Her Blood Sings: Episode 01

by Vivian Wolkoff

  Darcy raised a hand, silencing both his children.

  "The war is coming. There's nothing to be done," Darcy said. His deep voice still had a trace of English accent - even after centuries living in the New World. "We can only try to do damage control. We must soldier on."

  Chris abandoned his cup on the table and played with his nails, repressing a sigh. He wanted to go out and hunt. He'd love to go to a nightclub and get himself someone young and stupid, bring her back to his room, and drink her blood while he fucked her. He loved getting lost in the pounding sound of the music. He loved to feel hundreds of heartbeats sink together. He craved the abandonment of sex, of feeling someone else's heartbeat in his mouth and fingertips.

  Chris rarely killed his prey. He was a master at Byronism - the vampire's version of catch and release. There had been accidents in the past, but Chris had kept an excellent track record for the past 70 years.

  Lydia raised her voice, attracting his attention.

  She said "It's not just our shifting political alliances, Elliot. There's a very real possibility the Order will strike."

  Elliot snorted at that. "The Order?" He gave Chris a can you believe this? look. "The Order has been as good as dead for the past 40 years or so."

  Lydia turned to Darcy. She had a look of smug defiance on her face.

  Darcy sighed, annoyed. "The witches' Intelligence Office has said they picked up some noise in one of the online forums the Order has."

  That only fueled Elliot even more.

  "See?" he asked. "This is why we shouldn't even be here." He dropped his teacup and saucer with a loud clank on the table. "We fight amongst ourselves and these freaks get ideas."

  Chris sniffed the cup like it was going to bite him. He tuned Elliot out. Elliot was fighting a losing battle. Darcy was right. The war was happening. There was nothing they could do to stop it.

  Every once in a while a vampire was crazy enough to stake claim at a certain territory and challenge the leader of the local Great Clan for his land. Sometimes, the newcomer won. Sometimes he or she lost. It was always messy. Vampires are not exactly subtle when they're fighting. This time, though, the whole thing had taken absurd proportions. The current newcomer, Vicenzo Monicelli, was powerful, but his claim would've been dismissed if he hadn't done such a good job of manipulating the already underlying distrust of other vampires against the current leader of the Great Clan of Europe, Gaius. Sides had been drawn, each getting loyal supporters. The Queen of all witches and her brother swore allegiance to the current Great Clan of Europe while the Unseelie Court had declared that each elf should pick his or her side - which several had done. Other Great Clans had also picked their sides, tainting the whole affair a particular shade of awkward. Things were quickly escalating into a war unlike anything the vampires had seen in centuries.

  So, Monicelli and Gaius had agreed to change venues. There was simply no place in Europe where their battle could go unnoticed. So, their choice of venue was in Darcy's turf. The official reason was that vamps would be able to manage the battle and its aftermath better in the New World. The unofficial reason was that Darcy held a lot of prestige in the myth's world and both parties wanted him on their side.

  Logically, Darcy had promised his unofficial support to both sides.

  Chris and his family were now officially torn in half. He and Lydia would fight for the Great Clan of Europe while Louisa and Elliot would fight for the newcomer. Darcy had claimed he could not choose sides, since Gaius was a personal friend and Monicelli was a business partner, and that he was heartbroken by the whole affair. In fact, Darcy had demanded a last round of negotiations - something unheard of - to try to work a peaceful solution out of this quagmire. Both sides were putting in an effort because Darcy had asked them to.

  If Elliot and Lydia's behavior was any indication of how it would be for the next couple of days, negotiations were bound to fail.

  "What is the plan here?" Chris looked at Darcy.

  "Are we keeping you from something, Chris?" Lydia asked.

  Chris desperately wanted to fuck someone tonight. He was bored out of his mind. But he wasn't about to tell Lydia that. He kept his stare on Darcy and his voice neutral as he asked, "In front of everybody else, we should be ready to tear each other apart. Anything else?"

  "Just in front of other people?" Louisa asked. Her big blue eyes blinked in mock innocence at Chris while her lips twitched into a smile. "I thought we were already pretending to be at each other’s throats. Isn't that what Elliot and Lydia are doing?"

