Hotblood

by Juliann Whicker

  We drove into a nice area in the hills above downtown. I didn’t like how well groomed the people and houses looked. Ethel had brushed my hair that morning but I didn’t have one of those styles that take a half hour to blow dry. Snowy would have fit in great. Satan in his monster car and I in my attic clothes did not.

  The houses got larger and further from the road until we stopped in front of what looked like a park surrounded by a wrought iron fence. The gate slid open as Satan pulled into the drive and I got a glimpse of a guy in a dark suit and sunglasses sitting in a guardhouse. It felt like money. The feel of money saturated every centimeter of creamy stone drive that curved around the sprawling grounds filled with box hedge and trimmed lawns up to the five-story Gothic Italianate mansion. Satan followed the curving drive to the front door where he shifted out of gear and let the car choke and cough to a stop.

  “I’ll wait here,” I said before he opened his mouth.

  “You sure? You might get bored. Here,” he turned the key towards him and fumbled with a knob until squeaky music came out of the poor wreck’s speakers. “Muzak to soothe the beasts.”

  He shoved open his door which screeched its protest and lumbered up the stone steps throwing open the massive double doors with one hand. “Hello!” I heard him yell. I focused on the radio and fiddled with the knobs until I got it to play a song so loud I couldn’t hear my own thoughts. I pulled out my knitting and worked so I wouldn’t gawk at the mansion. During the summer I’d thought that my mother’s house was a bit pretentious, so fancy compared to everything else in Sanders, minus the high school of course, but if my mother was used to this kind of thing it made our own house humble in comparison.

  “Hi there,” someone said. I ignored him and focused on my knitting with an attention that should have made my stitches much more even than they were. “Hey!” he yelled loud enough I couldn’t pretend not to hear unless I was willing to play deaf. I looked up and met a pair of dark blue eyes in a pale face, a fringe of black hair across his forehead in a rakish way. For a breathless moment I was certain Devlin had stepped back from the grave until he gave me a sultry grin and pushed his hair out of his face with a practiced movement that was aimed to disarm all females. I noticed other differences then, the shape of his eyes, the way his nose was a little too thin, and that his forehead was a little long, which must be why he wore his hair like that. I shoved the anger down while I glared at him. He couldn’t help looking like Devlin. Probably everyone who lived here looked like Devlin, if the uncles were any indication. There wasn’t much variation to the House of Slide.

  I twisted the knob carefully and could hear his breathing and heart pumping in the silence. “Can I help you?” I kept the words polite but icy.

  He looked puzzled then gave me another smile that Snowy would have called devastating. I wasn’t Snowy. “We’re trying to pull in but you’re blocking the drive. You must be from out of town.” He gave the car a once over before he looked me up and down. “You can’t be comfortable waiting in here like this. Why don’t you go inside? Don’t worry, I’ll make sure everything’s taken care of.”

  I stared at him wondering where this guy got off thinking he could take care of everything where I was concerned. “Thank you. Really that’s sweet of you to think of me, but this car isn’t going anywhere until the driver returns. I don’t drive.”

  “Well, ma’am, I do. If you don’t mind,” he said as he opened the door and slid in beside me. I minded enormously as he fiddled with the key, producing various strangled coughs when he turned it. “Something’s wrong with the car. Maybe the battery is dead.” He searched the panel for a knob or a lever for the hood then looked at me, his debonair facade somewhat marred by his helplessly pleading tone. “I have a guest in the car behind us. This isn’t making the best impression on him.”

  I looked at him and couldn’t help feel pity. His plans weren’t working out and I could sympathize with that. “Okay. Slip it into neutral and we can push it.”

  He smiled at me, a sultry smile that made me regret my impulsive generosity. After some crunching of gears he had it in neutral. I opened my door and began shoving it while he strained on his side. I let the heat rush through me, the frustration I’d worked so hard to compress working to strengthen my arms as we moved the massive pile of metal away from the front door. He was panting when we finally got it into a parking place and he shoved the gears into park. “Thanks. I owe you,” he said shoving a hand through his hair, but this time unaware of himself. He was much nicer that way. A car parked beside Satan’s with a silken purr of its motor. I felt half embarrassed and half protective of Satan’s spectacle compared to the Mercedes. A few guys got out, each one more handsome than the last, but none wearing Devlin’s genetics, something I was very grateful for.

