Hotblood (29 page)

In the changing room, I stood and stared at the perfectly shaped back of a woman who sat on a bench, her towel around her. It wasn’t the perfection of my mother that stopped me, it was the black tattoos that crisscrossed up her spine, spreading out to cover more of her back around her heart. I saw that they went all the way up the back of her neck. If I shaved her, would I find more tattoos on her head? She pulled the towel around her, and I turned away, taking a deep breath. No wonder she always wore collared shirts.

Once we were in the car again, Snowy started going into raptures about her massage.

“
I didn’t get a massage,” I said, and felt a little bit left out.

“
I thought that would be too much touching for you,” my mother said and looked at me thoughtfully. “Snowy was telling me how little you enjoyed shopping. There is a place in this neighborhood that you might find more to your taste.”

We got in the car and drove on a narrow street that was full of pawnshops and bars. My mother found a parking spot in front of an old building with a flickering sign in front of it.

“
You might find something in here,” she said.

I unbuckled my seatbelt and opened the door. I noticed that Snowy and my mother hadn’t moved. “Aren’t you coming?” I asked.

“
No, we’ll wait in the car while you go and see if there’s anything in there you like,” my mother said.

I turned towards the shop, curious, but there was nothing to see, the curlicue metal twining over the window and door blocked my view. I shrugged and slammed the door of the car. Maybe my mother would explain later. I turned the handle of the shop and walked inside.

First thing that I noticed was the bird. It was black and as big as my head; it stared at me with its beady eyes without moving. I leaned towards it and poked the beak. It swung away from me, then began swinging back. I ducked looking above my head and could see that it was hanging on wires from the dark ceiling that arched high above my head. Someone had a bizarre sense of humor. The black walls, different hued gray tiles, and iron grill gave an impression of a prison, or worse, a prison cafeteria. The rack of clothes by the door, men’s suits from different time periods were all black or gray, nice somber colors appropriate for a funeral. There was a jacket that looked about my size, maybe for a younger man, and I took it off the hanger and slipped it on over my dress, keeping an eye out for the returning swing of the bird.

“
Very nice. We have some Edwardian blazers as well if you’d like to take a look at the women’s section,” a distinguished voice said. The accent was British, and so was the nose that the gentleman looked down at me from.

“
Hi there. Yeah. I like old clothes.” So did he by the look of it. He looked dusty, like he’d been hanging somewhere for too long.

“
What about footwear?” He eyed me up and down with a sneer.

“
Footwear?” I looked at his feet. They looked dusty too.

“
Shoes, boots, you know, the things you wear on your feet. I can’t help but notice the discrepancy between your lovely circa 1940’s wrap dress and your Victorian boots.”

“
Oh. What would you suggest?” I glanced down. I thought they were great.

“
Why not some nice chunky heeled t-straps, or some cowboy boots.”

“
Cowboy boots?” The English guy wearing one of the suits from a former century must have said something else.

“
I am referring to the effect of contrast. Either stick with the same style, or go for a sharp contrast.”

“
I’d like both then,” I said cheerfully. “Do you have any more circa 1940 dresses?” I asked browsing the rack again.

“
Of course,” he said with a sneer. Okay. I definitely liked him, dusty or not.

An hour later, with packages that were properly wrapped in brown paper and string, I came out of the shop. My mother got out to unlock the trunk while I carefully balanced them in my arms. I was putting my new things in carefully when someone roughly shoved me from behind.

“
Watch it,” I said turning then stopped talking. It was not my mother. The guy was too skinny for his height. He grinned at me, and the friends standing around him laughed in anticipation, edging closer. It was getting dark, and the street was deserted. I turned closing the trunk and met my mother’s eye as she looked at me curiously. What was she waiting for?

“
Hey, maybe there was something in there that I’d like.” The skinny guy said grabbing my arm.

“
We don’t need what’s in the trunk. I like what we’ve got right here,” another voice said.

