Hotblood

by Juliann Whicker

  It felt like I hadn’t been by myself for a long time. In my father’s woods I’d had the chance to be alone every day to think and figure things out. Here, I got so busy trying to keep up with school and Snowy, hunting, living with my mother and Satan, that I didn’t get to think. There were so many things I didn’t know: why Lewis kissed me, how I took his soul, what a Hunter was exactly, what Ace kept in his warehouse, where the bloodworker was who killed my brother, and why he’d killed him for starters. I wanted to know why my mother was terrified of the idea of me being soul mates with Lewis, who as far as I could tell was a perfectly good person. There was something about Lewis that made my heart rate increase when I thought of him. I felt so much better when we were together. All evening I had felt as though there was something about him, about us, that was different than it had been before. This feeling about Lewis didn’t make sense when we were so clearly uninvolved romantically, but maybe soul mates weren’t supposed to make sense.

  “Do you find the party a little understimulating as well?” Valerie’s saccharine voice drawled. I blinked out of my reverie to see her walking towards me out of the shadows. I felt an instinctive urge to grab my knife, ready to defend myself. She sat down beside me and sighed prettily. “This has got to be the most boring town I’ve ever visited.”

  “And yet, we like it that way. I’m sorry it’s dull for you, but you know you could always leave.”

  She smiled cattily. “Oh, I’ll do my leaving, but it wouldn’t be like me to do that without shaking things up a little. Where’s Lewis? I thought he was your date for this grand affair.”

  I shrugged uncomfortably. “We’re here together but not like a date. You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Oh, I understand,” she said slowly, stretching out languidly. “He wants something and you give it to him. If he wants to be chums, well gosh, why not? If he wants you to dangle around while he refuses to make any kind of commitment, well, after all, he is much more attractive than you, so of course what he says goes.”

  “I don’t get it,” I said, honestly confused. “Are you saying that I should pin him down or what? I thought you thought he was out of my league.”

  “Of course he is. It’s wrong for a boy to date a girl like you who has no chance to hold her own. I wouldn’t even mention it to you except that earlier today, and even watching you dance, I can see that you have potential.”

  “For what exactly?” I didn’t want to have potential to be like her.

  “To control your own life. If you weren’t at such a huge disadvantage, I might actually put my money on you.”

  “Thanks,” I muttered but I felt less defensive. Controlling my life would be a nice change. “I don’t really see what you mean about Lewis. He’s nice.”

  “Nice,” she mocked. “Isn’t he though? I bet he’s never said anything that made you feel angry, or insulted, or furious, has he? I wonder how he does it. I wonder how he manages to never say the wrong thing at the wrong time, how every time you look at him you think, ‘how nice’, when anyone in her right mind would be thinking, ‘I could use a piece of that slab, mmm-hmmm.’ I watched you dance with Smoke and the way you move displays a certain sensuality that doesn’t exactly fit the whole polo girl thing.”

  “I don’t wear polo’s,” I said, but I was starting to understand what she meant. “You think he’s making me feel the way I do about him?” It would make some things about this evening make more sense.

  She smiled a cat-with-cream smile, stood up, and adjusted her dress. “Of all the emotions Lewis should evoke, nice is not one of them. Tell Snowy the bubble gum queen look is so her,” she said walking off.

  I sat there alone, thinking about Lewis and the way I reacted to his touch, the way I liked being with him, but not only that, the way I never felt out of control around him after he looked at me with his warm eyes. It must be the leaning. He’d admitted it when he said he had my soul, my mother had been happy about it while Old Peter was still talking about soul mates. I hadn’t asked for details, my mind had been spinning at the idea of kissing, and taking his soul—the leaning hadn’t seemed that important. It did now. I hadn’t traded Devlin making my choices to Lewis and my mother deciding what was best for me.

  The doors opened and I heard the beginning strains of a tango being played.

  “Dari, is that you?” Lewis asked.

