continued before I could defend myself. He wasn’t fighting fair. “That’s really odd, Annalice, that you live in this small, close‐knit community and yet didn’t know that a man had died less than a couple miles from your house. Everyone else around here has already heard, and I suspect they’ve all delivered a casserole and paid their respects by now.”

  “I was sleeping. Remember, Detective, I work the night shift.”

  “Oh yeah, about that …” he started to say, but Mom cut him off.

  “I told her not to buy that house, Detective. It is absolutely no place for a woman to live alone. But she won’t leave. I’ve spent two years trying to convince her. Why would you think she would leave now simply because a man was attacked by a bear?” Mom was picking up on the detective’s undertones.

  Rumsfield cleared his throat and leaned down farther towards the car like he was trying to contain the rumors about me and wasn’t the one spreading them in the first place. I gripped the steering wheel harder in annoyance. “Well, there’s been a lot of tragedy associated with Annalice recently. Ms. McElhaney’s death, and now this man is dead. It’s a little strange, don’t you think?”

  I’d had about all I could take. “It was an animal attack that killed that man!” I said.

  Mom ignored me completely. “What happened to Ms. McElhaney?” Her voice had ascended an octave. She looked back and forth between me and Rumsfield, each turn of her neck ratcheting her eyes wider.

  “Annalice, you didn’t tell her that either?” Rumsfield was looking pious again as he searched my expression, then he turned the full gaze of his butter‐wouldn’t‐melt-in‐my‐mouth expression on Mom. “Ms. McElhaney died nearly a week ago. Somebody assaulted that poor elderly woman in her own home. Ripped her throat out with God only knows what. I showed the crime scene photos to Annalice.” Finally, he broke eye contact with Mom and looked at me. “They were terrible pictures, I have to say, even for my line of work.”

  Mom was shell‐shocked quiet for a couple of seconds while she tried to figure out how I played into this story. Then it was rapid‐fire questions. “Why on God’s green earth would you have done that? You’re thinking it’s the same man who broke into Annie’s house? Have you found anything out yet from your investigation the other day? Annie said the police had been out. Any fingerprints or anything? Was it the same man? Still, why would you show the crime scene photos of Ms. McElhaney to Annalice? That seems a bit excessive for a break‐in at Annie’s house.”

  Rumsfield looked surprised then smiled briefly in my direction. It was so quick, I don’t think Mom noticed his enjoyment at her state of shock, but he recovered quickly, the smile turning down in disappointment. His forehead crinkled in mock distress at having to tell my mom the bad news. He had me, and he knew it.

  “Ma’am. I, um, I don’t know how to break this.” He paused for effect. “I hate to be the one to tell you this. I’m not sure what Annalice told you, but we didn’t investigate a break‐in at your daughter’s house. No, you see, we had a search warrant. The suspect in Ms. McElhaney’s murder was your daughter’s boyfriend. They were seen together at the Screamin’ Eagle around the same time that Ms. McElhaney died.”

  His words hit nothing but our stunned silence—mine as I tried not to say anything incriminating, Mom’s as she slowly absorbed his words. Thankfully, Ellie slept peacefully in the back seat. Mom continued to add things up in her head, but two and two didn’t quite make four. More like three and a half. Rumsfield waited for the message to settle in, and I waited for the other shoe to drop. Would he arrest me here?

  Mom held to the daughter that had once been, the things that logically she knew to be true about me. Finally, she spoke. “My daughter doesn’t have any man in her life except her ex‐husband, and he lives miles from here. Annalice, what is he talking about?” she said, turning towards me. I guess concern overshadowed her fear of me.

  But I had no answers. I wanted to look her in the eyes so she would know that I was innocent. One look is all it would have taken before because I’d never been able to lie to her. She’d have known I was telling the truth. But now I was afraid. Afraid that she’d feel the inhumanness in my expression. Afraid she’d see half‐truths. I stared straight ahead, my lips pressed into a thin line. Finally, she looked away and back at Rumsfield.

  “Ms…” Rumsfield asked, fishing for her name. I guess he couldn’t call her “ma’am” forever.

  “Lovelace. I’m her mother. But please call me ‘Jacquelyn.’” She reached a hand across me towards Rumsfield but drew it back quickly. She couldn’t stand the close contact.

  “With all due respect, Jacquelyn, I think there’s a few things you don’t know about Annalice.”

  If you only knew the half of it, I thought. But I did know I couldn’t sit here any longer debating this with him. I could feel Mom’s suspicions growing along with Rumsfield’s need to prove he had me.

  “There’s a few things I do know, Rumsfield,” I said. “And the first one is that you don’t have any proof of anything. Secondly, you can’t even tie my ‘boyfriend’ to this, and he wasn’t my ‘boyfriend’ anyhow. It was one date. And the man’s death in the woods was ruled an animal attack. Not a homicide. If you had anything at all on me, I’d be in jail. All you have is a blinding desire to incriminate me in something I had no part in. You’re grasping for straws.”

