Hotblood

by Juliann Whicker

  I blinked at her and felt a little bit better. Lewis did not like Valerie and had not gone rebounding in her direction. Of course he hadn’t. How could I even think that? I closed my eyes and exhaled, feeling more stupid than usual. “Thanks for telling me. Lewis and Osmond got in a fight.”

  She raised her eyebrow and looked interested, but that was all I was going to say. “Over you? Yes, I can see that. Osmond goes for the protective brother role and ends up as a surprise leg in a love triangle. So Lewis hurt Osmond, and naturally you had to leave with him, which put Lewis in an even worse mood. Oh, I like that,” she gave me the kind of smile that made me doubt her declaration against personal violence.

  “I don’t. Sorry for intruding on your lunch.”

  She batted her eyelashes at me. “Not at all. A word of advice Dariana; stay away from puce.”

  I stared at her, then down at my shirt and left her laughing behind me. I felt better even though I was certain she’d gotten the best of that conversation. Lewis hadn’t liked her talking to me, no, of course he hadn’t. Letting down his guard and letting me feel, really know what it was like to be with him had been something he’d worked at avoiding for weeks. I felt a wash of dizziness at the memory of dancing through the darkness before I got a grip.

  In Sewing, I was assaulted by wild applause as I entered the room. “There she is,” Smoke said dramatically, “The best Homecoming display this school’s ever seen.”

  I rolled my eyes and walked to Ash’s desk then perched on the edge ignoring the rest of the room. “Is he always like this?” I asked nodding towards Smoke who was still going around the room getting everyone worked up, or just annoyed.

  “I guess.” His response was quiet, but his voice, like always, made me want to hear more. “You look better than I expected.”

  I winced then smiled brightly at him. “It must be all the sleep I’ve gotten this weekend, or the time I spent staring at my Axel painting. You know, Ash, you’re really observant.”

  “Hey, what are you guys talking about?” Smoke said cheerfully, coming up to us.

  “My painting,” I said and slid off Ash’s desk.

  “Oh that reminds me.” He pulled out his bag and fished around for a minute before pulling out a scrap of paper. “You dropped this in my car that time in the city.”

  “What?” I asked and he handed me the paper. I remembered the first time I’d seen the Axel, the guy who had flirted with me, and crumpled the paper up into a ball.

  “I thought it sounded pretty cool,” Smoke said making me hesitate before I threw it in the garbage. I smoothed it out and read an invitation to an exclusive Axel exhibit with the chance to meet the painter. A week before I would have been excited, now I shrugged and threw it in the trash.

  “Good,” Ash said so low I could barely hear him.

  “Why?” Smoke asked. “I thought Dari would be stoked. I mean, she loves that painting, right?”

  Ash shook his head but Smoke kept pressing until finally Ash said, “It would be dangerous for someone like Dari to go to a place that’s likely crawling with Hotbloods.”

  “Hotbloods sound cool,” Smoke said, but Ash shook his head and focused on sewing two green pieces of fabric together.

  I went back to my desk thinking about what Ash had said then went to the garbage and fished out the invite. If Hotbloods would be drawn to an Axel exhibit then maybe that was where I could find Lewis. I checked the date. It was on Halloween, only a week away. The address was a place in the city I would have to look up. I could go, check out the painter and maybe run into Lewis. It wasn’t much, but it was something, and I needed a chance to see Lewis again, to find out what had happened. After only three days, the ache in my chest was only getting worse.

  I went hunting that night, but there was no sign of the Nether, and the death tasted flat to me. I’d only had one dance with Lewis without him leaning me. One dance, but the feeling of it stayed with me, leaving everything else dull in comparison.

  “So,” Snowy said as she drove me to school the next morning.

  “So, sewing. Who knew it could be so complicated. Smoke is such a great sewer, I think I should ask him to help me after school some time.”