There was a crack of thunder and my mother showed the boys her teeth and stopped leaning on the car. “I think it’s past your bedtime, honey,” she said in a voice that was smoky and dark. The suit fit the voice. The boys guffawed as my mother moved closer in a way that I’d never seen her move before. It was so smooth it didn’t look like it could be real. The sky darkened and another flash of lightning illuminated the blade in her hand the moment before it touched the skinny guy’s throat.

“
Dari, the first rule of defense is to notice your surroundings. After that it’s about distraction and disarmament.” My mother smiled sweetly at the guy before she performed a move so quickly I only saw his head jerk back before he collapsed at her feet. The other guys ran off with looks of fear on their faces I almost found comical. “Shall we?” she asked, gesturing to the car.

I tried to unclench my teeth, to breath calmly, but there was a roaring sound in my ears. I wanted to use my teeth, to taste some blood and rip something apart. I closed my eyes trying to contain myself. After a slight struggle, I opened them and stumbled to my door, my head throbbing viciously.

After the long drive home, we pulled up at Snowy’s house and Snowy reached over the seats to give us both awkward hugs.

“
Thank you so much. That was just the most fun!”

“
See you Monday,” I said wondering which part she found the most exciting, probably the pink polos. It hadn’t been so bad. It was less awkward than I’d expected to run into Smoke and Ash. I didn’t want to think of the end with the guys. I could still feel those clammy hands on my arms, the fear mixed with anger in my stomach. I’d spent so long working to control the fury that I didn’t know how to fight without completely losing it. Maybe Satan was right about practicing. I really didn’t want to get thrown into a tree though.

At home my mother said, “Dari can you come up to my room for a minute? I want to talk to you about something, all right?”

I wanted to take all my bags upstairs and go through my treasures again, not to mention hang my painting and admire it, but I followed her into the enormous white bedroom and adjoining Hollywood style vanity.

“
You’ve never been interested in makeup, but now I thought you may have changed your mind.”

“
Okay,” I said and slumped down in the chair.

“
Sit up, please. Thank you. I didn’t raise you as a daughter of Slide. I come up in a family with strict expectations for its members. Everything is a tradition, a rite, from tea to sports, everything means more than you’d expect. Lewis isn’t unaware of my house. That makes me feel like he needs to be treated differently than your other friends, Osmond, or Smoke, for instance. I know and respect his great uncle a great deal. He’s been here a very long time, and has always been a just and good man. He is the reason I have been so negligent about checking up on Lewis. I trust Old Peter to a certain degree, and therefore trust his associates. If we are going to solve the riddle of your soul however we’ll need all the clues. Lewis has some, I’m sure of it. Tomorrow he will come with Old Peter. I would like you to help him feel at ease, comfortable enough to tell us what we need to know.”

I’d felt less and less comfortable as this conversation went on. I took a deep breath but at the end of it I still didn’t know what to say.

“
Dari, the boys in the city didn’t run into you by accident.” Her words were quiet.

I shivered and nodded. “I don’t know what you want me to do, but whatever Lewis knows about me I’m sure he’ll tell you.”

“
Us.” She said firmly. “He’ll tell us.” She took a moment to take a fluffy brush and swirl it all over my face before spinning the chair around so I could see myself in the mirror.

I sat staring at a total stranger, a stranger easily as gorgeous as Snowy.

“
Amazing.” I said and the face in the mirror moved her mouth. I touched my cheek, then my mouth, then my eyelashes that were soft instead of stiff like Snowy’s mascara always made hers. “How did you do it?”

“
You thought all I knew how to do was save lives?” She smiled at me in the mirror then said quietly, “I’m glad you like it.”

“
It’s different isn’t it?” The face looking back at me was almost charming, even screwed up as much as I could make it.

“
It’s not for everyday, it’s for something special, like Homecoming. I hope you got a dress in Mr. Slider’s shop.” My mother said running her hands over my hair.

