Blood share.
He had done it. Even with the potential for scrambling the wires of his quarry, he had done it.
Now she stood—now she looked as if she might survive.
Even Susan could see beneath the dishevelment and scrawny physique to the healthy girl she had been. She would be well again, Susan vowed.
She had to be well again.
Julia was the Rare One. Susan's eyes flicked to the pale, moon-shaped scar on the girl's head.
She approached Julia and took her gently from William's arms, his hands trailing reluctantly from her body. Susan glanced at William and could sense the feral vestiges about him still.
“You'd do well to leave us for a time,” she said, and William nodded. Heaven knew he had to push his limits with her fresh blood a darkly blooming fragrance in the room, suffocating his reasoning, his directives.
William walked away, the pull of his blood in Julia's body beating in time with his heart. It felt like warm taffy swimming upstream. He moved to the door, and his hand landed on the doorknob.
*
Julia watched the vampire turn the knob, stiffen and quickly slip through.
The large woman breathed a sigh of relief when the vampire had left. Julia tried to pull away, but the woman gripped her upper arm, her fingers encircling the whole of it.
Julia glared at her. “Take your hands off me.”
The woman smiled. “Listen to me,” she began, her eyes boring into Julia's. “I am not like them. But you know that, don't you?”
Julia didn't answer. She was not going to cooperate with any of this.
“I am human,” the woman said.
“Yeah, whatever. You work for them. That's all the info I need.”
“Who do you think got soup down your throat? Bathed you? Put clothes on you?”
Julia looked at her in dawning horror. The woman had touched her when she was unconscious. Julia studied her closely. There was something almost familiar about her.
Memories assaulted her in a torrent. Being in a tub and floating. This woman washing her… ugh. Julia thought of the intimacy that entailed and wanted to throw up. She remembered the food that she'd been spoon-fed. She'd wanted to die.
She still did.
The woman looked at her and nodded. “You remember.”
“Yes,” Julia replied through clenched teeth.
“Not a very grateful sort, are you?”
Julia tore her thin arm free, her legs trembling. “I didn't ask for anyone to care for me,” she said in a fierce voice, the first, hot tears falling. “You should have let me die. That's all I want. I want to die.”
*
Susan was moved with compassion. This waif with such bottled-up emotion and aggression had lost too much. They would have to start from nothing with her.
Ground zero.
The older woman crossed her arms and stared at Julia, who glared back, raising a hand to move her tangled hair behind her ear.
“Well, my dear, you're not going to die—on the contrary. My job is to get you living and healthy for transport.”
Despite her commitment to be contrary, Julia heard herself ask, “Transport where?” Her lip quivered, on the brink of crying harder.
“Seattle. You were acquired by that coven.”
The girl's eyes lost their focus, and she began to fall. Susan screamed, “William!”
*
Suddenly, Julia was held in arms of warm steel. Her heart slowed, and her body calmed, its chemistry lulled by his closeness. Just before she crossed the threshold into unconsciousness, her mind told her what she feared most.
Blood share. Her body was a traitor to her mind.
Somehow, she was connected to her captor, whether she wanted to be or not.
Julia faded, the tailspin of knowledge following her down into the spiral of her dreams of earlier times.
CHAPTER FIVE
Consequence
Truman looked from one to the other of them and sighed. “Listen, kids.” He ripped a hand through his already disheveled hair. “I believe you tried to do the right thing, but Caldwell…” He spread his palms away from his body.
Jason dropped his eyes, his hands gripping Julia's. He hadn't meant to kill Terrell, but when he saw him shoot at Julia, something profound and primitive had kicked in. All he could think of was eliminating the threat.
Eliminating Terrell.
So he did. Terrell was going to kill her. A red veil had descended, clouding his vision, clouding his mind. It hadn't lifted until the cops had pulled him off Terrell.
Four cops.
At least they'd let him wash off—wash Terrell off him. He'd had blood splatter and gore wrist deep. His stomach churned a little with the memory.
Now he and Julia were in the police station, making noise about self-defense. The cop might look like a rumpled dishrag, but his eyes were sharp, like those of the majestic bald eagles that flew outside the windows. They tracked him, equal parts wise and aware, missing nothing.
“You're of age, son. It doesn't matter that you were still technically a student. We know you're over eighteen. Hell, you're almost nineteen, aren't you?” When Jason nodded, he continued. “So, is your girl here.” His gaze went to Julia, and Jason tensed.
*
The cop took in the kid's reaction—if he could be called a kid—wondering about his extreme protectiveness for his girlfriend. It struck him as noteworthy. Jason looked like a man, all height and muscle mass. A jock.
The girl was the opposite. She had a sullen and fiery cast to her, but she was a tiny thing, different coloring, all champagne and… those eyes. He repressed a shudder. They were spun gold, like a cat's eyes. They followed him with an intensity that was unsettling.
He cleared his throat. “As you know, the teacher was the one who brandished and fired a weapon. You may be able to get off with counseling. But your reaction wasn't typical, and there will be some accountability for that.”
Jason nodded, and Julia stifled a sigh.