  “If you must,” she said rolling her eyes. “So what are you doing for Halloween? There’s a great party, well, maybe not great, but half decent anyway. You should go.”

  “I’m sorry Snowy, but I’m busy that night.”

  “Oh, really?” She looked at me skeptically. “Right, because your thriving social life is the envy of Sanders. Come on, Dari, you have to do stuff.”

  “I don’t have to do anything. Since when did you become the personal activities committee for my life?”

  She argued, whined, threatened, and finally I admitted that I was going to the city, really had something to do so she would lay off. I should have known it wouldn’t work.

  “You’re going to a high scale showing? What are you going to wear?”

  “Puce. What does it matter?”

  She looked at me like I’d committed some heinous crime and shook her head. “If you’re going to an art gallery for Halloween, I’m coming with you.”

  “Snowy, you hate art. The last time you went was memorably not your best time. You have fun at that great party…”

  “This isn’t about art,” she said cutting me off. “It’s about the people who will be there. I may meet someone interesting. Anyway, there’s no way for you to get to the city by yourself unless you’ve gotten your license in the last two days.”

  I sighed, but she’d won the argument. I was a little bit glad to have her. The idea of running into Lewis without any kind of moral support had me feeling sick, and for the first time since I’d gotten a soul, I did want to look good, and no one was better for that than Snowy.

  The rest of the week passed tortuously slowly. Without Lewis to lean me, I came to know the bewildering depth of my attachment. I missed him every time I woke up. At school, every time I turned a corner, I would look up and feel the pain that he wasn’t there, every time, but I kept going. My mother watched me closely, spending every evening at home, instead of at the office like she usually did. I tried to appreciate it. Satan spent time coming and going but didn’t try to chat again. I almost missed the chats. The truth was, I was getting tired of being brave, of being strong and feeling less and less whole. The only thing that kept me trying was the gallery opening.

  On Friday afternoon, I sat on my bed knitting, hearing the sound of trick-or-treaters out the window. It was Halloween and my mother would be leaving soon for the elementary school where she would be dressed like a good witch and read them stories. She’d asked me if I wanted her to stay, or if I wanted to come with her, but I’d passed. I hadn’t told her about the gallery opening. I could not let her know where Lewis was in case they found out that he was a blood worker and jumped to the same conclusion I had.

  It was finally time for me to go to Snowy’s, and I threw my knitting in my bag along with my knife, just in case. When I got to her house she led me to her room and after a brief overhaul announced that I was ready for the art world. I looked in the mirror at the edgy, asymmetrical-skirt-wearing girl, all in black with textured tights and tall boots, and wanted to roll my eyes. I looked dangerous and interesting. Snowy dressed in all black, but with her hair for contrast, she looked more striking than I did.

  “So, why isn’t your mother taking you?” she asked as we got in her parent’s SUV.

  “She’s always a witch for Halloween,” I said, and Snowy snickered.

  “It’s a good thing I know what you mean.” She pulled out with a jerk and I thought there was no way I would be a worse driver than Snowy. I had to get my license one of these days. I had to stop being at the mercy of Snowy who wouldn’t take me anywhere if I wasn’t dressed to her exacting standards. I pushed the thought away as we covered the long miles.

  “So you think Lewis will be there?” She asked during a particularly long lull.
r />   I felt my stomach tighten at the mention of his name. “I don’t know.”

  “But you hope he’ll be there. I think the whole thing at Homecoming was completely blown out of proportion. Osmond completely overreacted, it’s not like you two were doing anything really interesting. I think it was the way you were looking at him that bothered Osmond so much.”

  I sank down in my seat and felt a wave of embarrassment. “Yeah, I still want to kill him. It’s none of his business who I like.”

  “Like?” Snowy snickered. “You are so beyond like it’s hilarious. Well, not to Osmond, he really takes his big brother role seriously. I think it’s fabulous.”

  “I thought you were angry with him for leaving you at Smoke’s mercy.”

