Blood Like Poison

by M. Leighton

  “I’m so sorry. My balance is terrible today.”

  Mom put the coy in coy.

  “What time does Dad’s flight get in, Mom?”

  Like magic, Mom sobered considerably at the mention of Dad. She always did. Straightening, she smoothed her hair.

  “Not until morning.”

  “Oh, I thought it was tonight.” That was not entirely true, but just mentioning him got the desired result.

  “No, and you’d better be home at a decent hour, young lady. You know he’ll want to spend some time with you tomorrow, so you can’t be sleeping the day away.”

  “I’ll have her home early, Mrs. Heller.”

  Mom turned her eyes to Bo and I could almost see her melt. For a moment, I sympathized with her. I knew exactly how that felt.

  “Call me Becky,” she oozed. “It’s so nice to finally meet you, Bo.”

  “It’s my pleasure, ma’am.”

  “Becky,” she repeated.

  Bo smiled graciously. “Becky.”

  Feeling disgusted and mortified, I tugged at Bo again. “Let’s go.”

  As it turned out, Devon was driving. He’d picked up Savannah first then Bo, and then the trio had come for me. Bo opened the passenger door to Devon’s Mazda and helped me in.

  Savannah turned around in her seat and greeted me excitedly.

  “Those shoes rock,” she declared.

  “Thanks. I got them for my birthday.”

  “Wish I got cool stuff like that for my birthday.”

  I didn’t mention that I’d bought them for myself with the money that my parents had given me a month and a half later because it took them that long to remember that I even had a birthday.

  Savannah’s red hair was pulled up into a loose bun atop her head. Tendrils had already escaped the knot and were floating around her face like dancing flames. She wore a chic black gauzy top and a velvet choker around her throat, the tails trailing down over her collarbones and anchored with tiny metal crosses tied to the ends. Though her style wasn’t necessarily “hip,” Savannah was fashionable in her own way and she wore it flawlessly.

  “You look great,” I told her, and that was entirely true. I felt bland and monochromatic by comparison.

  “So do you,” Bo said, having climbed in beside me.

  His eyes roved me from head to toe and shone with appreciation. The look he gave me when his eyes met mine again made me feel like a beautiful princess.

  “Thank you.” My smile was so wide, it was almost painful.

  “Yeah, Ridley. I’m not the one who looks like a Vanessa Hudgens–Hayden Panettiere love child.”

  “What?” I turned my gaze to her where she leaned around the front seat. “I do not.”

  Savannah looked to Devon. “Tell her, Dev. She does, doesn’t she?”

  Devon craned his neck and looked back at me. “Yeah, you sorta do.”

  I looked to Bo. He was simply smiling. “A blend of two gorgeous people? Why complain?”

  I rolled my eyes as Devon started the engine and pulled away from the curb.

  The movie was awesome. Scarier than any movie had a right to be, but it was incredible. Savannah sat upright, wide-eyed and fascinated by the show. I spent the entire one hundred and two minutes scrunched down in my chair, trying to hide behind my hands.

  By the time we got out, I was struggling not to be shaken. Truth be known, though, I was already dreading bedtime. I’d probably have some nasty nightmares.

  Bo held the theater door open for me and as I passed by him, he whispered, “Looks like you might need some all-night company tonight.”

  He was grinning mischievously when I looked up at him. Warmth spread through me, radiating from my suddenly-steamy skin. I’d use any available excuse to get Bo to stay with me.

  “I think you might be right.”

  My adrenaline was already sky high from the movie, so I was practically vibrating by the time we got to the car and headed for the marina.

  Bo and I talked quietly in the back seat while Devon and Savannah occupied their own world in the front seat. For a second, my eyes were drawn to the gap between the seats where I could see that Devon held Savannah’s hand on the console. He fiddled with her fingers in a casual, intimate way that made it seem like he’d been holding her hand his entire life.

  As if by gravity, my attention was pulled back to Bo. His head was leaned back against the headrest and his eyes were closed as he told me about a dog he used to have. Listening to him, it was easy to see that he was an animal lover and I wondered at how hard it must’ve been for him, having to take the lives of so many to sustain himself for those first few weeks.

  Bo was absently drawing circles on the inside of my wrist with his fingertips. His soothing touch coupled with the quiet timbre of his voice lulled my overwrought senses and I felt safer and more loved than I could ever remember feeling. I felt like I was as highly attuned to Bo as I was to my own body.

