Blood Reaction Saga (Book 2): Blood Distraction

by Atha, DL

  Inside, smoke hung like a veil from ceiling to floor. It parted, resealing behind me as I pushed myself through the thin barrier. The place was packed, the room crowded with clusters of people gathered at the bar, which ran nearly the entire length of the far wall. Other groups, louder than those hanging around the bar, were gathered around the pool tables towards the south of the building. Between the bar and the pool tables was a dance floor. You couldn’t have forced a hand between most of the dancers. The ceiling of the bar was dropped, adding to the secretive, guarded feel that made the bar known for its “anything‐goes” reputation.

  The combined scents of the sweaty bodies, smoke and alcohol made me dizzy, and I felt drunk on the heartbeats and the pheromones that floated in the smoky haze. My imagination ran wild, and my mood became more erratic. I could feel myself losing it. I paused and thought about leaving but decided I’d rather “lose it” here than back at my home. I stepped farther into the building determined to find a cure to my crazy.

  Someone knocked into me as they passed, and I harshly pushed them back. Another drunk tried to slip an arm around my waist, flashing me a big smile as he did so. I smiled back, my teeth bared, eager for the human contact. Maybe my smile was too big or too desperate, either way he went absent into the crowd. I started to follow, but then got distracted by a girl standing a few feet away. She smiled invitingly, and I started towards her.

  Asa had disappeared when I’d made the decision to come here. I’d rushed through the forest alone—just me and the animals. But now he was back, and as I pushed myself through the pockets of people talking and playing pool, I caught glimpses of him on the other side of the building, and then unexpectedly, he appeared beside me, pointing to different humans that he thought would make good targets. He didn’t say much, or maybe it was just the din of the crowd that overpowered the voice of his apparition. But he watched me; I could feel his eyes on me. I frowned at the woman and pushed farther through the crowd as I tried to outrun his following gaze, but it was impossible. Asa was a vampire; he could trail me anywhere. Maybe I’d been wrong about him. Maybe he was very much undead and alive. I decided I should get out of here. I started towards the door but then remembered again I couldn’t go home without blood.

  The music from the band on the small corner stage howled in my ears. The smell of blood hung in every corner, around every human that walked past me. I struggled to keep my hands to my sides, my fangs hidden. There were too many. Too much blood. I couldn’t think, but I could hear Asa from across the room. “Kill them,” he urged. “There’s plenty to go around.”

  I was whispering to myself to ignore Asa. “He’s not here,” I kept repeating to myself, my index fingers burrowing into my ears to drown out the sound of his voice. Over my shoulder, I shot him another threatening glare when I stumbled into a man, knocking him off‐step and into the bar behind him.

  “You all right?” the man asked. He’d stopped his fall with one unsteady hand and pushed himself back upright.

  I looked at him blankly. Was it a rhetorical question? I wondered. But he appeared serious.

  “Hell, no. I’m not all right,” I answered back. “Are you blind?” “Nope. Just drunk. But sometimes if you get drunk enough, it slows everything down, and I can actually see more. And you, my dear, act like somebody’s chasing you,” he said, knocking the drink in his hand back. The empty glass disappeared from the bar behind him as quickly as he set it down. “Somebody is,” I answered. “I think.”

  “I’ll protect you,” he said. I looked at him doubtfully. Late thirties I guessed as I stared into what had been, at one time, a handsome face. Now it was aged by years of alcohol. Still, he smiled a friendly smile that brightened even more with handsome dimples. I bet he was a heart breaker when he was younger. And healthier.

  Something about him didn’t smell quite right, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. It was like breathing in a beautiful aroma of bread and then detecting an aftertaste before you even tasted it. His bloodstream had to be nearly pure ethanol, and he was unsteady on his feet. He reached for my arm, and I let him keep his sweaty palm on my skin.

  “What’s a pretty thing like you doing here?” he asked, bringing my attention back to our conversation.

  “I’m hungry.” It was a simple statement, but it was true. The crowd was dense and kept him from sensing just how hungry I was. Or maybe it was the alcohol. Probably both, I decided. Over the man’s shoulder, Asa was eyeing me from the back wall.