  Chris grinned at that. Louisa was always with her books and experiments but every now and then she cracked a joke. She loved to play the dumb blonde.

  Lydia, on the other hand, didn't appreciate the joke at her expense. She narrowed her eyes at Louisa and sneered. Elliot ignored Louisa all together.

  "I don't like it." Elliot said. He shook his head, trying to add more weight to his claim. "This family has traditions. We always go hunting on our first night in a new town."

  Lydia started talking again. Elliot's and her voices mingled until it was nothing but ruckus.

  "Enough," Darcy snapped. “Gaius is a friend and a good man. He’ll be much kinder to us if he wins.” Darcy dabbed a soft white napkin. "Vicenzo, on the other hand, is a loose cannon. But there's a chance he will win. We have to play safe." He turned to Elliot. "We're done talking about this."

  "I agree with Elliot that certain family traditions have to be maintained," Chris said. He caught, out of the corner of his eye, Lydia open her mouth ready to fight back. "Still, our current divide has to be maintained. Unless we, as siblings, decide to have negotiations of our own." When he was sure he had his siblings attention, Chris added, "Two of us, from opposing sides, could go hunting tonight and two others could go hunting tomorrow. I'll volunteer. Who will join me? Louisa?" He turned to Elliot. "Elliot?"

  Chris and Darcy exchanged the briefest of looks. Darcy's lips twitched into a smile.

  "That would work perfectly for us." Darcy laced his fingers together, seemed to ponder for a moment. "It would set the tone for my speech."

  Lydia relaxed on her chair, but her eyes still shot daggers at Elliot.

  "Who are you sending out tonight, dad?" Louisa asked, her voice always pleasant and neutral. Elliot and Lydia's constant bickering, the ghost of war hanging over them, natural disasters of epic proportions... nothing bothered her. "It has to be a crowded, public place."

  "What is the name of the local Elvin nightclub?" Chris asked. "Do they have one here?"

  Louisa picked up her cell phone from her jeans' pocket and Googled it. "Moonlight."

  "Moonlight it is." After a second or two, Darcy added "Elliot and Christopher should go out tonight."

  Chris glanced at Lydia. She was deep in thought, calculating.

  "This plan is solid,” she said. "When you make the speech, dad, be sure to have the room looking at you. Your words are powerful and Vicenzo is a crowd pleaser. We can use that against him." Lydia was all blonde hair, heart-shaped face and angelic green eyes - which made her next words even more biting. "But that little bitch Vicenzo is shackled to is a problem. She wants Gaius's head. It’s best for everyone if she dies - even if there's no war.”

  Darcy’s stare was lost in the distance. Chris knew he hated to kill one of his kind. There were so few vampires – especially compared to the witches and the weres. But Vicenzo's companion really was a liability. Lydia was right. Darcy nodded, his face heavy with sadness.

  Lydia smiled at Chris and Darcy and leaned back on her chair. She picked up the teapot and poured herself some more blood. She looked like she'd just got daddy to give her a brand new car, not like she'd convinced him to slaughter a 500 year-old vampire.

  Darcy leaned back on his chair and looked at Chris. He looked proud to the point of being smug. “This is an excellent idea, my boy.”

  Elliot huffed in frustration. He was never called my boy or son. Only Chris was.

  Their conve
rsation shifted to more pleasant topics, like the training of the new stock. Eventually, Elliot excused himself, saying he had to get ready to go out. Louisa left soon after. Chris and Lydia left Darcy's room together. Chris loved all his siblings, but Lydia was his favorite. Maybe it was because he had seen her grow up or because she'd always looked at him like she was so proud of him.

  "Look at you, my boy." She bounced a couple of steps, her hands clapping together. "Darcy will appoint you his heir if we really go into battle. I know he will."

  "What makes you think I want that?"

  "Why wouldn't you?" Lydia gave him an are you crazy? look.

  Chris couldn't really answer that he didn't see himself as a leader. Instead, he asked "What about you? Don't you want the job?"

  "Nah. Too much work." Lydia called the elevator. "Besides, Elliot is already a pain in the ass. Can you imagine him questioning every decision I made? I'd kill him. But he likes you. He won't question you."

