Blood Song

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Blood Song Page 5

by Lynda Hilburn


  ***

  Ethan thought about the lame excuse he’d given Nelson for wanting to go off alone. He’d claimed he was depressed, which happened to him pretty regularly, and didn’t want to talk to anyone for a while. There was enough truth to it in general that Nelson bought it.

  On his walk downtown Ethan practiced saying her name aloud, “Grace, Grace, Grace...” The sound enchanted him. He got so caught up in his verbal trance that he almost missed all the startled reactions of the humans he passed on the busy pedestrian mall.

  They’re going to call the men with the white coats and butterfly nets if I don’t try to blend in better.

  The full moon illuminated the night like a lighthouse beacon. He stared up at the sky, remembering the tales of madness inspired by the lunar glow. Humans supposedly lost their minds under the influence of the frenzied light. He suspected vampires were to blame.

  When he arrived at Grace’s studio, he slipped around behind the building and leaned against the brick wall. Suddenly his knees buckled as the realization hit him. Had he just walked along a street filled with his favorite food source without attacking anyone? The thought stunned him, and then he laughed as he noticed he’d actually clutched his chest in the familiar, mortal heart attack gesture. It had been a long time since he’d done anything like that. Something almost frighteningly freaky was happening. He hadn’t felt this odd since becoming a vampire decades before. Almost human.

  Beautiful chanting caught his attention.

  Inching toward the music studio window, he peeked in, expecting to see a roomful of mortals, but the large space was empty. Where was the music coming from? He took a step back and focused on listening to the sweet sounds still flowing from somewhere nearby. Lowering his gaze, he tracked along the foundation of the building until he came to an open window in the ground level, then stepped closer and squatted to investigate.

  The basement of the structure had been transformed into a sound chamber. Instead of muting the voices, the acoustics of the room exaggerated the depth of the tones, causing the frequencies to reverberate in breathtaking ways.

  The chanting vibrated every cell of his body. Or whatever made up his body these days. His eyes stung from the sound, as if he fought back tears. Crying was supposed to be impossible for his kind.

  He stared through the window. The chamber appeared larger than he’d expected. At least fifty people sat in concentric circles on the marble floor. Grace knelt in the center, next to a sobbing woman who lay on a body-size pad, clutching her stomach. Ethan’s keen vampire nose told him the woman was sick. Not far from death. Why had she come to Grace’s gathering on her deathbed? Maybe she wanted to experience the same odd peaceful feeling he’d noticed at Grace’s bedside. He knew from personal experience how horrible it was to die a painful death.

  The chanting became so loud and powerful, his consciousness started to slip away. He didn’t know what would have happened if he hadn’t suddenly been overwhelmed by the scent of blood—so many humans in one place—which immediately thrust him deep into his vampire nature. He growled and slowly rose to his full height, just in time to be surprised by a pair of mortals turning the corner, heading toward him. His mind churned as he obsessed on the aroma of the blood pulsing through the hapless mortals’ veins. His fangs descended and he crouched, ready to spring.

  “Hi! Are you here for the sound circle? We’re late, too. Why don’t you come on in with us?” The female of the couple moved to the door of the underground area and stood, waiting, a smile on her friendly face. Her companion waved.

  As if he hadn’t regressed into a snarling, bloodthirsty beast, he forced himself to straighten, then snapped his shoulders back and raised his chin. “Yeah, okay.” He clenched his fists at his sides.

  Yeah, Okay? What the hell? Nobody ever told me vampires could have psychotic breaks. Maybe all the drugs I did in the ’60s finally caught up with me. Did I just choose not to attack them because they were nice to me? Am I insane? Since when does my brain work when I’m near mortals?

  He edged over to the door and held it open while the two humans entered and descended the staircase, then he followed, already enraptured by the engulfing sound.

  Can’t these people sense me? Don’t they realize a predator is behind them? What’s happened to human instincts?

  They entered the chant-filled sound chamber and quietly found places to sit in the outermost circle. Keeping a distance between himself and the others seated nearby, he scanned the room. It was incredible. Whatever Grace had done to the walls made the area seem as if they’d stepped inside an amethyst quartz crystal. The circle area consisted of gentle risers, so that people in each ring sat slightly elevated over the row before. Scented candles burned atop tall, ornate holders, creating soft light and shadows. His vampire vision, especially attuned to the darkness, allowed him to see the blissful expressions on the faces of the participants. The sounds washed over and through him. Fifty voices chanted unfamiliar words, creating extraordinary harmonies. The vibration lapped against his ears like the soothing waves of a vast sea. He imagined himself back in the womb.