  Rumsfield leaned farther into my car, using the doorframe to support his large frame, the metal of the door squeaking in response. His breath was a warm haze on my cheek. “The only animals in the woods last night were you and your boy‐toy. Couple of freaks, the two of you, and I’m going to prove it.” His voice was a whisper that Mom couldn’t hear. “Turns out, Annalice, that I’ve got more evidence than you think,” he said, louder now. And then ignoring me, he looked at Mom. “Ms. Lovelace, you be careful,” he said.

  I looked at him now and let the restrained hunter in me slide to the surface. I knew better, but I was angry, and part of me wanted him to know what I wanted to do to him. I’d like to think that the better part of me wanted to warn him. I’d spent the evening blocking out the sounds and smells of humanity. For a brief moment, I let myself listen to the sound of his heart. The four chambers beating in circuitous fashion. The valves opening, the pulmonic valve splitting open just before the aortic valve as his lungs filled with air. I could hear the blood rushing in and out of his heart. I’d never realized how truly inspiring the sound was until now.

  Everyt
hing suddenly seemed brighter, sharper. The trees lining the road became crisper, their outlines pearly against the darkness. I knew where every human stood and how slowly they would reach me. I noticed the heat coming from my mom for the first time and recognized each grain of the leather‐wrapped steering wheel under my fingertips.

  The detective tensed and held his breath. He didn’t even swallow. I could almost hear his muscles tightening up, and I could definitely see them doing so in his jaw. The fine hairs on the backs of his hands rose to my threat. In the seat beside me, Mom caught her breath, a garbled cry cut off. Behind me, I felt Ellie stir, and I was ashamed, ashamed that I would risk my daughter seeing me this way.

  I forced myself to relax—forced myself to move again—simple things like running a hand through my hair, swallowing, and looking away from the man I wanted to kill. I reached one hand across the seat, slowly, and squeezed Mom’s hand. I hoped it would reassure her. She jerked once but didn’t pull away.

  “You be careful yourself, Detective,” I said, turning back towards Rumsfield. “We’re going home now. If you have any questions, I live at the end of the road in case you have trouble remembering. And if you want to talk to me again, you better come with another search warrant.”

  The window was up before he could come up with a reason to stop me, but I watched for blue lights all the way home.

  Chapter 3

  I carried Ellie into the house, but she woke up as I crossed the threshold into the living room. “It’s time for bed, babe.”

  She nodded. “I’m going to get a drink first,” she said. I cringed at the words. My mother whistled through her teeth from the corner of the room. The fridge was empty. Nothing drinkable would be found in there unless you counted the pickle juice I left sitting on the back shelf after I’d devoured everything I could get my teeth on over the last week. And I hadn’t even thought to go grocery shopping.

  Ellie had already opened the fridge and looked in before I could make an excuse.

  “Seriously, Mom? You need to go to the grocery store. And hire a maid.” If she thought more about the messiness, she didn’t say anything. Instead, she popped a cup under the water dispenser on the fridge and took a few long sips. “See you in the morning, Grammy.” Kissing her grandmother good night, she held my hand as I walked her to bed.

  I pulled the white lace coverlet up under her arms once she was comfortable and feathered the hair back from her eyes with my hand. “I’ve missed you terribly,” I whispered as I leaned to kiss her forehead.

  “I was only gone a week, Mom,” she giggled, rolling her eyes. “You were supposed to have some grown‐up alone time. Maybe go out with a boy, even. Didn’t you have any fun without me?”

  Kids. There was a time I’d have said the same thing to my mother, but then Ellie had come into my life, and then and only then was I able to comprehend how much someone could love another person.

  “Boys?” I leaned back on my elbow, regarding her with a suspicious face. “And what do you know about boys?”

  “I know that you don’t ever talk to any,” she said, pointing an accusing finger at me.

  “Uh whatever. I talk to them like… all the time. Because they’re everywhere. You can’t escape them.” I rolled my own eyes thinking of Rumsfield. “I’m serious. You can’t escape him.”

  “You can’t escape who?” Ellie asked, her eyes bright.

  “You can’t escape them. Boys, I mean. That’s what I was talking about. You can’t get away from them. They’re like bad pennies. They just keep turning up. So, yeah, I talk to boys, you know, all the time.”

  “You talked to a real boy, Mom?” She looked at me skeptically.

  “Yeah, of course. There’s lots of male nurses these days, and I talked to Dr. Thompkins the day before Grammy picked you up.” “Mom, he’s like seventy.”

  “Well, he’s a boy.” “A dried‐up boy.”

  “You didn’t specify that they had to be young. Or cute or something.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You’re dodging, Mom. You were supposed to have fun. Not miss me.”

  “Like I could have stopped myself from missing you,” I laughed, pinching her nose. “I’m genetically programmed to miss you.”

  “Well, I missed you too but don’t tell Grammy. She’ll think I didn’t have fun with her.”

  “No worries. Your secret is safe with me. Mom’s promise,” I said, crossing my heart with my index finger. “Sleep tight, babe,” I added, giving her hair one last tousle as I stood and turned towards the door.