  They got in the elevator.

  Chris pressed the button to the fifth floor underground. He noticed the stupid grin on Lydia's face. "You're way too happy over this." Before she had the chance to fake innocence, Chris added, "Come on, tell me. What do you have planned?"

  She pretended to be wounded. "Chris, what makes you think I'd have anything up my sleeve?"

  Chris gave her a look.

  Lydia's act imploded.

  "Ok." She pushed her hair back from her face. "I have a guest to entertain later.” She grabbed Chris's arm, practically bouncing. “A werepanther.”

  “A werepanther?”

  “A very kinky werepanther.” She giggled when Chris looked disgusted. “Not all of us hate being a vampire, Chris.”

  “What?” he asked. "Have we met before?"

  "Don't pretend with me." She rolled her eyes at him. "You might like some things about being a vamp. But a part of you still wishes you were with that wife of yours, sharing a dump with a gazzillion kids and growing old together."

  He felt anger burn in his veins. "Oh, really? What gave that away?"

  The elevator pinged and the doors slid open. They walked down the hall.

  “You have a good heart, Chris," Lydia said. Her smile slipped from her lips. She looked concerned, her face set in a frown. "You do a pretty good job of pretending to everyone - even yourself - that you don't, but I know better.”

  His anger deflated. Lydia might annoy him when she got insightful like that, but she loved him. He opened his mouth to say something stupid and juvenile that would end the conversation, but Lydia didn't give him a chance.

  "You used to play with my dolls and tell me stories when I was a little girl," she said with a sad smile. "Elliot never had time for me and Louisa didn't seem to care, but you never turned away. You told me you had wanted a family with your wife and-"

  "Elizabeth is dead and I'm not," Chris said. His voice was clipped.

  "Chris-"

  Lydia raised a hand to touch Chris. He pulled away.

  Her hand dropped at her side. She sighed.

  "My life now is here with you and Darcy and our clan. Like you said, it is what it is."

  She slid between Chris and his room's door, blocking his escape route.

  "Don't neglect your good heart, Chris," Lydia said. "That shit tends to come back to bite you in the ass."

  He barked a laugh, trying to hide his discomfort behind humor. "You're a poet, Lydia."

  She tried very hard not to laugh with him. "I mean it. Do something about it."

  "What do you want me to do?"

  "I don't know." Lydia waved her hands. "Get a puppy. Keep a lover on the side for a while. Do something."

  "Fix a problem I don't think I have?" Chris laughed. "Is that what you're saying?"

  He moved closer, eager to get into his room and end this conversation. Lydia didn't leave her spot in front of his door.

  "I'm worried about you, Chris." Her voice was quiet, small. "I've been worried about you for a while now. I've seen how you look at mortals when you think no one is looking. Part of you still wants a family and love and the normal life we can't have. I'm afraid that with everything that is coming up now, those feelings will come back to haunt you."

  He smiled at her and kissed her forehead. "Don't worry about me. I'm fine."

  Lydia had this look on her face, like Chris had disappointed her. That sent a stab through his unbeating heart.

  She stepped to the side, freeing his path to his room. "If you say so..."

  Chris focused very hard on opening his door and walking into his suite. He was about to close his door when he thought of the perfect joke to crack to make Lydia smile. He leaned into the hallway, ready to call her. Lydia was already gone.

  Chapter 4

  Tamara smoothed her hands over her blouse, trying to rid herself of any imaginary wrinkle that might be on the fabric. She glanced at her watch - something she had done several times in the last couple of hours. She knew it was pointless, but it was always the same song-and-dance. Every time her Aunt Sandra and her Uncle Baltus came to visit she’d spend days in nervous preparation.

  Tamara's aunt and uncle were the closest thing she had to grandparents. Her Aunt Sandra, fresh out of the academy, had taken in Tamara's mom - barely fifteen at the time - when their parents had died in a car accident. Ten years later, Sandra became the proud aunt of a bouncing baby witch - Tamara. She had never lived farther than a walking distance from Aunt Sandra and Uncle Baltus. They were the whole reason why she wanted to join the Intelligence Office, the whole reason why she had jumped to the opportunity to take this special mission - even though she wasn't old enough to be a spy.