  His gaze finally locked on the only person who mattered, and he studied her as she sang, her face ecstatic. Grace’s long, blonde hair flowed down the front of her body, hiding all but the sleeves of her shiny, white shirt. With his sensitive hearing, he was able to eliminate all the other voices and tune into hers. It was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. Her timbre caressed him like summer rain. His heart sputtered, then beat wildly, which startled him. He’d previously had no occasion to allow his cold, dead heart to mimic life.

  He closed his eyes, lost in the pleasure of her vocalizations, and began chanting himself. Or, more accurately, the chant took control. The sound simply happened. He’d heard about the concept of channeling, but he had always thought it was a scam. He’d never have guessed what an amazing sensation it was to simply allow sound to flow from his body without any conscious direction. He hadn’t sung in so many years, he was surprised by the power of his own tenor voice.

  Suddenly, everyone in the room went silent. Everyone except Grace, that is. He’d stopped singing, too, without even being aware of it. Had there been some imperceptible signal? Her glorious voice soared through the rarified space as she leaned forward, bringing her face near the woman on the floor, whose hands had relaxed at her sides. The sound was eerie and unearthly. Goosebumps rose on his arms, something else that shouldn’t have been able to happen.

  After a few seconds, Grace stopped singing and eased back from the woman. Like releasing a taut rubber band, the formerly limp recipient sprang to her feet, thrust her arms into the air, threw her head back and laughed. “She did it! Grace did it! I’m pain-free for the first time since my cancer was diagnosed. Thank you, Grace! Thank you!”

  Grace stood, opened her arms, and the woman collapsed against her, sobbing.

  Ethan sniffed in the woman’s direction, expecting to recognize the familiar scent of impending death again and instead sensed... life. Shocked, he focused his full attention on the woman, reading her body with his expanded perception, and was forced to acknowledge that he’d either been wrong when he declared her near death, or... no. Impossible. Chanting couldn’t have altered the woman’s physical body. Grace couldn’t possibly do anything so astounding. Things like that simply didn’t happen.

  Then he frowned. Even if Grace had been able to do the impossible, the healing wasn’t the most bizarre thing in the room. Erasing cancer with sound was nothing compared to rising from the dead and drinking human blood to survive. Would all these people who took Grace’s miracle for granted be as open-minded about him? Yeah. He wouldn’t hold his breath—so to speak.

  Still hugging and patting the woman, Grace addressed her audience. “Thank you all for coming tonight and for lending your voices and your positive intentions to Mary’s healing. We’ve shared something magical and special. It has been a wonderful session. I look forward to seeing you next time
.” At her words, everyone stood quietly and began filing toward the door. They appeared to be in a light trance.

  Grace hugged Mary again, and released her to her waiting friends. Ethan remained seated as the room emptied. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but he felt driven to... what? He had no idea. His heart still pounded unnaturally.

  He rose and moved quietly, with only human speed so as not to frighten her, to the center of the circle where Grace had bent to retrieve the pad from the floor. As she straightened and saw him standing in front of her, she gasped.

  “You’re the angel in my dream,” Grace said. She backed away, dropped the pad, and pressed her palms to her face. “I must be in an altered state. You’re a figment of my imagination. Another bizarre element in an already screwed-up day. This vision will pass any minute now. I’ll keep on talking to myself until you vanish.”

  “I’m sorry to startle you,” Ethan said softly. “And to disappoint you. I’m afraid I’m no angel.” Not even close. Another dimension altogether. His gaze locked on her brown eyes and he had to force himself not to entrance her. For some reason it seemed important that she speak to him of her own accord. He struggled to control the urge to touch her. It was clear his presence confused and frightened her. Her fear rode the air.

  Grace dropped her hands and stared at him. She reached out a finger and poked his chest. “You’re real.” Obviously rattled, she retreated another step, blinked a couple of times, and shook her head. “I’m so sorry. You must think I’m incredibly rude and very strange. I’m not myself immediately after a sound healing session. My brain waves don’t return to normal right away. For a moment, you reminded me of... someone I’ve seen before. The resemblance is uncanny.” She stopped talking and stared again for a few seconds. Anxiety shadowed her features. “Have we met before? Was this your first sound circle? You really do seem very familiar.”

  He heard Grace’s heart speed up even more, so he sent a light relaxation command. After a few seconds, she inhaled a deep breath and released it. Her rhythm slowed. How could he possibly seem familiar to her? He’d erased himself from her mind.