  He stopped speaking and lifted his head, as if he could sense it as well. Reluctantly, I shifted my gaze from his mouth to his eyes. Without a word, he simply watched me. And I watched him back.

  His shimmering eyes drew me in and held me. And in that moment, I knew—without a shadow of a doubt, I knew—that he loved me as much as I loved him, and that it wasn’t a childish, fleeting crush. It was a real, true, deep love—the sacrificing kind that was excruciating; the transcendent kind that time and distance couldn’t diminish; the eternal kind that even death couldn’t weaken. It was ours and it was forever.

  With a heartrending certainty, I knew that I would never love another person more than I loved Bo. Before long, he’d be taken from me and I’d live the rest of my life mourning the loss of the only person to ever walk the earth who could make me whole.

  It was in that precious instant of perfect clarity that he found us.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Something heavy landed on the roof of the car with a loud and terrifying thump.

  “What the—”

  The car shook as if something was on top of it, wiggling it. But what was strong enough to move a car?

  Alarm bells sounded in my head and I looked over at Bo. He was tight-lipped, his expression grave.

  The car shuddered again and Devon swerved. The right front tire slid off into the gravel and we fish-tailed for a few nerve-racking seconds before he regained control of the car.

  “Ohmigod, what is that?” Savannah had her feet braced against the dash and her knuckles were white where she gripped the handle above the door.

  “Don’t stop, Devon,” Bo ordered sternly.

  The engine whined as Devon pressed on the gas. We lurched forward and all four of us looked back, anxious to see if whatever had assailed us had fallen off in the road.

  I was the first to turn back around.

  “Devon, look out!”

  Up ahead, shining brilliantly in the headlights, was a person standing in the middle of the road.

  “Devon, don’t stop,” Bo said again.

  “What? There’s someone in the road. I can’t just—”

  “Devon, don’t stop.”

  “Devon, you have to stop,” Savannah screamed as we bore down on the figure in the road.

  With a squeal of tires, Devon mashed on the brakes. We came to a screeching halt that threw all of us forward in the car.

  When we were once more settled in our seats, our attention was drawn to the person standing in the center of the dark, country lane.

  It was Trinity.

  Dressed in a solid white baby doll dress and wearing no shoes, Trinity’s hair was a tangled mess that hung wildly about her shoulders. Her skin was only a shade darker than her dress and her eyes were a washed out green. It was her lips that stood out the most, though. They were blood red and curled back from her teeth, teeth that now included four elongated canines.

  “Is that Trinity?” Savannah’s voice was low and breathy, laced with fear and confusion.

  “Stay in th
e car,” Bo said, as he opened the door.

  In a flash that was too fast for us to see, Trinity was at the car, holding Bo’s door closed.

  With one sharp extension of his arm, Bo pushed Trinity out of the way and got out of the car. She stumbled back and began stepping away from him.

  “What’s wrong with her?” It was Savannah that spoke again.

  I didn’t answer and Devon didn’t say a word. Though I could only see him in profile, his expression was full of both shock and disgust.

  I scooted over into Bo’s seat and rolled down the window so I could hear.

  “Trinity, don’t make this mistake. Go home and leave them alone.”

  Trinity laughed, a maniacal sound that made my skin crawl.

  “Oh, no. I’ve waited too long for this. Besides, they’re my gift. How rude would it be to turn down a gift?”

  “Your gift?” Bo asked what we were all thinking, only he came up with an answer before everyone else.

  Bo turned a circle, scanning the road and the woods beyond, looking for something. Or someone.

  He tipped his chin up and I saw his nostrils flare. He whipped his head around, his gaze focused on a spot over the top of the car in the forest. It was another few seconds before I could smell anything, but when the scent finally reached my nose, my stomach clenched in fear as my mind spun in disbelief.

  “It can’t be,” I whispered.

  “What?” Devon’s voice was equally quiet.

  A fraction of a second later, another thump sounded on the roof of the car. Devon and I jumped. Savannah yelped.

  Another thump toward the back of the car had us all turning toward the trunk. Out the back window, a pair of jeans-clad legs came into view.

  As they hopped gracefully down off the car, I felt the change in Bo and, like dominos, I felt the change in me.

  It was the fire, the consuming flames of something that I couldn’t control and didn’t understand, but something I recognized from that night in the woods. The same night I faced the man that stood only feet from me now. It was Lars, in his fully human form. I didn’t want to believe my eyes, but how could I not? He was standing only a few feet away.

  How could that be? I thought, but then I remembered thinking that killing him was far too easy. Apparently I’d been right—it wasn’t that easy.