  “The food stinks here, but the drinks are good,” he said, lifting another glass in mock salute.

  “You’re not kidding. Everyone in here smells wonderful.”

  The man looked at me oddly. “Well, I guess the people here are okay, but I was talking about the drinks.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I was too.”

  “Oh, I thought you were talking about the people smelling good.”

  Was this a riddle? I knew I should understand, but I couldn’t quite wrap my head around it. “The people smell good. I want to drink them,” I answered.

  “Sweetheart, I believe you’re as drunk as me,” he said.

  At that, I laughed a little, that crazy hysterical laugh that would frighten most people. He was unfazed.

  “I have had absolutely nothing to drink. And I’m so thirsty,” I added.

  “Then you’ve came to the right place. Let me buy you something. What’ll it be?”

  “You,” I said. He seemed an easy target. I ran one hand down his free arm. Gooseflesh, and not the bad kind, bunched up under my fingertips.

  “Hey, whoa girl. I don’t even have to pretend to get to know you? What does a pretty thing like you want with an old man like me anyway?” he asked.

  “I don’t care if you know me or not, and the only thing that matters is that you walk away from this deal still breathing.”

  “Come again?” he questioned as he took another swig of his glass.

  Either he hadn’t understood or he didn’t care to. Maybe both. Maybe the liquor was making him brave. Whatever the reason, he didn’t have the natural fear of me that Mom and the detective had.

  Asa had materialized beside me. “Remember, I told you that crowds make it easier to blend in. Humans will not notice you as quickly, and the spirits he has consumed are beneficial as well. Even still, try to appear more relaxed. You seem every part the deranged killer.”

  Across the room where Asa had been standing was now just a small flock of people. I watched them briefly as they played with their phones and talked, no idea a killer was in their midst. But beside me, a woman was staring at me with narrowed eyes. I was starting to draw attention.

  “I don’t want to hurt him,” I said to Asa. “Annalice, you are much too far gone for that to be your prime concern. At this point, he is undeniably a dead man. Just try not to get caught.”

  “Okay. Who are you talking to?” the drunk human asked, looking around to see if he’d missed a hidden boyfriend or a drinking buddy.

  Asa smiled beside me. “Buy him another drink. Get him out of the building.”

  “No worries,” I said, redirecting the human’s attention back towards me. “I drink alone. He’s just here to gloat.”

  “Who’s here to gloat?” the man asked again. His expression was starting to turn concerned.

  “I don’t think he’s real, but it’s getting hard to tell.”

  “Well if it helps, I don’t see anyone,” the man answered before he drained his glass. Holding his hand up, he signaled the barkeep for another.

  “Bring two,” I signed to the bartender. I’d been reduced to taking Asa’s psychotic advice.

  The bartender nodded at me as he pulled a young woman’s cash off the bar. I smiled by way of thanks and turned back to the human I was stalking. “Then for now, I guess he’s not real. All the better because you wouldn’t have liked what he was saying about you,” I answered.

  “Whatever you say, babe.” The man smiled pleasantly, warmed by the fires o
f whiskey.

  Asa shifted his position beside me and leaned his long body up against the bar. He was as tall, dark and as handsome as I remembered. I rubbed my eyes. Maybe I hadn’t killed him. Or maybe I’d staked him but he’d regenerated. Was that why his grave was empty? Asa nodded towards the door. “Ask him if he can see Detective Rumsfield over there?” I followed the direction of his inclined head to see the detective squeezing himself through a group of giggly girls in the doorway.

  “Crap. How does he do that?” I hissed.

  “Girl, what are you talking about now?” the man asked, putting the first drink I’d bought down.

  “What’s your name?” I pushed the second drink towards him. He drank the whiskey quickly, not swallowing until he’d downed the entire double shot. I could see some fleeting thoughts cross his mind. Did he really want to give me his name? Something was definitely wrong with me. I smiled, took a deep breath to highlight my anatomy, and licked my lower lip in anticipation.