Detective Truman asked, “Is there some reason Terrell would commit violence against you, Julia?”
Her face shows her confusion. She clearly didn't know why the teacher had targeted her. Truman would do some digging and see what was what, try to make sense of the senseless.
His eyes flicked to Jason. “Your parents have made your bail. And”— he waggled a finger—“I wouldn't skip town, pal.”
*
Jason almost laughed to think anyone would imagine he would skip town. Like I'd leave Julia.
Ever.
He squeezed her hand and she squeezed back. He stood to leave, pulling her with him.
His last thought as he left the building was that their elopement plans were screwed. With a grim face, he pulled Julia behind him, his parentsʼ car parked in front of the broad concrete steps of the precinct.
The storm on his dad's face told him what the next few days would be like. The barometric pressure was dropping.
It was a tense drive on the way to Julia's house. His parents were glancing back at them in the rear view mirror surreptitiously. Rather than worry about a lecture from his parents, he wanted to comfort Julia and forget that he'd almost been killed himself. He'd protected Julia… and maybe other kids. But it was all about image, and he had tarnished his and Julia's. He was so mad he could spit. It'd be so great once he and Julia were safely in Anchorage, married and beginning their life together. His parents could piss up a rope. He'd accomplished everything they wanted, and they needed to give him credit for that.
Julia interrupted his thoughts with a small noise, and he looked down at her, a small bundle in the cradle of his arms. He was instantly alarmed and felt a delayed shock from the events of the last few hours.
Great timing. They were just pulling up to her front door, her Aunt Lily waiting on the top step, wrapping a thin cardigan around herself, her hands fisting the material in a death-clench. She skipped down the stairs, making a war path for their car.
Before Jason could properly shield Julia, Lily had torn open the door, putting her hands on Julia.
“Don't, Lily,” Jason said, meeting her tense and angry eyes.
“You don't tell me what to do. I almost lost my niece today. The one that you were taking care of.” She said that last like an accusation, and it made Jason's heart clench. He had taken care of her the best he could. He didn't need this right now.
Julia didn't need it.
He looked down at Julia. Her skin was clammy and pale, her breathing rapid.
“What's wrong with her?” Lily asked in a panic.
“She's in shock,” Harold Caldwell said.
Jason sighed. “Please move. I'll carry her into the house and get her in a lying-down position.”
Fortunately, she backed away, and Jason unfolded his body outside the car, swiveling Julia as he went, swinging her up into his arms.
“Jason,” she said, her eyes fluttering open and widening. “They're coming… the wolves and… the blood… blood…”
“What is she saying?” Shelia Caldwell asked.
Jason shook his head, puzzled. “I don't think it's anything. She's in shock. Getting her lying down is key here, Mom.” Jason's eyes left the loose group of adults, and he strode to the house, toeing open the unlatched front door. He picked the first sofa he saw and brought a still and pale Julia to it, laying her down gently. He swiped a hair from her forehead and kissed it. She felt cool. He wasn't leaving until she was okay. She is far from okay.
“Stay away from here, Jason,” Lily yelled, huffing into the room.
“I don't think this is helping things,” his mom said, her hands fluttering helplessly in front of her.
Lily gave her a withering look of such contempt that his mom took a step back. “Don't tell me what is helpful or what is not. What would you even know about suffering, challenges, anything?”
Shelia had a helpless expression on her face.
Lily nodded. “That's what I thought. Go home to your fancy house and your comforts, and leave me and my niece alone.”
*
Harold Caldwell looked down his nose at Lily Wade. She was beneath him. He had suffered the relationship between Julia and Jason, knowing it was a high school sweetheart thing. Jason would see that Julia was all wrong for him and dump her when he was attending college. But this incident with the teacher might prove to be the perfect break for the relationship.
It put Harold in good spirits. Magnanimous spirits.
“We understand, Lily. Of course we'll leave you in peace to comfort Julia.” He smiled the first genuine smile of the day since hearing the wretched and humiliating news of his son's involvement in the shooting. He began to back out of the house when he caught sight of Jason moving back toward the couch. He pursed his lips into a thin line.
“Jason,” he commanded in a low tone.
Jason didn't even turn. “What?” His eyes were fixed on Julia's pale face. Julia's lips were tinged blue.
“Let's go.”
“No,” Jason said, looking up at his father.
*
Lily's head snapped up. "Your family has some nerve. How dare you try to bulldoze your way into my home?" She picked up the nearest phone, her finger hovering above the number nine. “Don't make me call the police,” she threatened Jason in a low voice.
Jason couldn't believe what was happening. The hell with this! He walked right back over to the couch and scooped Julia up in his arms, her soft moaning twisting something inside his chest.
“Put her down, Jason!” his dad yelled. Their eyes met again.
“No. I don't give two shits and an eff what you guys do. I'm an adult and everyone needs to back right the hell off.”
He'd never talked to his dad that way. It was long-past due.
Lily stabbed the numbers in the phone and Shelia tore it out of her hand and jammed it into the receiver. “Please,” her voice trembled, “let's discuss this.”
Lily looked at them as if they'd gone insane.
