I was wrapped in Zach's arms and didn't struggle, my heart felt like a dead lump in my chest.
The first, hot tear made its way down my face. It trembled on my jaw then fell onto the hands that held me captive. My eyes never left Cole's. He shook his head like a dazed bull, trying to rid himself of the fog that he found himself in.
Struggling to stand, Erik came to Cole and slammed the butt of the tranquilizer gun into his temple.
I screamed as Cole staggered back against the wall.
“Enough,” Zach said. “You have your uses, Intimate. Don't make me rethink them.”
Erik was breathing heavily, I could see he wanted to lay into Cole but Zach was his master here.
Erik looked at me. “You're so stupid. The rogue used me for months to spy on you. They were just waiting for the perfect opportunity to take you from underneath their noses,” he said, gesturing with the gun at Cole.
“You talk too much. Your singular job is to watch the Reaper. If he moves, shoot him.”
“He ain't gonna move. He has two darts stuck in him!”
Zach's hand lashed out so fast I couldn't track it but Erik's head rocked back and he stumbled. A spot of blood appeared at the corner of his mouth.
“Do not underestimate the Reapers. They are the elite of the Vampire. He will try to reacquire this one. It appears that he has bonded with her. Fool... do you not understand what that means?”
Clearly, Erik did not but continued to give Zach his sullen regard.
“As long as he lives, he will seek her.”
“Then let me do him right now!” Erik said in frustration.
Zach shook his head. “It is best to leave him. Let him live or not. Let the others deal with him. He is as sought as us now. He cannot return after he has bonded with this female. He is obliged to share in his kiss. Correct?” Zach swung his gaze to Cole.
Cole just stared back at him.
Zach dragged me backwards and Erik trained the gun on Cole. Cole's dull eyes were full of rage and grief as they flicked from the human that held the gun on him to mine, anguished.
Zach laughed at Cole's look and he surged forward.
To rescue me.
I watched in slow motion as Erik depressed the trigger, the meaty sound of the impact striking through the inky cloth of Cole's shirt.
The light died in his eyes, as he slid down the wall.
Erik looked at me with triumph and turned to Zach.
I struggled to get away, to go to Cole, to be away from Erik and the rogue.
It was futile. I was tossed over his shoulder as they moved down the stairs. As we exited the stairwell I saw the long black SUV waiting at the curb.
Smoke from its exhaust curled lazily in the chilled night air. Erik opened the door and from my view it looked like a huge mouth waiting to swallow me whole.
I beat at Zach with my fists and he held me to him so tightly I couldn't breathe. Finally when he tired of my struggling he looked at Erik. “Give it to me.”
An evil smile overcame his face from the front seat and he handed back a cloth soaked with something foul. Zach covered my face with it and my last thought was of Cole. I was in the hands of the enemy.
The rogue.
I saw, as if through dark water, a huge figure stagger down the staircase, a blurred silhouette in black.
Zach saw him too and a smile curled his mouth. With two fingers he pointed them ahead of the car and said to the driver, “Go... now.”
Cole rushed the car as it sped away and the last words I heard before consciousness left me was, “You did not use near enough tranquilizer.”
Cole's howls followed me down into the endless spiral of unconsciousness and I knew no more.
THE END
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BLOOD SINGERS
A Blood Series Novel
Book 1
New York Times Bestselling Author
TAMARA ROSE BLODGETT
All Rights Reserved.
Copyright © 2007-12 Tamara Rose Blodgett
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system without the prior written permission of the publisher.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
www.tamararoseblodgett.com
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Edited suggestions provided by Red Adept Editing.
Cover Design: Claudia McKinney
Photographs: DepositPhotos
Photography: Oleg Gekman
Once they had eliminated the impossible, whatever remained, however improbable, must be the truth.
~Sherlock Holmes
Prologue
Julia pressed her nose to the glass, the trees a sea of green as they rushed outside her window, her momma and daddy's voices a low and pleasant drone from the front seat.
She hated the belt. It pressed across her neck in an uncomfortable place, itchy and suffocating.
“Momma,” Julia whined.
Her mother's chocolate eyes appeared over the front seat, such a contrast to the auburn hair held in her customary ponytail.
“What is it?”
Julia worked her small finger under the belt. “I hate, hate this stupid strap! I want to take it off!” She crossed her arms, huffing.
Momma sighed, unlatching her belt, and turned in the front seat to adjust the neck-restraint portion of Julia's seatbelt. At once, Momma's scent assaulted her where it intimately combined with the perfume she always wore.
Daddy said from the front, “Amber, sit back down. The belt's latched. She's just going to have to deal with it for another ten minutes.”
Julia's eyes narrowed to slits. Daddy was so stubborn. His belt didn't bite into his neck because he was a Big Man! Ugh. Julia fumed.
Momma smiled and began to turn, and Julia saw Daddy's face in profile, watching to make sure she sat down safely.
He only took his eyes off the road for a moment.
It was long enough.
Twin beads of light bore down on their car as an impossibly large grill came to eat them, the chrome winking in the late-afternoon light.