  “Hello there,” a blonde guy with chin length hair said in a drawl that sounded fake. He smoothed his goatee while he gave me a look that made me want to smear his pretty face on the drive.

  “So this is the House of Slide,” a different voice said, a voice that could have been a young Satan, rough but with a drawl to it that sounded natural. He didn’t look at me; instead his attention was on the massive stucco and wrought iron structure. “It’s smaller than I expected.” I gave him another look, the brown hair intentionally messy, his clothes hanging on his skinny frame in a way that said, “I’m way too cool to look bad no matter how hard I try.”

  “So,” he said, looking at me with a cool gaze that showed me what he thought of anyone who didn’t drive around in a fancy car and wear clothes from some boutique somewhere. It was a relief that instead of hating him I felt a wave of amusement. “Are we going to stand here all day?”

  “No. Sorry, Nick,” the sweating boy said sweating harder under Nick’s freezing gaze. “Right this way. I’m sorry about the delay. You never know what incompetents we have to deal with,” he shot me an apologetic look as he said that, and I smiled back at him blandly.

  “Yep, you never know.” The voice came from the side and I turned my head to take in Satan’s massive frame, his slouchy hat covering his tattoos, and his cigar hanging unlit from his mouth.

  The boys all froze, various expressions of horror on their face as they stared at my uncle.

  “No one’s allowed to park in front of the door,” I informed him. “I had to push it over here, and now I’m really hungry, particularly with all this fresh meat standing around.” When the words were out of my mouth, I closed my eyes and wished desperately I could pull them back in. Satan’s rough chuckle got my attention. He walked over to the guys and slapped someone on the back hard enough he stumbled towards the house. They all laughed, forced laughs to humor my uncle Satan, and probably me now, as they left. It was infuriating that after I’d worked so hard to stay calm and not react when that idiot had tried to start the car and make eyes at me, only to go and sound like a barbaric Nether at the end. I’d been doing so well until Satan came. I could still hear their hearts rattling in their chests as they hurried to the house. I could smell their flesh, their blood. I swallowed and turned towards Satan leaning my face against him, glad for his smell, the cigars and gunpowder that blocked out the scent of the others. He stood still until the guys were gone. I stood up straight and glared at Satan before I climbed in the car and slammed the door behind me.

  He took his time getting in. “Well, that was fun.”

  “Yeah, so fun.” I focused on my needles and managed to wreck everything I’d knitted on the trip in the next two minutes while Satan sat beside me smoking his cigar.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  I thought about it. He was crazy if he thought I wanted to talk about any of what had just happened ever again. He knew I was a Hotblood and I’d broken his arm. He shouldn’t have to ask about my violent tendencies. Of course I’d talked about them like they were meat. They weren’t people. Animals thought about meat like that and I was apparently animal. No, I was hungry, that’s all, with a headache that
was getting worse all the time. I took a deep breath and cocked my head grinning at him. “I have discovered that the secret gift of all Wilds is to get on my nerves. Did you bring something to eat?” He nodded and handed me a sack. I started on the sandwiches and apples while he turned on the ignition. “That kid who looked like Devlin couldn’t start the car.”

  Satan snorted. “Stephen’s boy couldn’t start a lighter. He does look like Devlin though. It’s unnerving how alike some of your cousin’s look, while none of them held a candle… So that punk Nick, who’s he?”

  “Am I really supposed to know?” I filled my face hoping he wouldn’t ask any more questions. It was a relief to leave the grounds and hear the gate click closed behind us. “That’s a big house.”

  “Matches my mouth,” he said cheerfully. “You know, Dari, your eyes take on the most peculiar shades when you get upset. They’re kind of bloody looking.”