  I held myself perfectly still and analyzed my emotions. There was a flash of something burning that melted away under Lewis’ warm gaze. I frowned and forced myself to look at him, to see what Valerie saw when she looked at him. He was tall with broad shoulders and a presence and posture that reminded me of Devlin, the way Devlin had so much confidence and self-awareness. He cocked his head and smiled at me, but I didn’t smile back.

  “Stop leaning me.” The words were out of my mouth before I could change my mind. He looked confused, hurt almost, but I narrowed my eyes, trying to see past the niceness, the vulnerability. There was hardness around his mouth as I saw him thinking, processing this new development.

  “Who have you been talking to?” he finally asked.

  I stood up and took two steps towards him, then circled him slowly, only half aware that I moved in time to the music. He kept his eyes on me, turning his body when I was behind him. I felt a wave of embarrassment that I was acting like this. I stepped forward and shoved against his chest hard.

  “I said, stop leaning me.”

  He caught hold of my hands and we stood there in a wordless struggle as I felt his heart beneath my palms beating faster and faster.

  “Dari, this is not a good idea,” he said in a low voice that gave me goose bumps on the back of my neck.

  “I don’t care.”

  He smiled but there wasn’t anything nice about it. I looked at him and instead of seeing nice I saw exquisite. He wasn’t made of flesh and bone and blood; his skin was smoother than marble, carved by a master. I swallowed as I felt the contours of his chest under my hands. The fabric of his jacket on my wrists chafed and I found my hands moving on their own volition up his body to his shoulders. I pushed the jacket back as he shrugged and let it fall, catching it with one hand.

  The music echoed strangely in the dark hall, dimly lit by the oval skylights. I swallowed and took two steps back, suddenly nervous as I realized how right Valerie was about me having no chance against him. Lewis had gone from the boy next door to demi-god, with next to no transition. He tossed his jacket on the steps and cocked his head to the side, but this time he was considering dangerous things that I didn’t want to know.

  I took another step backwards as he moved closer. He walked in time to the tango that played distantly, his face slightly illuminated by the skylight as we moved into the main hall. Lewis took my hand and I gasped as the feel of his skin on mine burned and didn’t stop, didn’t fade into a mildly pleasant sensation. He moved so smoothly walking me backwards—no one was that smooth. Not even Devlin could move with that combination of lethal intent and physical capability. I stumbled, mesmerized by the way he moved, the moonlit marble and shadowy pillars barely noticeable as we danced down the hall. It was incredible that I’d never noticed the strength and intensity of his movement; it spoke of violence barely held in check, perfect for a tango.

  As the pace quickened, he tightened his hold on my hand and pulled me against him for a moment before moving away. I breathed shallowly, hardly aware of what my feet were doing. I didn’t need to pay attention to my feet; he was the perfect lead, moving me where I should be. I let my mind shut off, caught up in the motion, the intensity that built inside of me as he moved, face illuminated by the moonlight or something internal.

  I missed a step as I stared at the unearthly face. He was too intense to be human. He smiled at me, a smile that brought my breathing to a sudden halt. He wasn’t real. Nothing could exist in this world that was so unutterably alive. My sudden rush of inadequacy didn’t stop me from wanting to touch that skin, to see how it felt now that I could
really feel it.

  I swayed against him, dizzy with a rush of bloodlust mixed with something else, a wrenching in my stomach. He held me up and forced me on my feet, turning in a complex step that should have taken all my concentration but was easier than breathing. Breathing was the struggle.

  He lifted me, throwing me away from him, but maintaining the grasp on my wrist. I’d never moved so fast to anything so intricate. He was close to me again, then away.

  I followed him, struggling to get closer, to wrap my hands around him, but he always twisted out of reach with the perfect motion that didn’t belong in this world.

  I realized vaguely that the music had faded, but it didn’t seem to matter since we were moving in time to his heartbeat, a rapid thumping that matched mine.

