Blood and Guitars

by Heather Jensen

  He stuck out his stomach, bending his back to make it look bigger than it was, and patted it with his hand, smiling. “It was bound to happen.”

  “I could always toss you in the pool here so you could swim a few laps and maybe work that gut off.”

  O’Shea gave the pool an appraising look. “It is tempting. It’s kind of hot out here.”

  I moved closer and acted like I was going to push him in. He grabbed me, steadying himself and pulling so that we stumbled backwards. He stepped on my foot and I fell flat on my back on the grass, laughing.

  “You boys ready to get back to work?” Ken called from the door of the studio.

  “Coming!” I tried to sound convincing. O’Shea offered me a hand and pulled me halfway up before he dropped me on my butt. I grabbed his foot as fast as I could and twisted so that he tumbled to the ground next to me with a thud.

  “Ugh.” He let his head fall backward on the grass.

  “You’re such a spaz.” I snickered as I got to my feet and headed back toward the studio, leaving O’Shea on the ground.

  “You started it,” he called after me as I walked inside. I laughed but waited for him to catch up, holding the door.

  It was dark when I left Ken’s place that night. After nearly twelve hours in the studio (with only a twenty minute power nap on the leather couch) I was pretty exhausted, but for some reason I couldn’t bring myself to drive straight home. I knew I shouldn’t be out too late since we were recording tomorrow, but I drove toward Cleveland and found myself passing The Waking Moon. I let off the gas when I saw the faint glow of a light inside and pulled into the nearest parking spot.

  Chapter 14

  I was still working on the same painting when I sensed Mark outside the building. A moment later he stepped inside and said, “Care for some company?”

  “Come on up.” I called down from the loft as I squeezed a little more brown paint onto my palette.

  Mark climbed the stairs in a quick rush of air and was by my side half a second later. He leaned against the table and removed his glasses to wipe them gingerly on the bottom of his grey button-up shirt. He leaned forward and gazed at my painting with an appraising eye. “Interesting,” he said in a cheerful voice. “What inspired this piece?”

  “The buffet,” I answered with a convincing smile as I picked up a different brush.

  He gave me an approving nod and popped his knuckles for a second before asking, “Where do you think the lunar eclipse ritual will be held?”

  “Somewhere expensive,” I answered.

  “That goes without say.” He sighed. “Aren’t you even a little bit curious?”

  “Why are you so excited about this anyway?”

  “Aren’t you?”

  I shrugged. Somehow I doubted seeing Synod again would be a life-altering experience for me.

  “The guys are practically ancient,” Mark continued enthusiastically. “Not to mention the fact that they’re in charge.”

  “All the more reason to see as little of them as possible,” I teased. Mark rolled his eyes at me and I smiled.

  “We only do this once a year,” Mark added. “It’s a break from the mundane, at least. Don’t you think?”

  “You’re right,” I finally agreed. “Now can we forget about the Synod for the rest of the night? All this talk about their eternal control and authority is killing my creativity.”

  “Whatever you say.” Mark smiled at me. In a blur of movement he was at my iPod dock, fiddling with my music selection.

  I took a deep breath and stepped back to appraise my painting, or what was done of it. In the back of my mind I was vaguely aware of a human outside of the shop, who I assumed was just passing by until I heard a knock on the front door downstairs. Mark, who must have sensed the same thing, whirred around to face me at the sound.

  “Were you expecting someone?” he asked curiously.

  I shook my head and put my paintbrush down, leaving Mark in the loft as I went to the stairway to peek at the front of the shop. It happened almost simultaneously. I sensed him just as I peeked over the partial wall and saw him peering in through the glass of the front door.

  It was Trey.

  He saw me and waved. I couldn’t help the smile that stretched across my face at the sight of him. It was ridiculous, really. I gestured to the side of the building and then toward the back of the shop. He nodded and then disappeared around the corner.

  “What are you doing?” Mark asked from over my shoulder.