Harold planted his hands on his hips and stared at Jason. “Listen here, Jason. I posted your bail. I am responsible for you until that hearing. You'll be found innocent, but until then, don't jeopardize this with your he-man stunts. Leave that girl where she belongs. Now.”
A loud ticking from the clock on the wall reverberated around the room, the moment swelling unbearably around them, the tension a living breathing thing.
Jason wanted to scream so badly his eyes burned with unshed tears. He turned away from them, blinking fiercely, feeling as if he were betraying her.
Betraying Julia.
He laid her back down on the couch. Her eyelashes were like soot against chalky cheeks. He wrapped her up against him one more time and then, saying nothing, he stalked out of the house, shouldering past his dad and almost knocking him over.
Jason looked up as the cold air struck his bare arms. The clouds were roiling above him, the look of their charcoal anger exactly matching his.
CHAPTER SIX
Existing
If Julia was honest with herself, she had to admit that Susan was a saint. But she was not there to make friends. Every day she thought of how she could get away. Each day she wanted away from William and, to a lesser degree, Pierce.
At least she finally had answers. William was deliriously complacent with her presence here. He thought he had it under control. Well, he had another thing coming. Julia was waiting for the best opportunity she could find to leave permanently.
William had expounded on her importance, making her desire to leave even more acute. He said that Blood Singers were rare. They were critically needed in the human population. The vampires looked at the humans like cattle. Blood Singers were just a fraction of the human population—one-tenth of one percent, to be exact.
Julia had listened to his speech silently. William and Pierce were “runners.” Their express purpose was the acquisition of Blood Singers. The Blood Singers balanced the vampiresʼ “food load.” The quality of their blood made the vampire population able to sustain its existence on the ordinary human population's blood
Whatever, Julia thought, remembering his words.
*
“So, you see how essential you are?” William had tried to appeal to her sense of importance when he'd first spoken to her about Blood Singers. He spread his palms out on either side of his body, his coal-black hair shimmering with blue in the subdued glow of the dining hall. His silver eyes bored into hers. A sudden memory of those eyes shifting to a red so deep it was nearly black, as he'd almost struck her flesh, caused her heart to speed up. She rode it out. He could probably hear her blood course through her veins. That was the last thing she needed. Julia would never be able to help herself if he was anticipating all her moves, especially as weakened as she'd become.
“Why take me? It sounds like you need us out in the populace,” she restated, genuinely puzzled.
“We're reconnaissance. We seek the Rare Ones.”
“Okay.” Julia threw up her hands, her soup forgotten. William frowned when she pushed the bowl away. “I give up. Who are the Rare Ones?”
William stared at her, and she held his gaze. “You are a Rare One, Julia.”
She shrugged. So? She wasn't sure how that differed from what he had already told her. As far as she could tell, the Blood Singers of the human race were the purebred cattle of homo sapiens.
Wonderful.
He took in her expression. “Maybe you have not asked the right question. It is quite simple, actually.”
Julia thought about it. It slowly came to her. “Why do you have that name for us—Blood Singers?”
He smiled at her as if she were a prized pupil, and he looked achingly human for that one moment. Then his face fell into the handsome but otherworldly lines she was becoming accustomed to. “Do you not feel it?” He placed his fist to his chest, where his heart would beat.
Or would it?
They stared at each other, and
Julia felt a pull to him. She fought the pull. It was like ignoring one voice amongst many. She tried to think in those terms, tuning out that one strand so that it seemed like a distant bell. She silenced it with an effort.
His hand slowly fell from his breastbone. “That is the call of the blood. I have shared mine with you. It now calls to yours.”
“Why?” Julia asked, deeply creeped out.
“Because I have shared blood with you.”
“No, you forced your blood inside of me!” She raised her voice at him, crossing her arms as heat seeped across her cheekbones.
William's eyes narrowed. “True. So that you might live, I gave you my blood. I have Blood Singer ancestry.” Julia cocked an eyebrow. The conversation was becoming more confusing by the moment. What he said next made her forget her curiosity suddenly, as if she'd fallen off a precipice. “How do you think we found you? Found… Jason?”
His name fell like a stone in the room, the horrible memory threatening the edges of her consciousness. She shut her eyes tight against the images assaulting her.
William continued as if the oxygen had not been forcibly torn from the room. Julia felt as though an elephant had sat on her lungs. “Your blood calls to us. It sings to us. We follow it like a melody on the wind. All roads lead to the Blood Singer.”
Julia opened her eyes. A startling revelation was blossoming in her mind. “Jason was… he was a Blood Singer?” she asked in a breathless whisper.
William nodded.
Julia jumped off the bench and flung herself at William, beating against him with her fists. Her hair flailed wildly about her. It felt like beating a brick wall—stony and cold. “You killed him! You had no right!” she wailed. “You killed him.” She sobbed as he grabbed her wrists. “Why didn't you kill me instead?” Julia asked in a sorrowful moan as she sagged against him, fainting from exhaustion.
*
William had carried Julia up in his arms, the burden of her weight no more than a feather. His pain at watching hers was unmatched by anything he had ever known.
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