  I jerked a ragged breath, twisting away from him, before he pulled me against his solid body and I let my head drop back, exposing my neck to him, my pulse beating wildly in my skin. We were at the base of the second tower, the one opposite study hall. Lewis touched my throat with his fingertips before he let go and turned me towards the narrow staircase. I had no thought. How we danced in that narrow confine, I’ll never know, then we were there at the top of the stairs, in the room below the bell tower. Moonlight generously flooded the square room, empty besides some old drop cloths, and the odd broken sewing machine or dysfunctional table. Lewis set me on the edge of a table, leaning over me. I stopped breathing, the edge of the table pressing into the back of my knees; the confines of the world that surrounded me all disappeared as his eyes gazed into mine.

  His face shifted in a change of emotion from one of intensity to something like confusion.

  “I told you this was a bad idea,” he said through gritted teeth before he spun around and left me there. I breathed then, ragged gasps around the raw tear in my chest where my heart had been. He threw himself against the old door and it burst open. I scrambled to follow him. Thoughtlessly, I ran out onto the roof where the moon showed him standing at the end of the walkway. To my right were the rows of stained glass.

  I slowed down letting the wind cool all the skin my jacket should be covering. I went to him, I couldn’t help myself, but I took my time.

  “You said not good,” I said when I was close enough that he could hear me without raising my voice, but far enough he wouldn’t feel like he had to run. “That’s not the same as bad. There are lots of levels between good and bad. Did you know that smashing a grand piano falls under mediocre? How was I to know that you dancing with me and not leaning me would be…” I stopped before I said incredible. I didn’t think it was something he wanted to hear as he leaned against the parapet looking out into the darkness. “So you can dance,” I said lamely, still struggling to breathe, trying to get a grip on everything that had flown completely out of control in the last ten minutes.

  “I can dance,” he said quietly.

  “Why me?” I was starting to understand what Old Peter had meant when he said Lewis kissing me was the weirdest thing about all of it.

  He laughed bitterly and shook his head. “Soul mate. That’s the short answer. I’m drawn to you as inevitably as a firefly to a flame.”

  “Or a solar powered refrigerator…” I said quietly, not finishing the analogy. The closer I got to him, the less my chest ached. Instead my heart pounded while warmth spread through me. I felt alive and beyond physics, like I could count every particle of matter between him and myself.

  He turned around and looked at me, puzzled. “You’re making jokes?”

  I forced myself not to stare at him, to look out into the darkness instead. “I’m trying.” I held my breath as I stepped close enough that if we both extended arms our fingertips would touch. I leaned against the wall and soaked in the night, letting it combine with the chaotic turmoil inside of me.

  “Aren’t you angry with me for leaning you, and taking you up here like this?” he asked quietly.

  “Maybe, but it’s buried far below this incredible awareness of your perfection.” I should have made the words sound flippant and joking but they didn’t. Oh well. He had to know how amazing he was, acting oblivious now would be pointless.

  He chuckled, and I smiled, letting the sound of his laugh rush through me, filling me with trembling exultation. I had made him laugh.

  “I’m so tired,” he said, under his breath. “I’ve held everything tightly so you wouldn’t feel ensnared. I tried to be fair, at least I tell myself that; you don’t want the soul mate experience. Your mother agreed with me, and since she has experience with soul mates, I was even more justified.” His voice was beautiful, full of emotion, strength, and so vibrant. There was energy in every word, every slight movement beside me, I could feel with a new sense. “I have my soul mate an arms length away, and I’m complaining. I suppose in all honesty, I didn’t know if I could do the right thing if I didn’t have distance.”

  “Distance is difficult,” I said, feeling the pull of him, so far, but close enough I would hang onto that closeness, treasure it so long as I got some of him. “What is the right thing?” I asked looking over at him.

