Bloodstone

by Sydney Bristow

  “Was she armed?” asked the reporter, still off screen.

  “No, no, no. Not armed. But she was fast. I mean, real fast. Like the Road-Runner, that type of fast. Ran past me, got into storage and was gone with five pints quicker than we’ve been talking.”

  “Did she harm you or anyone in the vicinity?” asked the reporter.

  “She just asked where to find the blood. And that’s how she said it too: ‘where’s the blood?’ I was like, ‘Huh?’ And she goes, ‘Please tell me where to find the blood.’ Lady had some manners. Educated, you could tell. So anyway, she looks in my eyes and man, it was like bam! Those magnetic eyes, you know, almost overpowering, hypnotizing even.” A slow grin came over his face as a dreamy, faraway look grabbed hold of him for a moment. Upon hearing the reporter clear his throat, Hicks said, “But yeah, the woman didn’t carry anything but a bag to put the pints into. It’s strange, right? People give blood here, not steal it.”

  “Unbelievable!” I said, hitting pause again. “Did you get a concussion? Is that why you went out trying to steal blood?”

  “I can’t exactly go to the grocery store and crack open a can of blood, now can I?” Kendall asked.

  “No,” I admitted, “but you could—”

  “What?” She turned to Brandon. “What could I have done?”

  I didn’t know how to respond, since we hadn’t encountered an issue like this before. With Kendall’s glare burrowing an imaginary hole in my cheek, I hit play to see how the rest of this played out.

  Grainy black and white footage appeared on the screen, showing Hicks behind a counter opposite a woman wearing a ski mask with a blond ponytail stretching down to her shoulders. She wore a solid black sweatshirt and sweatpants with white tennis shoes. A second later, there was a blur onscreen, as the woman swung around and behind Hicks. The manager looked on either side of him and spun around, as though prepared to confront an adversary, only to have a gust of wind blow across his frame, spinning him around.

  Now the camera focused on an attractive reporter in his late twenties wearing a navy blue suit with an expensive haircut holding a microphone. “A similar recording was obtained from an American Red Cross center displaying an identical attack. The Chicago Police Department is looking into these thefts, but as of now, they have no suspects. This doesn’t seem to be a coordinated attack, although this individual seemed intent on visiting as many blood centers as possible in the least amount of time…Mark?”

  The camera returned to the blond anchor in the studio, revealing a man with feathered hair, wearing glasses and an arrogant smirk. “Thanks Joseph. In what appears to be a potentially related incident, two unidentified women in Wicker Park were assaulted by a pair of men who…” – the reporter paused for effect – “bit them on the neck.” He turned to his female colleague. “We do, in fact, have a full moon tonight, but it makes me wonder if vampires have sprung loose in the city.”

  His fellow anchor permitted a smile. “Ah, that would be werewolf, Mark! Only werewolves come out during the full moon, or so legend has it.” She chuckled and her colleague joined her.

  I swung my attention to Kendall, furious that she’d jeopardized her existence. “That’s what you did today?”

  She pulled out her hands on either side of her, as though surrendering to common sense. “I was thirsty.”

  “You went out during the day?” Brandon asked. “That’s why you wore all black?”

  “Well, duh! I exposed my skin to the sun and my arm burned. No…worse than that, it sizzled. Like I had placed my forearm on a burning grill.”

  “But then your body healed itself,” I said.

  “No, there’s a big difference. They might get cancer over years and years of abuse. But me? I’ll burn in minutes…and die! So, no, it’s not the same thing. But yes, I grabbed some clothes Nolan lent me, since I no longer have a home…or clothes…or anything. Brandon and I have nothing, Serena. Nothing! We’re dependent on you. And for the record, I don’t like the feeling.”

  My family turmoil, interrupted by demon and vampire attacks, made it difficult for me to see beyond the immediate threats facing us. I hadn’t taken time to acknowledge that my best friend had changed, upending her entire existence. I expected her to handle the change like I had, once I’d learned about my abilities, only I was still human. The only difference was that I had three supernatural gifts. Kendall had died and returned without the ability to stand in the sun or eat a cheeseburger or age, not to mention many other changes.

  In short, I was a horrible friend. I should have spoken with Kendall about this massive change to see how I could help her through it. Instead, I’d all but abandoned her. Could any friend have been more useless and inconsiderate? “I’m sorry,” I said, “it’s just—”

  “Yes,” Kendall continued. “I robbed blood banks of thirty-eight pints.”