  Deciding it might be wise to change the subject temporarily so as not to make her any more uncomfortable, he said, “I wanted to tell you how moved I was by your session. I’ve never seen anyone heal with sound before. I’m impressed.” He added another subtle, mental nudge, suggesting she would feel at ease with him. Trust him. He wasn’t trying to manipulate her, only to allow a bond to form. He might tell her the truth eventually, but not yet.

  “Thank you.” She gave a gentle nod and visibly calmed. “I sometimes forget how unusual sound healing is to the rest of the world. I’m so used to doing it that it seems very normal to me.” She offered her hand. “I’m Grace Blackburn.” Then she cocked her head, inviting him to introduce himself.

  Ethan grasped her hand. “Ethan...” He paused, unaccustomed to using his last name. In the vampire world nobody used surnames. “Ethan James.” He hoped his skin was still sufficiently warm from his last meal the night before so she wouldn’t notice the coolness of his grip. Sometimes the “buzz,” as the bloodsuckers called it, lasted a day or more. She gave no indication of discomfort. Why don’t I feel the blood lust? I’m definitely in a parallel universe. “Do you have a few minutes to talk? I’d really like to hear more about your healing techniques.”

  A beautiful smile spread her lips. “I’d love to talk to you... uh, about the sound healing. It isn’t often I meet such a handsome man.” She paused, her eyes wide. “Geez. Did I say that out loud? I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me tonight. I don’t usually connect with new people so easily. Especially men...”

  Ethan laughed, feeling suddenly elated. “I’m happy to be the exception.” What am I doing, laughing like an idiot? She’ll be disgusted and repelled as soon as she finds out what I am. What the hell is happening to me?

  Grace nodded toward a small couch against the wall. “Why don’t we sit and make ourselves comfortable?”

  Ethan grinned. His idea of being comfortable with a beautiful woman used to involve a lot less clothing. Having a clear visual memory of Grace’s nude body wasn’t helping the situation. But sitting together was a good start. Though it wasn’t likely he’d be taking her home to his cardboard box, who knew what might happen? It had been ages since he’d been so attracted to anyone. Apparently, he still had a weakness for the occasional blonde. He bowed. “Excellent idea. After you.”

  “What you did tonight was extraordinary,” Ethan went on after they sat. “How can you be sure the woman’s illness is gone? Can you sense it?” He stared at her face, noticing the curve of her lips, the blush of her cheeks, every individual eyelash. He could swear her nipples were hard. She’s even more beautiful than I remembered.

  “Hmmm. Gorgeous and smart.” She rolled her eyes and grinned. “Yikes. Once again, sorry. My mouth seems to have a mind of its own around you. I’ll go ahead and apologize in advance for anything else I might blurt out. But to answer your question, yes. I can sense it. Sort of. Okay, this is going to sound weird, but it’s as if I can feel the obstructions—or misalignments—in the body or the psyche as the sound flows around and interacts with them. Then, I imagine the disruption smoothed out by the vibrations and it seems to happen.” She paused. “Now you probably think I’m a complete weirdo! A freak. Not a normal person, right? You wouldn’t be the first.”

  He frowned. She doesn’t think she’s normal? Wait ’til she gets a load of me. “I think you’re incredible. I wish I had your skills. I used to sing and play music years ago, but I never explored the healing aspects. Your talent fascinates me.” He sensed a change in her mood. What’s up? She’s gone all anxious again.

  “I’ve worked hard to build up my skills.” Twisting her hands in her lap, she shrugged. “I think anyone can heal with sound. It’s natural. You can do it, too.” She blinked a few times and stared at him, tilting her head. “I don’t remember if you ever answered my question about whether or not we’ve met before. I swear I know your face. In fact, I’m sure I dreamed about it. Your green eyes–”

  This was it. He’d run out of time to avoid the inevitable. He sighed, bracing for her horrified reaction. “What did you dream?”

  “There you are, Grace.” A tall, Eastern Indian man wearing a white turban hurried over to the couch and nodded to each of them, before refocusing on her. “Ready to go? We’ll be late for the recording session. Come on, I’m double-parked outside.”

  Grace shifted her gaze back and forth between Ethan and the new arrival. “Oh, yes, Nadu. I’m coming. Go ahead. I’ll be right there.”

  The man bowed and left the room.

  “Actually, I did forget about the recording.” Grace gave a half-smile. “I guess it was the company.” She stood and moved across the room. “I would like to tell you about my dream, if you’re really interested. Maybe we could...”

  “Get together another time?” He rose and followed her to the exit. “Absolutely. I’ll drop by again soon.” I don’t want to talk about the dream, but maybe I can find a way to distract you.

  Their gazes locked for a few seconds. He wondered again how her lips would taste.

  “I look forward to it.”

 

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