  I only caught a quick glimpse of his eyes before he turned back to the darkness. “I don’t know, but I’ve never worried so much about it before I met you.” His words made me warm as I considered the crazy notion that he saw me the same way I saw him. Maybe it wasn’t that Lewis was so amazing, as that he was amazing to me because he was my soul mate. The thought of him being mine stayed in my head; I so very much wanted Lewis to stay with me always. The strength of my need made me turn away from him. Doing the right thing was more difficult if you really wanted something wrong. Were we wrong together? I felt a flash of fury with myself that I hadn’t seen it before now. The first thing I did when I met him was to steal his soul. I did to him what Devlin had done to me, ripping out his life, heat, all the things about him that made him stunning. I didn’t have anything to do with the Nether deciding to get involved and give Lewis my soul, keeping him alive. I’d as good as murdered him because I needed what he had. I’d traded his life for mine.

  I closed my eyes and sank against the stones, feeling the hardness beneath my fingers as I held on, trying to understand, to see how I could do something like that to the person I…

  “Dari, are you all right?” He asked, and I felt his fingertips on my shoulder.

  I took a shuddering breath before I tried to explain. “It’s hard for me to think, to understand how you can be here, how you can like me after I took your soul.”

  “I kissed you,” he said quietly, as though he understood me. “You never intended me harm. The truth is, at the risk of losing my soul, I’d do it again.”

  I turned to him then and took his hand, holding onto him tightly. “No. Please don’t say that. Don’t even think it. I will never hurt you again. I promise.” I found myself smoothing his hair out of his face, willing him to believe me.

  “Why not?” he asked and put his arms around me, looking down at me. The gentleness in his eyes made me want to weep, to scream, to make certain he never looked at me any other way.

  “Because I…” the rest of what I was going to say was drowned out as Osmond’s voice rang through the night.

  “What’s going on?”

  I stiffened as I realized how close we were together, my hands on his hair, his arms around my waist and felt Lewis’ arms tighten instinctively around me as I tried to turn to Osmond. In a moment Lewis relaxed his grip and reassembled his cheerful smile as he stepped away from me.

  “Dancing. Dari was teaching me some steps.” I looked at him skeptically, and he smiled sweetly. “One, two, three and one, two, three.”

  I was bewildered at how he could smile and look so genuinely relaxed when only a moment ago he’d seemed so intense. I didn’t pay any attention to Osmond as he crossed the roof towards us.

  “It didn’t look like dancing. That takes music, and moving, which neither one of you were doing.”

  The harshness of Osmond’s voice got
my attention. When I looked over to see his face, I was startled by the anger that infused his features. Lewis pulled me back and put his body in front of me before taking Osmond’s punch in the face. It all happened so fast, Osmond hitting Lewis, Lewis falling backwards, Osmond grabbing at his shirt, and jerking it with enough force to scatter his buttons across the parapet, twinkling in the moonlight like fallen stars. I heard the sound of the buttons on the glass skylight and saw Snowy’s white face as she grabbed Osmond from behind. He shook her off and took two steps away from Lewis.

  “I’m done, Snowy.” He gave me a half glance and I needed to rip his head off and… my step forward was stopped by Lewis’ outstretched hand. I dropped to my knees, giving Osmond a glare that told him exactly what I would do to him after I made sure Lewis was all right. There wasn’t any blood from Osmond’s punch, but Lewis stayed there on the ground, slightly to the side with his shoulders hunched, his eyes focused on the stones.

  “Lewis?” I asked and tentatively put a hand to his cheek. The softness of his skin was amazing—like silken feathers.

  “Dari, it’s not as if I could really hurt him,” Osmond said and I felt a muscle tense in Lewis’ jaw beneath my fingers.

  “Well, his shirt doesn’t look so good,” Snowy said sounding displeased. Of course she would care more about clothes than anything else.

  “Dari, why don’t you get a ride home with Osmond?” Lewis said. The words were incomprehensible.

  “I’m not going anywhere with him. You’re crazy if you think I’m going to leave you lying there, and don’t lean me!” I gripped Lewis’ shoulders and glared into eyes that finally focused on mine. I saw something in them that I didn’t expect. He looked afraid of me. I drew back, bewildered, as Lewis got to his feet, holding his shirt together with both hands like he was protecting himself from me.