  “Nothing,” I said innocently. Then, I glanced behind me at the tell-all painting I had been working on and was tempted to cover it. Realizing there wasn’t time, I reminded myself that it was on a different level than the rest of the shop and would remain out of sight.

  “You know him.” Mark didn’t phrase it as a question.

  Ignoring his observation, I rushed down the steps and was standing at the back door a half second later, pulling it open as Trey reached out for the handle.

  “Hey,” I greeted him.

  “Aurora.” Trey smiled, looking a little relieved. I’d forgotten how adorable that half-smile of his was. “I’m glad I caught you here.”

  “Me too.” And I was. Okay, so maybe Trey stopping by when Mark wasn’t around would have been better but I knew that Mark wasn’t about to go away now that I’d made the night interesting for him. “Come on in.” I pulled the door open all the way, stepping back to let Trey inside. He was wearing a t-shirt and expensive jeans with a pair of black vans. He looked great. Again.

  “I was just driving by and I saw a light on so I thought I’d stop and see if you were in.”

  “Kacie said you were here earlier.” I wasn’t sure whether I should bring up the fact that he’d bought a painting or not. “I’m surprised you found me.”

  “I recognized your style from the pieces on display in the front window. You didn’t tell me you had your own place on Cleveland.”

  I shrugged with one shoulder. There were a lot of things I hadn’t told Trey about, the least of which was The Waking Moon.

  Chapter 15

  Aurora gestured for me to follow her and I walked behind, watching as she practically floated around the corner smoothly. I wasn’t even aware of her shoes making a noise against the hard floors. Maybe I was starting to hallucinate. How long had I been at the studio? If my brain was already starting to fry this early into the recording process, we were in trouble. Aurora paused in the center of the gallery and turned to face me again. For reasons I can’t explain, I suddenly felt vulnerable standing there with her in the shadows of the gallery as a single light from an unseen source glowed from above. My heartbeat quickened under her unfaltering gaze and I cleared my throat. She turned and walked over to the wall where she flipped a light switch, illuminating the showroom.

  “I … I hope I’m not interrupting something,” I said. Aurora opened her mouth to speak but the voice I heard came from behind and belonged to a man.

  “Aurora, aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?”

  I spun around to find a man peering over the edge of a partial wall at the top of the stairway. He was resting on his elbows and studying me through a pair of black rimmed glasses. He reminded me of a record label executive scrutinizing me and trying to decide whether I was worth paying any attention to. Aurora sighed but her lips curved into a soft smile. She put her hands in her back pockets and shifted her weight to one foot.

  “Trey …?” Her voice lingered in a question.

  “Decker,” I added, mentally kicking myself for not having given her my full name before. Or had she just forgotten?

  She smiled and glanced up. “Trey Decker this is Mark Conry.”

  “Dr. Mark Conry,” the man corrected. I didn’t miss the eye roll Aurora shot his way at the inclusion of his title.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” I said coolly, but in the back of my mind I was sizing the Doctor up.

  Who was he?

  A friend? A relative?
A boyfriend?

  I pushed that last thought out of my mind, unwilling to accept it as a possibility just yet. I needed to do a little investigating before I decided to panic.

  Aurora’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts. “You just couldn’t live without Pier 60, is that it?”

  She was testing me; that much was obvious. She wanted to know whether I had actually liked the painting or if I had purchased it to win her favor. The problem was both were true.

  “Yeah.” I wracked my brain for the right words to make her understand.

  “So you’re the lucky new owner of the Pier.” Mark was only a few feet away now. I hadn’t even noticed him approaching. I tried not to appear as threatened by his sudden appearance at my side as I felt. “I saw that it wasn’t hanging on the wall when I came in tonight.”

  I ran my fingers through my hair and smiled, turning my attention to Mark. “I’m a bit biased,” I admitted. “I spent a lot of weekends on that pier growing up. The only thing cooler than being on Pier 60 at night is the ethereal twist Aurora put on it.” I stuck my hands in the front pockets of my jeans and shrugged. “I just had to have it.”