  “Jonas,” he answered in a quiet voice that was completely out of context to the spike in his heart rate and the quickening in his jeans. I had him. It didn’t matter what I said next. My body had done all of the talking for me.

  “Jonas, here’s the deal. I’m a wanted girl. See that man over there wearing the leather jacket and blue jeans with the cowboy hat on?” I pointed to where Rumsfield watched me. He was always watching me.

  Self‐doubt crossed Jonas’ face at the thought of competition, and he hesitated for half a breath before he turned away, leaning back against the counter, lifting his chin to scan the room. He was grinning at his good luck when he faced me again. “Girl, every man in here has on a leather jacket, but not a one of them is wearing a cowboy hat.”

  I looked over his shoulder at Rumsfield again. He was talking to a bouncer and pointing in my direction. “He’s right there. Just like the devil in a country song,” I said, pointing to the detective.

  The human searched the room again to further convince me but shook his head with a definite no. I glanced back, and sure enough, Rumsfield was gone. Another hallucination, I guessed. Through the smoke that covered every person’s head like a halo, I searched the entire building, looking for the telltale hat. But this time, I couldn’t find him in the crowd. Maybe Rumsfield was here and maybe he wasn’t. I couldn’t be sure.

  “He’s a tricky son of a bitch,” I said. “I honestly don’t know if what I’m seeing is real or not.”

  “Somebody gave you some bad shit tonight,” Jonas answered. He, of course, meant drugs.

  “Bad shit is definitely one way to describe it.” I smiled back at him. “What I need is fresh air, and for the two of us to be alone. I think you’re going to be able to clear my head.”

  “I’ll clear whatever you want me to, babe. Bad memories, bad shit. The sheets off a bed. It doesn’t matter,” he said.

  I lifted the shot glass from his hand, tossed a twenty on the counter, and pulled him towards the front door. He put up no resistance at all. My luck was looking up. Leaned against the bar, Asa smiled at me, baring his fangs as he did so. I pulled the human a little faster.

  “So what are you wanted for, or is that all part of the drug haze paranoia?” Jonas asked as we squeezed through the crowd. The bar had picked up, and the bouncers were having a hard time keeping an eye on the people coming in and going out. New customers were sneaking in under the guise of having just come out to get fresh air. Two men blocked our way as I was trying to guide Jonas out the door.

  A couple of “excuse me”s didn’t extradite them, so I shoved them roughly out of the way. They both turned, hot angry words on their lips as their drinks spilt in their hands, but one look at my desperate eyes and clenched teeth made them retreat wordlessly back into the crowd.

  “Hey,” Jonas said again. “What are you wanted for?” The first bit of fear had crept into his voice. Frowning at the way I’d pushed the men, he watched them walk away as he lagged back a bit.

  “Nothing serious,” I answered, jerking him slightly to catch back up with me. “Minor possession.”

  “Been there,” he answered as we walked out the door and down the steps, placated once more into believing that I was simply a small‐time drug user.

  Outside the bar, the parking lot was a maze of cars and bikes attempting to either pull in and join the melee or escape it. I, for one, was very glad to be escaping it without having killed someone in plain sight. Several small fights had broken out while I’d worked to secure Jonas. Nothing major, but enough to bring the heaviest of the bouncers through the room in a show of strength. He’d easily subdued a couple of rowdy drunks fighting over a woman who’d been toying with the both of them the way a cat bats at a ball of string. I’d seen the bouncer circle his pointer finger over his head in the sign language meaning “call the police ’cause somebody’s about to get their butt kicked.” Two pool tables over, a woman had swung at a man, and he, in the process of trying to be nice, had taken his very own ass whooping. And some people say bikers can’t be gentlemen.

  The cops were parking as I pulled Jonas farther into the parking lot, zig‐zagging him between cars. “You lost your car?” he asked. “What’s it look like?”

  “I didn’t drive,” I said, still pulling him forward.

  “You walked here?” He was shocked, since the bar was on the outskirts of town. The nearest residential area was a good ten blocks away.