Daddy made a correction to the right, but that threw Momma on top of him, imprisoning their bodies in a macabre dance, the steering wheel sandwiching them together.
As if in slow motion, Momma looked at Julia's father.
The knowledge of their impending death appeared on their faces like an unspoken promise.
Julia screamed as the truck slammed into the car, and the belt that she hated so much whipped against her neck and slammed her against the back seat with such force that the breath left her small body.
She watched as her parents were crushed together in a final embrace.
The metal colliding was an earthquake in her ears, and something wet and warm hit her face. She opened her eyes and her parents were… everywhere, their blood like a blanket that coated her skin and hair.
Her brain howled, refusing to accept what was happening. Her vision clouded. Her neck and head throbbed, and her lungs were a burning inferno with a need to scream.
The last thing she remembered was her mother's hair entwined in the steering wheel like so much spun copper.
#
CHAPTER ONE
Ten Years Later
Julia stuffed her wool cap down more firmly on her head and waded through the icy puddles on the way to her 1977 Chevy Blazer. Fall had edged into early winter, and the dampness of the rain had solidified into a dangerous sheet of ice.
Julia had been prepared, and instead of wearing the latest Ugg fashion boots, she'd pulled on her XtraTufs. They had an unparalleled ugliness but did the job. She might keep her ass in the air instead of pegged to an ice puddle by weari
ng her trusty boots. She threw her backpack over one shoulder and balanced a steaming cup of coffee in her hand. When Aunt Lily had asked about the contents of the mug, Julia had lied through her teeth. Her aunt seemed to think caffeine was the devil's drink. Julia smiled at that. She was done growing, and besides, coffee was a mainstay of Alaskan existence. She shuffled to the driver's side and gripped the handle. Then her feet lost some of their purchase, and she slid to the right, her coffee sloshing out of the slit in the travel mug's lid.
“Shit!” Julia said as a couple of hot drops landed on her wrist, scalding her.
After grappling with the handle, she jerked the door open and slammed the palm of her free hand against the driver's seat, steadying herself until she could heave her backpack inside.
But her breath stilled in her lungs when she saw what waited for her: a single rose, its delicate form in a beautiful, ethereal tangerine color, lay inches from where her reddened and chapped hand had slapped down.
She'd almost destroyed it while saving her sliding butt from falling.
A smile stole over her face, and she carefully put her travel mug in the cup holder between the seats and picked up the flower. There was no note, but she knew who had laid it there: her fiancé, Jason. Their relationship was a secret. Aunt Lily would have ten different kinds of cows if she knew how serious she and Jason really were.
She looked around, her breath coming in white puffs in the crisp air. The snow having not committed itself to falling yet, the promise still hung in the air. It would be like him, Julia thought, to pop up just as she discovered his present and grab her from behind, twirling her around.
But he wasn't there.
Huh. She turned the keys and jacked up the heat all the way. In five minutes, she'd hit the road, head to Homer High. She was spoiled. Usually Jason picked her up, but today she had to head over to the DMV and get a stupid emissions test. It was amazing they even allowed her to drive her gas-guzzling truck. She sighed. Soon, she'd be with Jason.
*
School
Julia tore off her multi-colored, itchy hat as she waltzed into the school. The familiar smell of kids, books, and lunch wafted across the air, the chill of late fall left outside the doors.
She fluffed her champagne-colored hair, hoping to eradicate the hat head she'd tagged herself with on the way over.
“Hey, bestie!” Cynthia cried.
Julia laughed. Hadn't she just spent all day and a night last weekend with Cyn? She acted as though they'd been separated for months.
“Hey Cyn,” Julia said, slowing down to let her catch up.
As usual, Cyn was dressed to the nines: high heels, ridiculously tight-ass pants, and the latest off-the-shoulder top with a crazy zebra pattern. It made Julia dizzy looking at it.
“What?” Cynthia looked at Julia's face.
“Your top. It's like some kind of optical illusion or something.”
“I know, right? It's hot, hot, hot.” She snapped her fingers after each word for emphasis. Julia rolled her eyes. There was no cure for Cynthia's Fashion Awareness.
Julia considered herself fashion challenged. Yessiree. Irrefutably. Getting everything to match and be comfortable was of utmost importance.
Of course, once Julia mentioned the zebra shirt, Cyn was honor-bound to give her the once-over, scanning from the top of Julia's head and working her way down. Julia had almost escaped the wrath when Cynthia's gaze landed like a lead weight on her boots.
“Argh!” she shrieked in horror. “You wore your Tufs to school again! And don't give me any of that horseshit about how we're seniors and absolved of everything.” She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Fashion is the exception. And those”—she waggled her fingers at Julia's offending footwear—“are for… for…”
“Gardening,” Jason interjected smoothly, his arm sliding around Julia's waist. He'd heard the XtraTufs speech before.
“Don't you defend her, either!” Cynthia said.
Jason, all mock innocence said, “Who me?” his hand to his chest.
Cynthia's eyes narrowed to slits. “You're no help, Jason Caldwell. She could wear a shapeless sack over her whole body, and you'd still think she was gorgeous.”