  “I’m glad you liked it so much,” she added. Then I thought I saw her raise an eyebrow in Mark’s direction, but I couldn’t be certain. I wondered again what their relationship was, but I still wasn’t sure how to find out. She hadn’t introduced him as her boyfriend, or fiancé, or anything like that. Maybe they were just friends after all.

  “Is this where the magic happens?” I asked her.

  She nodded and gestured upstairs with a casual wave of her hand. “It’s a bit of a mess right now, but I do my work up there.”

  “I’ve never attempted anything more complicated than finger paint,” I admitted. “But I’d love to try sometime.”

  I was vaguely aware of Mark scoffing at my side as Aurora’s gaze met mine. The sensation was strange and wonderful, like she was seeing right through me. Then came the déjà vu. The trance was broken only when Aurora looked away to stare after Mark who was making his way back up the stairs. She bit her lip and smiled before turning back to me. “I’ll show you sometime,” she said.

  “I … uh, really?” I said brilliantly. “I mean, that would be great.”

  Mark’s footsteps paused only briefly before he hurried up the stairs and out of sight.

  “How about tomorrow night?” Aurora asked, taking a step closer to me. At that point, her intense green eyes were all I could see. I swallowed, hoping that when I tried to speak actual words would come out.

  “Tomorrow works for me. Same time?” She nodded. That was my cue to get out before I could make an idiot of myself. “Cool. I guess I’ll see you then.”

  “I’ll leave the back unlocked for you.”

  I smiled and nodded at her before turning to leave.

  “Trey,” Aurora called out behind me. I paused and turned to face her again. “Don’t wear anything you don’t want ruined.”

  Chapter 16

  Mark scoffed as I picked up my paintbrush and palette and set to work on my painting again.

  “That was quite the display. You’re not seriously having him over tomorrow night, are you?”

  “What if I am?”

  “He’s human,” Mark stated.

  “Thanks for pointing that out. I hadn’t noticed.”

  “Okay, okay. You’ve made your point.”

  “Really? What’s that?”

  “You can do whatever you want and it’s really none of my business. There’s no need for games. I get it.”

  “You’re right about one thing. It isn’t any of your business. But who says I’m playing a game?”

  “I know you, Aurora,” Mark added. “There’s nothing that human could possibly have to offer you except a meal.”

  “Is that so?” I glanced over my shoulder at him. He was leaning against the wall with his arms folded. I’d never seen him look so arrogant.

  “And speaking of a meal, why didn’t you just feed from him tonight and get it over with like you should have the night you met him? At least then the boy would have the common sense to stay away from you.”

  I dropped my brush, shocked by Mark’s insight. For the first time I realized exactly why I hadn’t been able to feed from Trey that first night we’d met. Humans develop a natural aversion to vampires who have fed from them, and I hadn’t wanted to give Trey a reason to avoid me. This revelation was as upsetting as it was true, and I whirled around in a fury.

  “You have no right to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do.” I hissed, baring my fangs. In his surprise, Mark’s eyes flashed dangerously but he didn’t speak. “And while we’re at it, I’d take a good look at why you’re so jealous of a human in the first place.” I was only just seeing that Mark’s possessive attitude toward me might actually damage our relationship after all. How was I ever going to meet someone to share my eternal night with if he was always trying to weed them out from the sidelines?

  I backed away just enough to give him room to leave. Mark continued to stare at me a second longer and then dropped his eyes. He was no match for me and he knew it. Dredging up what was left of his common sense he disappeared down the stairs and was out the back door half a second later.

  I sighed and collapsed onto the chair nearby, wondering how one evening could be so emotionally charged on both ends of the spectrum. My cell phone rang from inside my purse on the table, just as phones always do when you need a minute to think. I reluctantly stood up and fished it out, glancing at the display. It was Antonio. I took a deep breath and answered.

  “Is everything okay?” he asked.

  I rubbed my temple with my free hand, a habit from my mortal days, and sighed. “Just peachy. Why do you ask?”