  A deep growl rumbled in Bo’s throat, sending chills down my arms and legs. Like a predator, he moved around Lars, as if to flank him. A hiss sounded from the rear, no doubt coming from Lars.

  “Come and get it, pup,” he taunted Bo.

  Bo made a low, vicious roaring sound that triggered a reaction in Trinity.

  She laughed, albeit a bit nervously, and said, “You can’t kill him, Bo. If you do, you’ll never know who was behind your father’s death.”

  I saw Bo stiffen as his stalking motion stilled. He neither moved nor made a single sound.

  “Now, it’s time to join him,” Lars said.

  His words poured through me like gasoline, turning the low-burning embers of anger into a raging wild fire of fury.

  Breathing heavily and moving numbly, I opened the car door and stepped out. In that same instant, Lars put his foot on the rear bumper.

  “Here, darling,” he called to Trinity.

  With a quick flick of his leg, the car was ripped away from me as Lars sent Devon and Savannah careening down the road toward Trinity.

  I looked to my right and watched it happen in slow motion. The smoke of burning tires curled into the air. The acrid stench of it stung my nostrils. I was frantically trying to think of how I could help my friends and help Bo at the same time. When Lars moved, my attention shifted completely back to him and a choice was made. I couldn’t leave Bo.

  He took one step toward me and Bo sprang into action. With a crazed bellow that pierced the night like a sword, Bo launched himself at Lars.

  They tumbled into the grass along the side of the road, grappling and struggling for the upper hand. I watched, breathless and terrified, as they bit and tore at each other. I heard the snap and crunch of bones breaking, the coarse crackle of clothes tearing. But it wasn’t until I heard Bo cry out in pain that I felt the agony begin inside my own body.

  The knives sliced through my skin, tearing across my face and chest. They made their way down my arms, freeing the fury inside me, letting it pour out to consume the object of my wrath.

  The next tortured moan that I heard was not Bo’s; it came from Lars. Satisfaction washed through me, but it did nothing to dampen the flames of my rage. It simply propelled me forward, leading me to the two bodies that wrestled in the darkness.

  I concentrated on the form of Lars and I let the burn and the pain of my fear for Bo take hold. I used it, directed it, focused it. On Lars. It flowed through me, out of me, around me until every nerve, every inch of skin, every fiber of muscle was saturated with it.

  I couldn’t contain the cry. It tore through me and burst out of my throat with a life of its own. I closed my eyes to it, gave my soul to it, until I heard an answering cry from Lars.

  I felt the shift in power. I felt the surge as Bo overtook him. When I opened my eyes, Bo had pinned Lars to the ground and, with a howl of victory, he bore his teeth and drilled them into the soft tissue of Lars’s neck.

  Triumph—Bo’s, mine, ours—flooded me, eclipsing everything else. It was heady, intoxicating, all-encompassing. It washed over me, wave after delicious wave, until it hit me with a blast of weakness that sent me staggering to the ground.

  It was then that I realized what was happening. Bo was draining Lars. And it was killing him.

  “Bo, stop!” My breath was not enough to make much sound.

  Bo continued.

  I felt the poison, the death of it, creeping through my chest as if I’d taken it in as well. I struggled to my knees, desperate to make my way to Bo.

  “Bo, please!”

  On all fours, I put one shaky limb in front of the other, never taking my eyes off Bo. I couldn’t move fast enough to get to him, the frailty was so debilitating. I felt it sinking further and further into my body and I knew Bo didn’t have long.

  “Bo,” I panted, desperate to reach him.

  My heart raced frantically until I saw Bo slump onto Lars’s chest and then roll lifelessly onto his side. Terror ripped a gaping hole in my heart.

  “Bo,” I cried, dragging my knees through the gravel.

  I felt the cool air dry the tears that were streaming down my face, but they were too fast, too many. They dripped from my chin, hitting the ground in a delicate patter, as I pushed myself toward Bo.

  Somewhere in the distance, I could hear someone calling Bo’s name over and over and over. It was my own voice, but it was hard to hear over the frenzied pounding of my heart as it drummed in my ears.

  When I reached Bo, I gently pushed him onto his back. Every inch of visible skin was that unhealthy greenish black and it was all cracked like the Nevada desert. His mouth and his shirt were stained with blood the color of tar. I didn’t need to be told that it was the poisonous, memory-rich blood that Bo had sought for so long. I didn’t need to be told the power of it. And the devastation. I’d felt it.