  “What?” I pulled down the rearview mirror and took my time staring at the face of the girl looking back at me. I’d never seen her before in my life. I knew what I looked like, sallow skin, mousy hair, and pale eyes; there hadn’t been anything nice about me. This girl had color to her face including a glowing tan from a summer spent outdoors, and eyes that sparkled and glowed a reddish violet. I blinked and the reddish hint faded leaving me with eyes the color of clear water slashed with midnight blue. My hair had blondish reddish streaks in the dark brown. I looked like someone interesting, someone dangerous. I pushed the mirror back in its place. “Dad’s not big on mirrors,” I muttered and pulled my knees under my chin. I wondered when I would stop being surprised that I didn’t know who I was.

  Seeing my mother again wasn’t as awkward as I thought it would be. She asked me polite questions about whether I’d had a nice summer while I reconstructed my bedroom. The whole house was stark white and black, and my room didn’t vary from that. I was glad I’d taken my dad up on his offer to bring anything I liked with me. With the rich Persian rug on the floor, teal and gold paisley drapes on the windows, and my bed enveloped in the rich coverlet, my room was a spot of cheerfulness in the otherwise cold house.

  When my mother left me with my trunk to unpack, I opened my closet and stared at the pile of black and white clothes mixed with blankets on the floor in a mishmash pile resembling a rat’s nest. I had a flashing memory of the aching cold wrapped around my bones, the paralysis of my muscles, the need to disappear, to sleep, to escape from the aching emptiness… I slammed the door shut and leaned against it fighting the pain behind my eyeballs. I’d come to terms with things at my father’s house. I really had, but that didn’t make the reality of what I’d been any easier to bear.

  Dinner was quiet. Even Satan, who I expected to be a roughly cheerful person, didn’t seem to have much to say. My mother’s polite expression was starting to get on my nerves. She acted like everything was perfectly normal, perfectly fine, like I was precisely the person I should have been. After I filled my stomach, I shoved away from the table already feeling stifled. As I headed for the door I heard my mother’s voice behind me.

  “Where are you going, Dariana?” Her voice was pleasant but I felt irritated anyway.

  “On a walk. I need some air.” I hated how defensive I sounded.

  “Would you like Satan to go with you?”

  I forced myself to give her a tight smile. “I thought I might stop by Snowy’s house and see how she’s doing. I guess if Satan’s up for some girly fun…”

  “I’ve got some calls to make,” Satan said cutting me off. “I think it’s wise that you stay out of the woods. Got it?”

  I nodded rolling my eyes. I’d spent so much time running barefoot through the woods it seemed ridiculous, but I may as well humor him.

  I walked the quiet streets of Sanders towards Snowy’s house wondering what I was supposed to say to her. I should have known better than to worry about it. After her white-blonde haired mother let me in and greeted me in her strong Norwegian accent, she sent me to Snowy’s room where Snowy pulled me in, slammed the door behind me, and started on a diatribe about the new girl in town.

  “She’s absolutely the most evil person I’ve ever met, and you know I wouldn’t use that term lightly. She moved in this summer and immediately started causing problems.”

  I nodded at her, wondering when she’d notice my new hair color, the fact that it had some, and that instead of being skeletal I had the muscle tone of a gymnast. Apparently she had waited a long time for someone to vent to, because she talked as though I was the same monosyllabic person I’d always been.

  “She’s so fake! Hair, tan, body, you know, everything. And the way she acts around guys is unbelievable! She’s completely pretentious, nauseatingly manipulative, and her clothes are so slutty! All the guys act like complete imbeciles around her, not like I can blame them. Most men having the mental facility of a pong character, but considering the other females in this town they have to compare her to, I can’t see how her glaring defects could possibly go unnoticed. I mean, I was at a pool party the other day, and it was a great party, not as great as if I’d thrown it of course, but really, not bad. Then she comes along and all of a sudden the whole thing changed. It wasn’t about fun; it was about how she looked in a bikini. I really doubt what she wore could be classified legally as clothing, and I am so disappointed in the boys of our school. I really thought that they were above the norm, but every guy there fell all over himself over her. I can’t believe how many people stayed after I and every other person with any decency walked out.”

  “Huh.” I wasn’t sure what to say, but Snowy was still taking a breath, and I wanted to show her that I wasn’t quite the same. “She sounds completely evil. Let’s burn down her house!”

