Blood Crescent

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Blood Crescent Page 9

by S. M. McCoy


  “Because you had told me you felt faint, of course. Fresh air will make you feel better.” His voice, like silk. Faint, of course. Hmph, he probably wanted to bring the sheep away from the village. Vile men, one-track minds.

  “I don—” She was cut off before she could finish.

  “Shhh, enjoy the stars. We’re high enough in the city to see them.”

  “Of course, they’re beautiful,” she mumbled. She was like putty in his hands. A puppet on his strings. Poor girl, she had to learn the hard way about men like him. Controlling, manipulative and only after one thing. Then again, I had to learn the hard way too.

  Pft, stars. What a line. I rolled my eyes. I’d had enough of this as well. I needed to leave before I slapped him silly for her. But it wasn’t my place to defend the ignorant.

  I felt like my ears were burning. Was he staring at me again? I was not going to turn to look, because if he was I’d get stuck in his eyes again, and if he wasn’t then I’d feel foolish for thinking he was. No-win situation. Best to leave that alone.

  Wait, yes. I could leave, and I had to turn around to leave. I needed to get ready for the performance anyway. I was just leaving, I wouldn’t be foolish for looking at my surroundings or him for that matter while I was exiting the scene. It’s only natural, no weirdness, just looking before stepping. Perfectly normal.

  Oh damn…

  He was staring at me. No, he wasn’t. It’s perfectly natural for someone to look at a moving object. Just keep moving…escaping.

  Except…he moved. It all felt like slow motion, like a car wreck and he laughed at the whole ridiculous scenario. He caught my shoulder and didn’t have to say a thing as I huffed and continued to escape.

  Finally.

  Out of sight.

  I spotted Aislin looking confused around the food table, so I went to join her.

  “You look lost.”

  “No, I was looking for the lost.” She turned toward me. “But now you’re found, so let’s get ready.” She grabbed my hand and dragged me across the room to the changing area. I guessed we were performing earlier than anticipated. This whole day had been speeding by faster than usual.

  “What time is it?”

  She looked over her shoulder as she opened her bag.

  “It’s almost eight.”

  Pulling out her dress, she held it up to herself and looked in the mirror mentally preparing herself for a crowd of watchful eyes.

  “Of course.” I slowly moseyed to the clothing bag—my suede-bottom shoes were stuffed in there somewhere.

  I had been missing more time, but I couldn’t tell her that. It was then…it had to be. I must have turned on autopilot around the time I went outside. Of course, no one just disappears after starting a conversation without saying goodbye. I wonder what I said? Did he tell me about my mother? Damn it all.

  “You took off the necklace,” she stated, emotionless. It was as if letting out a single ounce of any one emotion would have all of them tumbling out like a mudslide flooding her thoughts. Her monotone voice was the thin wall keeping her emotions together. That’s something I could understand, that’s something I could relate to. Maybe she did get it.

  “What?” I lifted my hand to touch my chest where the crystal should’ve been.

  “The necklace, did you take it off just now for the performance? Or did you remove it earlier?” Her attitude was a bit more abrupt than normal. Usually lighthearted, her words seemed hard right now–restrained. She needed a lie right now. She needed me to tell her that I didn’t lose time, that I didn’t lose the necklace before this moment.

  I needed her to believe that lie, because losing the necklace was too much of a correlation to losing time that even a part of me believed her magic stories now. Okay, a lot of me believed in magic now. So even I needed to believe the lie. I hadn’t lost any time at all while wearing the necklace, and the second I lose it, hours are gone in a heartbeat.

  “Can’t have the necklace on during a dance anyway, it would get in the way.” I didn’t want to worry her.

  “Did you remove it?” She turned away.

  “Not that I remember…” I couldn’t lie to her. It just came out like she was using her clairvoyance or forcing her aura to be honest with her or something. It didn’t seem normal.

  “That you remember?” She looked up from slipping her left foot into her shoe, her eyes fiery as she pressed for more information.