“
Mr. Slider?” I turned my head from side to side, unsure what to do with this version of me.

“
Yes, you know the shop that you actually liked. Mr. Slider’s an old friend of the family,” my mother said brushing my hair with a beautiful silver hairbrush.

“
How old?” He had seemed ageless. Kind of like my dad. Was he a cool one? Probably not if he lived in the middle of the city.

My mother laughed. “I don’t remember him ever being anything besides old, sweetie.”

“
I didn’t get a dress. Nobody’s asked me to go to the dance.” I frowned, and the girl in the mirror looked dangerous and beautiful, not sulky at all. It was irritating. I could probably get a date if I went to school looking like this. Guys would probably fall all over themselves to get to me. Was that what I wanted, massive assault by completely superficial teenage boys? Hmmm, probably not.

“
I thought you were going to perform there.”

I frowned and the girl looked adorably bewildered. I had to take this makeup off before it went to my head. “Right. Snowy’s brilliant idea.” Would it be safe for me to go to homecoming? I saw an image in my head, just a flash of this beautiful girl in Lewis’ arms, an empty dance floor waiting, but then, the image changed and my teeth were somewhere buried in his skin. No. That would probably not go well.

“
Mother?” It had to be said. She looked up at me. “Would you please not mention the Nether with Lewis tomorrow? He knows I’m a fury, but he doesn’t know that I eat raw meat and like death. It’s something I prefer we keep in the family. Do you mind?”

“
Of course not.” She nodded like that was a taken. I felt relieved. I didn’t want him to see that monster.

When I walked to my room I saw the stack of packages overflowing my bed. Suddenly I smiled. Shopping could be really great. I ripped the paper off my painting and went into the garage to find a hammer and some nails.

“
What are you looking for darlin’?” I jumped before I recognized the hulking figure. I put my hand on my chest to slow down my heart rate.

“
I’m just hanging up a picture,” I said, rummaging around. He grabbed a box of nails and a hammer and gave me a grin.

“
It just so happens that I’m fond of pounding walls. Why don’t you let me assist you?” I smiled and let him come with me to my room. He whistled when he saw the painting. “You have unique taste in art Dari. Do you know who painted that?”

I shrugged. “The guy said it was an Axel. Is it really magic?”

He snorted. “Naw, just blood work.”

“
What is blood work?” I felt uncomfortable saying the words.

He scratched his neck and checked the wall for a stud. “Well… your brother was murdered by a blood worker. Hot blood people sometimes go in for cutting and draining. It’s like Wilds who get tattoos or do runework.”

I felt a knot in my stomach. I remembered where I’d heard the term before. “Like you?” I asked keeping my distance from him.

He nodded cheerfully. “Sure. I got tattoos so I’m stronger, bigger, faster than before, and blood workers drain to get skills like fire working, ground breaking, used to be soul stealing but that’s about gone, and of course, leaning. They can take the abilities of the people they bleed if they’re skillful enough. If they are not careful they end up bleeding themselves, or making a nick in the wrong place and there you go: an infinity of agony however long they’re stuck not dead.”

I stared at him and swallowed as he swung the painting up on the nail. “So why do I like this painting with someone’s blood in it?” The idea of that should have made it much less compelling, but the colors, the emotion sucked me in all over again.

“
That’s an Axel. The man must have been crazy to create such a thing. It’s a good painting. It’s one of the few that hasn’t had any really bad aftereffects reported; it wouldn’t be hung in public otherwise. I’ve always been fond of Axels personally but never got around to owning one. It’ll be interesting to see what it does up close and personal.”

“
Bad aftereffects?” I asked but he shrugged and propped his hammer on his shoulder.

“
There are two sides to everything Dari, even blood work. Get to sleep now. Tomorrow is going to be one fun day.” He grinned at me and shut the door behind him.

12 Soul Mate?