  She had left friends and family back in New Orleans and come to college in Thunder Bay to keep an eye on the three earthlings that could cause trouble to the myths in the future. Operations Three Royals, Aunt Sandra had called it. Tamara just hadn't expected to really like two of the three royals, Lucy and Evie. They were innocent, as far as Tamara could tell. They weren't involved with the Order. Not for the first time, Tamara wondered what would happen if she came out to her friends. She was sure they would be fine with her being a witch.

  Tamara sighed and shook those ideas out of her mind. Better focus on things she could do.

  She picked up one of the pillows from the couch and tried to fluff it back to its catalog glory. Tamara's lips twitched in disapproval when the pillow did nothing but just look shriveled and sad. She dropped the pillow back on the couch, hoping it would look better in comparison. Nope! Not better.

  Tamara looked over her shoulder, towards the door. Lucy was due back any moment now. If she was going to do this, she had to move fast. Tamara sighed, her mind made up.

  She pressed her palms on the pillows. What was the use of being a witch if you couldn't make life easier, right? She'd fluff the pillows with magic and move on, instead of worrying about them. Tamara closed her eyes and focused on the image of the pillows when she had seen them on IKEA's website. Then, she locked her mind in that image.

  She whispered "Fuller."

  The key twisted in the keyhole.

  Tamara straightened and span around.

  Lucy opened the door and walked in.

  "What are you doing with that pillow?" Lucy asked.

  Tamara tossed the pillow on the couch and let out a nervous laugh. "Nothing."

  "How long until they arrive?" Lucy asked.

  Tamara glanced at her watch again. "They should be here any minute." She let out a deep sigh. She hated herself at that moment, but she had a job to do. So, she asked Lucy, "Your uncle is coming to town, too, right? Tomorrow?"

  Lucy smiled, her eyes lighting up. She nodded.

  "I guess it'll be your turn to be nervous, then," Tamara said. "I'll be nice to you. I promise."

  "You better," Lucy said, sticking her tongue out at Tamara. "I'll make myself scarce. Moonlight tonight, right?"

  "Right."

  Lucy smiled. "I'll be in my room."

 
; Tamara glanced over her shoulder at the pillow she had dumped on the couch. It had perked back to life, looking like something out of a catalog. She smoothed her hands over her blouse and jeans. She glanced at her watch and resumed pacing.

  ***

  Tamara sat on the couch with her aunt and uncle, who were in the twin armchairs Lucy had bought for their home at some thrift store.

  Uncle Baltus looked relaxed on his chair, his eyes warm on Tamara's face. Aunt Sandra was looking at everything, analyzing.

  Between them, sat coffee, cream, sugar, a cake with frothy whipped cream on top of it, and some delicate-looking finger sandwiches. Tamara had put everything on display on the coffee table with great care, sure that they would love the food. She couldn't even look at the food. She was too nervous to eat anything.

  The device Tamara liked to call Nothingness was spinning right next to the food. The actual name was some complicated thing in German that Tamara never bothered to learn. The Nothingness looked like a silver spinning top that moved and moved without ever stopping. It blocked all sound from coming in and out of the room. Tamara and her family were safe to talk and no one would hear them.

  Aunt Sandra's eyes sat on a framed picture on the coffee table: Lucy, Tamara and Evie in their uniforms in front of the café. It was a picture all three girls had.

  "The Murray girl looks pleasant enough," Aunt Sandra remarked.

  "Lucy is great," Tamara said, slightly more defensive than she needed to be. "Is she really related to Irving Murray? The Irving Murray?"

  "She's his niece and the only relative he maintains weekly contact with." Aunt Sandra sipped her coffee. "Has she mentioned him?"

  "No. Not recently," Tamara lied. "She did say her father and her uncle had a falling out a few years back and they don't talk."

  "She's lying. We have records of the two Murray men talking once a year, at least."

  "Aunt Sandra, maybe Lucy doesn't know about it. Have you ever considered that?" Tamara's anger picked up strength as she went along. "Maybe she doesn't make it her business to know all about other people's lives."

  Aunt Sandra opened her mouth to speak, but Uncle Baltus spoke first.