“Guilty.” He pecked Julia's head, which was still fuzzy from the hat.
Julia leaned back against his chest, her head tucking comfortably underneath his chin, and sighed. This is where she'd wanted to be from the moment she opened her eyes—against him, soaking up his warmth, letting it seep into her bones and chase the coldness of the morning away.
Cyn snapped her fingers in front of Julia's face. “Snap out of it, Jules!”
Jason laughed. Julia was known to mentally wander. It had become an annoying theme lately.
“Cranky witch!” Julia teased, taking a swipe at Cyn with her woolen hat.
She ducked smoothly, accustomed to Julia's abuse. “Okay… so, did you finish that English paper we started on Friday?”
Julia dug around in her backpack until she found a crumpled piece of paper at the bottom. She turned and slapped it against her locker, smoothing it with her other hand. Jason's big hand was a warm presence on her shoulder, kneading it softly.
“Are you kidding? Terrell will never accept that mess,” Cynthia said, throwing out one hip and putting a hand on it.
Julia shrugged a shoulder. “It's a rough draft. Besides, keeping the standard low like I do ensures that I get gravy when I turn something in.”
Julia smiled at her own awesome logic. School just didn't appeal. It was something she would survive until she could graduate. Jason was the one who would go to University of Alaska Anchorage. He was set with a full ride.
Mr. Basketball. Julia turned to look at him and wondered for the millionth time why he'd want her. He was so gorgeous and she was so… her. It didn't matter that Cyn thought she was pretty. Cyn was her BFF, and that was what best friends did: cheerlead for each other.
Julia still didn't have a plan. She knew she couldn't wait to get out of Aunt Lily's place and begin a life with Jason.
Cynthia gave an elaborate roll of her eyes and caved in to Julia's reasoning. “You can try all your down-home, weasel-like charm on Terrell while Jason and I turn in real papers. Unwrinkled papers.” She cocked her brows up to her hairline.
Looping her arm through Julia's, Cyn dragged her to her first class, the dreaded Language Arts. Everyone knew there was nothing artful about it. Jason laughed as the three of them trudged to class, arms linked.
CHAPTER TWO
After Jason
Julia's chin touched her chest, lank strands of hair swirling around her face, her arms chained above her head. Her hands had lost feeling hours ago. A cloak of numbness stole over her, and her mind screamed. Her body aching for food.
But she'd be damned if she'd take it from her captors.
The Murderers.
The creature came to her, his teeth gleaming in the low light.
She looked at him, her eyelids at half-mast. Its piercing silvery irises bored into her. Julia felt the weight of their desire fill her mind, pressing without mercy against the fragility that was there.
Forcing his will.
“You must eat, Julia. You will eat,” he said in a fierce whisper.
“Why don't you… go… to… hell!” she rasped as loudly as she could. Weakened by lack of food, her voice held all the emotion that she couldn't release in a scream. The air had grown pregnant with contained frustration and violence—against her.
“Let me convince her,” the one named Pierce said, his stare covering her body like decaying liquid.
The leader, William, turned and stood in one fluid movement. “I have seen your methods with other Blood Singers. We will not use that here with this one.”
Pierce smirked. “You grow attached. She is a vehicle for our needs—nothing more. She is human.”
William took Pierce by his collar and pulled him until their faces nearly met. “She is much more than that. What if she is the one?
Look at the sign upon her head.” He shook Pierce in disgust and pushed him away. Pierce reared back and opened his mouth, and something burst from the flesh as he hissed his displeasure.
Fangs.
Julia swallowed. She felt as though she were in a nightmare she couldn't escape from. She protected herself by dwelling in her memory bank. It was full. In that space, Julia felt rich. The new reality couldn't intrude on her memories.
William and Pierce looked at her quickly. “She pulls away inside herself again! Fool! I almost had her!”
It was as if Julia could see through a glass, though darkly. Black water covered her vision, and the horrible creatures that had torn her away from a future of love and contentment, and toward one of terror and uncertainty, rushed at her. She let the water cover her consciousness.
The creatures were dim orbs of pale flesh as they sprinted to her side. She fell back into the well of her mind, the liquid forming a barrier between them and her memories.
For now, the memories won.
****
Senior Year, Springtime
Cyn bent her head over the textbook and then, looking up, scowled at Julia. “This is simple. You're overthinking the stuff.”
Julia was beyond frustrated. She'd flunked lame-ass Algebra II when she was a junior and, on the eve of graduation, was still struggling with the concepts. Cyn, at her elbow, ramming it down her throat, wasn't helping.
Julia glowered. “I don't get it! They put the alphabet in math, and now it's a big jumble of nothing!””
“How in the righteous world did you pass Algebra I?”
Julia gave her a sheepish look.
“You cribbed off of Jason? You're kidding me, right?”
“When am I gonna use this worthless crap?” Julia said, throwing her pencil down.
“You're not! That's not the point, Jules. The point is getting the grade. We're American. We're not supposed to be the intellectual global force. We just get the degree then go on to college and get that degree.” She shrugged.
Julia crossed her arms underneath her breasts. “You don't see what's wrong with that picture?”
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