  “A friend dropped me off,” I lied smoothly. “Let’s go down by the river.” I was careful to keep my back to him. No reason to terrify him so early in our game.

  “Why?” he questioned but still not getting overly suspicious. “Don’t you like it by the water? Think about it. The river and the fog. The misting rain on our skin.”

  “The bugs. The snakes. The snapping turtles,” he answered back.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you,” I whispered. I stroked the inside of his wrist with the hand I wasn’t using to pull him farther towards the back of the parking lot.

  “You’re a freak,” he said, but he kept following. “But I like ’em that way.”

  I couldn’t keep from laughing. “Well, it’s your lucky day.”

  The Arkansas River snaked through the darkness on its constant mission to meet up with the Mississippi. There, at that juncture deep in the Delta, the river was fat and lazy. But here, as it poured between the mountains, the river was cantankerous and dangerous, with hidden currents and undertows that took many swimmers to their death.

  Despite its dangers, the Arkansas was no more lovely than in the dark hours of night when the gray‐black eddies were silvered by the moonlight as the river coursed along rich bottom land to slice through inky Arkansas forests. My ex‐husband and I had spent a few nights peering nervously into those forests when we’d first moved here. We’d tried to take up the night fishing that is so popular. We’d failed miserably, and while I’d never understood why anyone would want to fish at three a.m., I’d easily appreciated the natural beauty of the river.

  Tonight, the lights of Fort Smith glittered on the turbulent waters. At the other end of the railway bridge, the Van Buren lights looked so much homier. Maybe because that’s the way I planned to escape when this was all over. After I’d showered this human with my very powerful saliva and had my way with him—my way being to drain him of a couple of pints.

  He was still holding onto my hand as we reached the rocky shore of the river, and as he tried to stop, I pulled him a little farther until we were standing on the wide portion of a sand bar jutting into the water like the broad end of a hatchet.

  I could feel his nerves starting to build up as I turned to face him. He looked back towards the bar and lights from the club. Asa was right. The alcohol had numbed his senses, and he still didn’t recognize me for what I was. This fear he was feeling was no more than a human fear, afraid of the dark and being out of his element. Not able to see well in the night and unaccustomed to the silence of being alone.

  “We�
��re not far at all,” I answered his fears, wanting to reassure him. “I can still hear the music. The band’s playing Skynard.” Not a lie, but I certainly didn’t add that it was vampire hearing that gave me such an edge.

  “I can’t hear anything,” the human said, glancing nervously back at the bar once more. He’d told me his name, but I couldn’t remember it.

  “I can hear the sound of your heart,” I said. The words slipped out before I even realized my mouth had opened, and I couldn’t hide my lust for him. It crept up like a riptide and pulled me under. I stepped closer, my hand sliding farther up his arm. His muscles stiffed and his skin turned cold and pimply.

  My words got his attention. They were more effective than a cup of hot coffee or flashing blue lights in bringing him to a semblance of sobriety. His eyes widened as I leaned into him and inhaled deeply. Our eyes met fully for the first time that night, and I watched as the irrational fear of my presence finally eclipsed the alcohol and his logic.

  In the mere span of two seconds, his heart was off and racing—irregular and much too fast. Atrial fibrillation. I’d treated it a thousand times but had never appreciated how odd it truly sounded. He was taching at nearly one hundred eighty beats per minute. The man’s expression became nothing more than a mask except a funny named muscle, the orbicularis oculi, twitching in the corner of his right eye. I studied the muscle closely and listened to his heart.

  I could smell the sharp scent of fear and adrenaline, and the combination of the two set my lungs ablaze. His fear smelled the way it should, but it was heavily tinged with something that I knew I should recognize yet I couldn’t name. I was too hungry, and I didn’t care that he didn’t smell exactly right. But my brain kept whispering to me to think harder. I batted the ideas away. I didn’t want to think. I wanted to drink and to kill, and this man was going to have to suffice. Still, I hoped he wouldn’t die. I hoped I was strong enough.