  “I don’t remember what happened in the last hour before I saw you at the food.” It all fell out of my mouth and before I could say anything more or spin it or explain she snapped at me.

  “Don’t leave me in the dark! I need to know these things.” She angrily shoved on the other shoe.

  It’s not my fault that I couldn’t lie to her. Something was weird about our connection ever since that day.

  “I didn’t know I lost time until you told me what time it was. That’s why I asked!” Feeling defensive, I snapped back, latching on the fake diamond covered necklace then slipping on the matching bracelets.

  “Someone is here…” She trailed off with her thoughts. Her face changed expressions: from anger, to aghast, to fear, to determination. “Someone followed us.”

  “I am sure it fell off or something, it happens all the time. Missing jewelry is common, no need to start the hysterics.” Though the possibility was there. Her concern was contagious. My eyes were welling up with emotion and I knew the Council had found me, Victor was right.

  “We’ll talk about this later. I need time to think, and we have a job to do.” She opened the changing room doors to see our partners waiting impatiently for us. I followed directly behind her.

  “You ladies ready now? Always making the men wait,” Zack joked and held out his arm to escort Aislin.

  “I believe we’re up first.” Miguel extended his arm to me. I wrapped my arm lightly within his, like a feather hovering in the wind, as the announcer introduced us with his best Ben Stein impression, over hushed chatter in the background. He continued prattling on about donations for various charities.

  Miguel smiled, patting my hand more firmly in place on his arm as we walked toward the dance floor. I wanted to squirm on the inside, but I imagined Victor was with me. This was his arm, this was our dance. I wished so hard for it.

  “Let’s give one more round of applause for the orchestra. Don’t worry, folks, they’ll be back after their much-needed break.” The man with the microphone clapped and smiled briefly then continued, “Now, without further delay, we have Ballroom Arts Studio’s splendid dancers here tonight giving you all…” The excess noise was blocked out.

  All I could hear was the steady breathing of my partner and our soft taps as we stepped onto the floor to take position. His arm left mine and Aislin was waving her hands at me urgently, freaking out. This was what I lived for. This feeling where the world disappeared, and all there was me, the music, and the dance of feelings in the tones and beats. Even Miguel disappeared for me…if I didn’t know any better, Miguel wasn’t there at all.

  I was nervous, like any other person before a performance. Which was a great feeling when feelings were becoming dull, like my body was numb. I wanted to give my best, shine brightly for the audience because they didn’t deserve less of me. I wouldn’t want to waste their time unless I could momentarily let them escape reality. In order to clear my thoughts and not shake from nerves I liked to think about what I was wearing.

  I felt like a million dollars in one of the most expensive pieces of clothing I owned, a gorgeous one piece covered in crystals and feathers. Being decorated in crystals makes a girl feel like she can take on the world, one glittering step at a time. My right foot pointed toward my partner as I faced away, head slightly down with the left heel of my hand pressing to my forehead casting my eyes in shadow.

  The lights were lowered to a soft ambiance; every Swarovski crystal captured the light of the focused filtered spotlights perfectly, my silhouette in wait for the music’s
cue.

  My mind was clear; nothing but my movements ran through my head. This was what kept me sane on days when nothing made sense, even if it was dancing with Miguel. Because he wasn’t Miguel right now, he was a man in love and I was a woman in pain being pulled toward and away from what he offered. His face blurred to me. Miguel was gone, and I saw violet eyes, and blond hair sweeping across someone else’s face. The music had a story and I was its lead.

  I was ready.

  But something was wrong.

  He was so familiar to me and it felt like I was hallucinating, because everything felt so real, but my eyes lied to me. He was handsome, a scar down his face. The way the hair didn’t grow in just a straight patch on his left eyebrow reminded me of all the times I stared into Victor’s face, but he was different somehow.

  The music started, and my mind was empty aside from the routine. I stumbled forward, playing my part in the dance. We were acting, through music, through dance. He was a man enticing a girl. It was a story of the electricity between two people when they first connected. That moment when they had to take that leap into uncertainty and admit that they were attracted. There was a push, and there was a pull, and the only time I felt it was when I played along with the movement of the song.