  She waved her hand dismissively. “I survived, and I feel bad for him, you running like that over a few scars. Honestly, Dari, it was like you have a phobia or something.”

  I shivered and forced a smile. “Something. So, have you ever thought about dating Smoke?” The look on her face made the question even more worthwhile than the original avoidance tactic I’d used it for. She spent the rest of the drive explaining in so many words exactly why that question was so ludicrous. I got to block her out and worry about what would happen if Lewis was there. There was a good chance he wouldn’t talk to me. I wasn’t sure exactly what I should say anyway. It was all so awkward, but I would simply push through until he listened to me, and explained to me, until things made sense.

  We got to the city and made our way downtown. I knew we must be close when we turned a corner and followed the bumper-to-bumper rows of cars to the brilliantly lit building at the end of the block, the lights illuminating the expanse of gray stone that would have done a courthouse proud. We finally arrived at the building and two valets helped us out then took the SUV off to be parked leaving us standing at the bottom of a wide set of stairs.

  “This is very cool,” Snowy said, but she tucked her arm in mine as we climbed towards the immense pillars, not quite as comfortable with the gaudiness of the people around us, the furs, the slinky dresses and men’s tuxedos as she’d like to be. For once she was underdressed, and that was something she’d never be happy about. She gripped her purse tightly and smiled at one of the guys in sunglasses with ear pieces who stood in front of the door. I felt a wave of anxiety before all the men got expressions of intense pain on their faces and ripped the earpieces out. I could hear the static and felt bad for them, having to use something so notoriously unstable.

  I tried a smile at the guy who stood in front of the door, a scowl on his face, his eyes hidden by sunglasses. “Invitation please,” he said roughly, his mood unimproved from his ear ache. Snowy’s grip tightened on my arm as I fished in my bag, and my hand brushed the handle of my dad’s knife before I pulled out the crumpled piece of paper. He gave it a cursory glance and nodded us through the doors. I sighed in relief then stopped breathing as we entered the building. Axels were everywhere. The swirling gold, purples, blues and yellows were dazzling, and there weren’t only abstracts. As we walked through the display, landscapes blended with still life and abstract until I wasn’t sure which was which. The paint in each was so potent I could hardly make out the image it was supposed to represent. Behind everything was music, low and throbbing, that had the steady rhythm of a heartbeat, with a drum that increased in tempo as we moved.

  “Did you see that dress?” Snowy asked me in a low voice, not quite a whisper, because I couldn’t have heard a whisper over the music.

  I looked around, and for the first time noticed the people. They were different from each other, some looked tough, some had sophistication that went with money, but all of them stared around them with half glazed eyes that glowed ever so slightly. I stopped moving inward, towards the center, as the current, the drumbeat, and the paintings all wanted me to do and instead pulled to the side between a painting and a wall. This time when I looked around I could see past the paintings to the edges of the room where different people stood, holding glasses and smiling, but there was something unnatural about it. I looked at Snowy and she was looking in the same direction I was.

  “None of them are socializing,” she said critically. “They stand in groups like someone arranged them that way. It’s something I would do, place people and start a conversation topic, but no one is talking. This building is freezing.”

  I looked at her, and nodded, noticing the chilliness of the floors and the way the glowing-eyed people were dressed for summer while the people around the edges were well covered. Every woman had long sleeves with a collar, like my mother would have worn. We were in the middle of a group of Hotbloods while Wilds surrounded us. My heart beat faster than the music as I really looked around, took in the architecture of the building, the layout of the paintings. What came to mind was shooting gallery. The enormous room was lined with rows of balconies, and the display spiraled around to the center, the band on the side opposite the front doors, and refreshments beneath the balcony on the side. There were no windows, only a skylight sixty feet above me.

  “It’s remarkable, isn’t it?” a red-haired, freckle-faced girl, probably twenty or so, said cheerfully.

  “Oh, yes,” Snowy responded soberly. “All that fur.”