  “Is Mark with you? I just got a strange sense about you both right at the same time.”

  “He was,” I replied. “I just kicked him out.”

  “Is there anything you want to tell me?” Antonio asked.

  “Mark is a jerk,” I said childishly.

  I could practically hear Antonio smile in relief through the phone. “What did he do?”

  “Nothing,” I muttered. I definitely didn’t want to discuss my guy problems with Antonio, especially considering that one of the said guys involved just so happened to be of the human sort.

  “I’m sure you’ll work it out.” Antonio was ever the encouraging mentor.

  “Yeah, whatever.” I was suddenly anxious for a change in topic. “Don’t worry about it. Do you know anything about where we’ll be meeting with the Synod?” Then I bit my lip, because even this subject reminded me of Mark which just made me angrier.

  “Not yet,” Antonio said. “I’ll pass that on to you as soon as they let me know.” I shrugged, not in the mood to actually care just then. “And don’t be too hard on Mark,” he added. “He cares about you. I’m sure he’s acting with the best intentions.”

  “Funny,” I said. “He says the same about you.”

  Antonio chuckled and I couldn’t help but smile as I closed my phone. I knew Mark cared about me, but our friendship only worked if I could still have my independence. I’d seen him cross that line tonight and that was something I wasn’t okay with. Sure, hanging out with a human isn’t the best idea, but I wasn’t ready to let Trey go just yet. There was still the possibility that he wouldn’t even show and the whole thing would blow over, although I couldn’t deny that a small piece of me was hoping he’d come.

  I turned my iPod on again and picked up my paintbrush. The only thing missing in my painting of the music lounge was the entertainment. I set to work brushing in Trey, my photographic memory bringing to mind a perfect recollection of his likeness on the stage that night.

  When I finished the painting, I went to the small refrigerator in kitchenette in the back of the loft and pulled out a bottle of blood-laced wine. I opened it and took a drink straight from the bottle as I sat down on the chair, staring at the painting before me. I obviously couldn
’t put this piece up for sale in the gallery, not that I wanted to. It would have to go home with me.

  I had listened with a judgmental ear to Trey’s reasons for buying Pier 60, and yet here I was actually painting him. Ironic. Or perhaps hypocritical is a better word. The blood in the wine went straight to my head and soon the burning chased away any lingering resentment toward Mark. He really was just trying to protect me. Yes, Mark was being incredibly jealous and immature but thankfully he had years and years ahead of him to try and master that. The poor guy probably just needed a girlfriend. I made a mental note to work on that and took another swig from the wine bottle.

  I gazed at the picture of the moon etched into the glass. Below it were the words Vidic Vineyard. The mastermind and owner of Vidic Vineyard is none other than Stanislav Vidic. Not only is Stanislav a member of the Synod, he’s one of the oldest living vampires in the country. There are some who are older, but most of them choose to remain in Europe where they’ve lived their entire elongated lives. Stanislav, on the other hand, was one of the first to venture to the Florida area before it was declared a state. He established Vidic Vineyard and now runs the biggest wine-laced-with-blood organization in the country. I took another drink and relished in the combination of tastes on my tongue. I had to hand it to the old guy, he definitely knew his wine … er, blood.

  Chapter 17

  The next day O’Shea and I spent a few hours recording feedback for “Sweet Disguise.” Okay, so I didn’t do much other than sit there and joke around with him while he did the work. O’Shea always has been a better guitar player than I am. Don’t get me wrong, I know my way around the instrument pretty well, but something about O’Shea’s brain is just wired exactly right for playing guitar. I’d put him up against pretty much anybody. To be honest, it was probably a good day for me to not be responsible for much as far as recording goes. I was a little preoccupied anticipating my painting lesson with Aurora. Just as we were wrapping up for the night, Serena brought out a big platter of home made sandwiches. It took me about twenty minutes to scarf a few of them down and then I jumped in my vehicle and headed for Cleveland Street. I found myself hoping that Dr. Mark wouldn’t be there as I reached The Waking Moon.