  The rumba captured that moment of intense need for the other person.

  The dance of love.

  And my heart ached because all I saw was this man that was so like Victor and yet nothing like him staring back at me. I wanted to cry with how much the song really did reflect how I felt about him.

  The audience weren’t the only ones feeling faint from tapping into the energy of the dance and feeling the connection, the need, the want. But all I was doing was mimicking. I could sense their envy of the passion infused in the dance. But I was the one who was envious of them because they felt the real thing. This was just an act. This wasn’t Victor, and I never let him feel what I felt right then. I lied to him every time I saw him.

  As we ended the dance, I turned and sank down, grasping my fingers down his torso. He pulled me up with one finger, caressing my cheek and spun me so I faced away from him as he held me close. My head pressed against his chest and my hand rested on his cheek.

  The audience clapped and whistled in response. I stared into the crowd for that momentary freeze frame at the end of a dance. The only other set of violet eyes in the building were staring at us. The spotlights muted for the tone, then faded farther until it was darkness.

  I closed my eyes and when I opened them it was light again with the unknown man turning me, and I weaved my arm within his as he escorted me off stage. I felt my heart pounding in my chest, because he wasn’t Miguel…his face still didn’t turn back to Miguel. I couldn’t shake the face from my eyes. I looked up at him and he smiled. I held on to him tighter not sure of myself, not sure of my senses.

  “Victor…”

  Aislin was panicking on the sidelines, and then he was gone.

  Abnormally angelic looks were hard to ignore. I wasn’t just talking about the guy that stared at us when we danced, but the face I saw transposed over what should be Miguel.

  I didn’t let anyone get close enough to break me. Deep blue eyes, charming overtures, and messy maple-brown hair. Gorgeous people were dangerous. He knew how to get under my skin and see me underneath all the lies. I couldn’t afford to let him turn me into something more, not if it meant risking what I searched for. Losing myself in someone else meant losing my mom and losing who I was before the night I was bitten.

  I shook my head. I needed to get Victor out of my head, and those intense mysterious eyes that seemed to follow me across the room. He didn’t look at me like a person, he seemed hungry like I was a savory dessert. And as creepy as it was to see Victor in the face of another man, it was comforting to think of him being here to protect me.

  I didn’t have the necklace anymore, and my dreams were melding into reality. I finally reached Aislin, when I looked around for the man I saw.

  “Aislin, where’s Miguel?”

  She bit her lip. “Chrys, we have to leave now, something is very wrong. I thought Miguel was out there with you, but the energy in the room shifted, you were dancing with a serpent. He didn’t harm you yet, but we can’t stay here, we need to…”

  “I need a change in wardrobe…” I needed to get out of these clothes and escape, like Aislin said, but they can’t see us leaving.

  “Will a jacket and a hat be enough?” I looked up from my chaotic thoughts. “Or do you need the whole ensemble?” I raised my eyebrow at the dark angel skeptically. Where was his model that followed him around anyways?

  “Maybe a tie too.” He began removing his tie.

  “Are you serious?”

  “Here you are. I assume you’ll be the one wearing it.” He slipped the tie around my neck. I didn’t know whether I should be grateful or insulted at the fact that he assumed wearing a tie was enough of a disguise, and he had no idea what I needed a costume for anyway. “The show must go on.” He tightened the tie up above my collar, nearing the wounds I’d been covering up. With his left hand he brushed my hair to adjust the curls.

  The curl! I shied away, eyes widening with surprise. His darted to my secret. I was damaged goods; the serpents would know what that meant. I felt this sudden pull within me to tell him everything. Who I was, why I was there, and that I had been watching him like he had watched me. The moment passed. Then it seemed he let my reaction slide as he recovered his hand to do better things, like removing his coat.

  I looked from him to Aislin and back. If he was a serpent he did an impeccable job of restraining himself from attacking us.