  Snowy blinked, stared at me, then blinked again while I wondered if I should have stayed quiet. She narrowed her eyes and looked me up and down like I’d expected her to do from the moment she saw me, took in my wild hair, silk wrap dress, and old lace up-boots, staring at my face for a little while. “We could, but then someone would have to open their home to the poor dispossessed thing, and you know that would likely be you, or me.” She wrinkled her nose. “The only good thing about her is that she lives on the other side of town. Enough about my traumatic summer, tell me about yours.”

  I opened my mouth and shut it wondering where to start. “It was very laid back. My dad and I bonded and stuff. I wish I could have stayed there. My mother is…” I trailed off.

  “I always hated your dad for leaving you guys like that, but maybe there’s more to that than I knew. I was worried about how you’d be, but Lewis said that your dad used to be a famous therapist or something.”

  I stared at her, shocked she could say his name so casually. My mouth was suddenly dry as I asked, “Lewis?”

  She started rifling through her closet, the black and white punctuated by pink. “Yes. He’s the other newcomer, and completely opposite the evil Valerie. The only problem with him is how reluctant he is to get involved with the community. He never goes to pool parties or anything that’s purely social. If there’s a cause involved he’ll go with Osmond, but otherwise he stays at that old farm and milks cows or whatever.” She frowned and I felt a little bit relieved. She hadn’t sounded like he was her boyfriend.

  “How are the other people? Osmond and everyone else?”

  “Oh, Osmond’s fine. After the first night when Lewis and Osmond got in a fight…” her voice trailed off and she frowned at a black shirt.

  “A fight?” I prodded. She shook her head mutely. “Come on, Snowy. Osmond got into a fight? That doesn’t sound like him. Is he different?”

  She turned away from the closet and smiled brightly, “Of course not. Osmond’s always Osmond, it was only a little misunderstanding. I never got the whole story. Where did you get your dress? It’s really granny, but I think you make it work. I have to go shopping, but I’ve had no time to make it to the city to really do the fall season justice. We should plan on going. W
hat are you going to wear to school tomorrow? I’m going to wear the pink polo with black pleated skirt. You can’t go wrong with a classic.”

  “Right,” I sighed, preparing for a lecture on the glories of the pink polo. “Not that I’d wear a hot pink polo, but you always make it work. What?” I asked wondering why she was looking at me like I was an alien.

  “Nothing. So what are you going to wear tomorrow?”

  I shrugged. “I haven’t thought about it. I only have clothes I brought with me from my dad’s house. That’s okay, though, because I’m kind of over the whole black, white and gray thing. My mother’s house is so bleak. You’re lucky your mother doesn’t have a color phobia.”

  Snowy looked like I’d just suggested dying her hair green. “Your mother’s house is the most chic and stylish place I’ve ever been. I don’t see how you could complain about living somewhere that looks like it came from the pages of architectural digest. That’s ungrateful,” she said in a superior tone.

  I stared at her for a moment as her words sank in. “Ungrateful? You think that I should be grateful that my mother would allow someone as obviously inferior as me a place in her perfect world? And I should be grateful for you and your long-suffering friendship, right? How could I be so selfish not to be grateful for all the wonderful care I’ve always gotten from Devlin’s friends.” I stood up and grabbed my bag. “You know, Snowy, you might want to develop more of a spine instead of letting inferior types like me take advantage of you.” It all came back in a rush, all the times when Devlin had passed me to Snowy and she’d passed to Osmond who served as back up. I didn’t have friends; Devlin had friends. I wasn’t Dariana; I was Devlin’s soulless little sister. I was shaking from the anger that had come over me before I had time to think.

  I left her standing speechless, her mouth in a small “o” behind me. I had to get out before I did something I’d regret. She was the same as she’d always been, I told myself as I stalked down the street. She and Devlin had been perfect for each other. I swallowed a lump in my throat as I tried futilely to shove thoughts of Devlin out of my head. In all honesty, Snowy hadn’t said or done anything unusual, but seeing her had made me feel so out of place, so out of myself. She didn’t have any more idea who I was than I did. Maybe I’d have an easier time making friends with the new girl than I would have trying to figure out how to be my new self around Snowy. It was hard enough being myself around me.