  A very human reaction, I took a relaxing sigh. No worries, I told myself. I’ve got this. I’m going to survive. This whole vampire thing is do‐able, I thought, using my new catchphrase. As long as the police don’t come for me.

  The bad mojo from the encounter with Rumsfield had dissipated some. My emotions had calmed down. Logic was beginning to surface in my brain. If the detective had anything, he’d have already tried to bring me in for questioning, so I was starting to feel better about talking to Mom, who was waiting in the living room for me. She was pacing in small circles in front of the fireplace, her footsteps tapping out a rhythm of unease on the old hardwoods. But with Ellie’s smile still fresh in my memory, I felt I could conquer anything—even my eagle‐eyed mother.

  “Hey, Mom. Wake me for pancakes?” Ellie asked from behind me.

  And then the world fell from underneath my feet. I’d been so happy to see her that I’d put off explaining my all‐day absences. With a sick heart, I walked back to her bed and sunk down onto my knees beside it.

  “Ellie,” I started, but then I lost courage, and for several minutes, I could think of nothing to say. Cool tears rolled down my cheeks, and I looked down at the floor, wiping them away with my fingers before Ellie could see their red tint. A small, warm hand touched my shoulder. I leaned into it for strength.

  “What’s wrong, Mom?” There was worry in her voice. Not something I usually heard in Ellie’s voice. She was always such an upbeat child. I wanted to keep her that way.

  “Ellie, I won’t be here in the morning. I know this seems so sudden, and it’s really hard to explain, but something happened while you were gone. I got this really strange sickness that makes the sun hurt me now. So I have to stay completely out of any sunlight. I’ll be hidden away and not just in the house in the bedroom but really away. But I’ll be okay every night, I promise. And grandma will take care of you during the day. We may have to move to be closer to her, but otherwise, it’ll be like I’m working the night shift again. You remember that? When I worked the twelve‐hour night shifts. Only this time, I won’t switch back to days.” It all poured out in one long, continuous breath. It was the only way I could keep going. The only way to get all the hateful words out.

  “What happened? How sick are you? Will it get better?” She sat up in bed, her little arms stretched out behind her. She looked so fragile, and I hated to scare her.

  “I know it sounds crazy, but I caught some sort of virus and my skin blisters in the sun. It affects what I eat and even how I look. And, it won’t get better, Ellie.” Confusion crossed her face along with a bit of pity. She’d have questions. If not tonight, then eventually. I’d need to come up with better answers. “But you’ll be okay,” I added. “You won’t catch it from me. You and grandma will be safe.”

  “So it’s a virus, like a cold?” she asked.

  I nodded. “Yeah, some kind of virus.”

  “So that means I can catch it,” she said. Typical doctor’s kid; sometimes they know too much about things they shouldn’t know about.

  I combed back a lock of hair that had fallen across her forehead. “But you won’t. Because I won’t let you catch it. I’ll be very careful. No drinking after me or things like that.”

  “Can you still hug me?” she asked, a small frown beginning to form.

  “Oh my God. Of course I can.” I pulled her into my arms.

  “Catching this virus is harder than the average cold
. It takes a lot of exposure, and it’s nothing you can get from hugging.”

  I held onto her like a life preserver, drowning in my own self‐ pity. But Ellie, like a typical eight‐year‐old, was ignoring the bad and looking firmly at the positives. “It’s going to be okay, Mom. It’ll be fun. Remember how we used to stay up all night on your days off? And go to the late‐night movies? And have slumber parties,” she said, remembering my short stint on night duty at the hospital. “We can do all of that stuff again, and we’ll have pancakes before the sun comes up. But not tomorrow because I’m really tired. So just let me sleep this time.”

  I smiled through the tears. “That sounds perfect. You sleep in really late, okay?”

  She nodded, a yawn overtaking her. “See you tomorrow night, Mom.”

  The vampire and her daughter. I couldn’t help but smile. “It’ll be great, Ellie. Trust you to make me think about the good side and not feel bad for myself.” I kissed her cheek one last time, tousled her hair and turned out the light.

  Chapter 4

  Mom was pacing in front of the fire when I returned to the living room. Usually she’s a muted-light kind of person, preferring soft lamplight and candles to overhead lighting. But tonight the place was lit up like a Christmas tree. Every light that could be turned on was burning brightly all the way through the house. Even the television was on, the picture glowing above the mantle. From the kitchen, the radio was blaring. The glare of the lights hurt my eyes, and the radio was irritating. I put my hands to my ears.

  “What’s with the radio, Mom?” I asked, but I already knew the answer. She was looking for background noise, something normal like televisions and radios to make her feel better. As if she could light up all the darkness she was sensing from me.

  Forcing herself to stop pacing, Mom started to spin towards the fireplace, her hands outstretched for warmth, but in the space of a breath, she caught herself and turned towards me instead. She couldn’t put her back to me, I realized, and the knowledge was as sharp as a needle. She warmed her hands behind her back; her eyes were hooded, but the fear on her face was as plain as day.