  “You’re an angel. Thank you for your help.” Why was he helping me out? I guess I didn’t have much in the way of time to question his motives. But he’d show his true colors soon enough. Gorgeous, piercing eyes were probably contacts anyway. Wait, where’s that girl he was with anyway?

  He draped the coat over my shoulders. It was huge compared to me. But it wasn’t about looking cute, it was about looking different and escaping.

  “Anything but… Looks like you’re next.” He pointed to the stage and Aislin grabbed my arm to ditch the whole event.

  The announcer called us back onto the stage to do the next routine and in a frustrated growl she reluctantly shoved Zack to the side and took his place to dance one more dance.

  He flashed a devious smile toward me. Devious because no smile should ever make the person next to the recipient swoon. I smiled back then nodded toward him, but made sure not to look at those eyes of his, if they even did half the damage they were doing to the ladies next to him, it was best to stay away. There was power in beautiful eyes and I would not have them steal my soul like the rest of his female victims.

  “Thank you again.” He removed his hat and placed it on my head carefully over my hair.

  “Let’s get this over with.” Aislin guided me to the middle of the floor I nodded to Zack next to the DJ. The music started and I looked to Aislin to make sure she wasn’t going to explode with furry. She actually seemed more anxious than anything else…her eyes darting across the crowd. She looked for serpents, but I highly doubted she knew what she was looking for. I certainly didn’t.

  The movements were dramatic, sharp and yet fluid telling the story of two people struggling to become free and realizing the power of love and friendship. Music was my connection even in the slightest to those feelings. I held on to the hope that the emotions would linger after the song ended. That release from self and mortal anguish; if only for a moment, to feel someone else’s connection.

  My gums ached, and my head pounded in my skull. Even the lights on my skin felt different. I wanted to feel something other than the pull within my throat that craved to eat everything, but nothing tasted fresh, nothing filled my thirst.

  I felt a moment of release, after so long of feeling like a rag doll.

  Dancing did that for me.

  It was like a warm bu
rning sensation piercing my nerves. Painfully coursing through my body, but after it hit an area it became numb immediately. A relief. I felt heavy, but a little more free. Energy swirled around me and I felt myself absorbing a contact high until…

  Screams resounded through the crowd. Like a high-pitched call from a swarm of vultures announcing their final swoop in, to eat the dying flesh of a defenseless safari animal, called the upper class. It was certainly not the screams of happy excitement at the performance. They were the screams of…fear, like the ones that haunted my dreams.

  Our routine was going fine but both of us stopped due to the commotion. I touched my neck to make sure I was not bleeding. But even that wouldn’t have made multiple people scream like their very lives depended on someone knowing what even words could not portray.

  Looking at my hand…I was fine, no blood. The crowd was in mass hysteria, trampling over one another and pushing each other aside. People were turning away from the dance floor.

  Someone finally formed words to speak, yelling for 911.

  Everyone was gathering around a circle toward the back. It was like a traffic accident, people slowed down to watch and stare. But in this case I had no idea what the accident was. People drew near to satiate their curiosity. Normally I, too, would’ve felt compelled to know what the situation was. Just like a fly in a venus plant, I wanted to know what was going on like everyone else.

  On the other hand, I, at that moment, couldn’t move at all; toward or away from the screaming and panicking people. Desire had nothing to do with it, if desire was all it took to be at the front of the circling people, I probably would have, just to know even if it meant being closer to danger. Fight or flight, two normal responses. And yet they don’t talk much about that in between stages of shock.

  Like I knew deep down in my sinking, slow beating heart that it was bad and everyone should leave or be prepared for a fight but all I could do was think about it. Nothing more, nothing less. Just thoughts.

  I still felt too heavy to move. By this point shock seemed like a ridiculous excuse not to move. How long did shock last anyway? And yet I was unable to do anything except pose as a statue, a living piece of art in the middle of a grand ballroom, well a large conference space decorated lavishly as a ballroom to be more precise. The pain was gone but so was everything else along with it.

 

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