  Her smile faded as she looked at Snowy, and Snowy gave her a bland smile in return. She stalked off and Snowy sighed. “This is not quite what I expected a high-brow event to be. No one is laughing, it’s like we’re waiting for something. Oh, I suppose we’re waiting for the artist. Dari, I’m going to find some refreshments. Are you coming?”

  I shook my head no and kept staring at the paintings, but they weren’t quite as fascinating when I felt eyes on me from the balcony, the sides, although it was probably my imagination. I hoped now that Lewis wouldn’t come here. This was a dangerous place to be. So why was I here? Snowy was right. I more than liked him. I noticed the barriers around some of the paintings and could feel the energy coming off of them, even with the thick glass. They felt alluring and enticing, the paint drawing me in. The portraits were a surprise. The paint was less raw, the work polished to a technical perfection, but in front of one, the girl’s face held such sorrow I wanted to weep, the next, her eyes were filled with a joy that made me want to laugh. After that, I kept my distance from the paintings; I didn’t want to get hysterical. I was already wound up enough.

  The path between paintings curved around and I looked up and saw Lewis. It wasn’t really him of course. He wouldn’t be hanging in the air with only his upper body, looking grouchily larger than life. It was a Lewis I’d never seen, his face was in a frown that may have simply been him concentrating on his work, but he looked grumpy and old.

  “What do you think of the artist? Women who make it this far are supposed to faint in awe at the self-portrait, not frown like that.” His self-portrait? I turned my head and it was the same guy who’d given me the invitation, his smile a little bit fake. I turned back to the painting, my heart racing and my head aching; Lewis could not be Axel the painter. There had to be another explanation, but Lewis’ frown looked at me, the painting couldn’t be anyone else.

  “He’s frowning, why shouldn’t I? For the artist I expected someone more handsome and maybe wearing leather.” I felt oddly numb, staring up at Lewis’ picture scowling at me. There was something off about the stranger beside me, something almost familiar, like a dream that was bad enough to wake me from sleep, but one I quickly forgot. I didn’t like him.

  The man’s eyebrows rose in his face and this time he looked almost authentic when he smiled. “I thought you weren’t a Hotblood. I’m certain you would change your mind if you were to meet him. He had an amazing amount of charm.” The man had an amazing amount of charm. He practically oozed charm, and I felt soaked in the dripping overkill of it. I took a step away from him, wishing I’d never come.

  “Are you his agent or something else?” Snowy’s voice came from behind me. “You sound practically in love with him.”


  I turned relieved to see Snowy, but was surprised when she pushed between the two of us and looked at the guy scathingly. Bad manners weren’t usually her thing, particularly when dealing with complete strangers.

  “I am a contemporary of his,” he said looking more amused at Snowy’s near assault than anything else. “He was one of the most difficult people to kill.”

  I stared at him while Snowy replied as though that was the kind of thing people said all the time. “So he’s dead then? Honestly, Dari, did we really come all this way to look at a corpse? This is the last time I’m letting you pick the Halloween gig.”

  I looked at her while she looked back at me pointedly. “We should go,” I said and felt stupid it had taken me so long to get to this point. Obviously, this was not the place I wanted to meet Lewis.

  There was a scuffle along the edge of the crowd that took the guy’s attention off of me. As he looked away I saw how dangerous he could be, his eyes glowing, his shirt buttoned high under his chin, his mouth still smiling, but he would be smiling while he drove a knife under your ribs. I moved away from him, hanging onto Snowy’s arm. He was a blood worker. I couldn’t understand how I’d missed it, but then he looked at me again and it was hard for me to think clearly. It was him, messing with my mind. All the other glowing eyed people had unbuttoned shirts, the ladies wore dresses Valerie would have envied, except here and there was a girl who looked my age, with glowing eyes and a high collared shirt, a guy beside her with the same shirt. As we walked towards the exit they were all looking at us, amusement growing on their faces as we came to a stop.