  Now on firmer footing, I turned to the issue at hand. “Did you have to steal from one after another? Why not hit them a few days apart? So it’s not conspicuous?”

  “You’re serious?” she asked, turning to Brandon. “She’s serious!” A chuckle erupted from her mouth. “So I could establish a pattern? People would get suspicious. They’d start expecting me. Every blood bank probably has a video feed. Besides, there are video cameras across the city. What am I supposed to do?”

  “So you decided to hit five blood centers in a row?” I asked.

  “Don’t get mad at me. I have needs!”

  She meant that she couldn’t feed on humans, lest she have difficulty stopping before draining any given person of their life, similar to her near inability to stop feeding on the woman who had visited a short time ago. I couldn’t condemn Kendall because she’d become a vampire against her will. Even without stating as much, she blamed me for her fate, and I couldn’t disparage her for the sentiment. Without my existence, she would still be human. For that reason, I couldn’t be too hard on her. After all, she had no one to teach her about vampirism.

  “But thirty-eight pints?” Brandon asked. “Where are they?”

  “Some are in my belly,” Kendall said with an immediate grin. “Most are in the freezer. The rest are in the fridge. I’ve tried warm blood, but it’s only good when it’s from concentrate.”

  “This isn’t orange juice!” I shouted. “It’s serious shit we’re dealing with.”

  “You mean I’m dealing with?” Kendall asked, refusing to back down. “I’m the vampire, not you. My place got blown up, not yours. You might have some supernatural powers, but for the most part, you’re still human. Sooo not the case with me! For Gods-sake, Serena, if I don’t drink blood, I’ll die!”

  Thankfully, this was the first media-related report of supernatural occurrences. I attributed this to a number of factors. Each time a paranormal creature had appeared, they had done so late at night in a secluded area. Those I’d dispatched immediately turned to dust, leaving no evidence of their existence behind. Some of the creatures might not even know they had supernatural abilities, so they hadn’t used those qualities. Zephora didn’t want them to reveal themselves, probably wanting to wait until she’d decimated enough humans before moving forward with her plans in a public way in order to frighten the populace. And finally, when our band had been attacked while playing on stage, the crowds we’d played for suspected we’d slayed imaginary monsters that were nothing more than special effects to enhance our stage show.

  Nevertheless, Kendall’s ordeal really put things into perspective for me. How could I blame her for doing whatever was necessary to stay alive? “I’m sorry. I don’t know how to deal with…any of this.” Not hearing Kendall or Brandon respond, I looked up to find them staring at me, shocked. In that instant, I knew why they couldn’t get a grip. They expected me to lead them the same way I did with our band. My ancestors were the ones who had set paranormal creatures into our world. I needed to take responsibility for their misdeeds, which meant, although unsure how to deal with this threat, I had to pretend that I
knew how to deal with the paranormal issues confronting us. Otherwise, they might fear for their lives and abandon me.

  CHAPTER SIX

  The next day, after helping Kendall and Brandon remove whatever they could salvage from their apartment and transport it to a couple storage units, I set up our equipment at the Home Bar and worked out the details to perform and record at the Arcada, while the rest of the band handled their own assignments to ensure our gig today went off without a hitch. Due to the smaller size of the Home Bar, we wouldn’t have a chance to rehearse at the venue, since it acted as an actual bar.

  With a couple hours to kill before our show tonight, I decided to visit Celestina. Since Alexis worked between late morning and early evening, and Zephora was probably still recovering from withdrawal by sleeping off the shakes, I was curious to find out when Celestina anticipated Zephora might return to full strength and if she’d attack me at that time. The ancient sorceress said she had plans for me, and I wanted to find out if she had shared that information with my niece.

  I wouldn’t have attempted to visit Celestina’s home under any other circumstance, but I suspected that Zephora wouldn’t dare attack me in front of Celestina. I was all but certain the sorceress wanted to procure my niece’s loyalty, and she couldn’t get it if she killed me in front of Celestina. At least I hoped so…

  I stepped up to the front door and knocked on it.

  When the door opened, Alexis stood in the threshold and leaned against the wood panel with a smirk. “Hey, it’s Little Miss University. I was expecting you.”

  “Yeah?” I asked, my head whipping back in surprise upon seeing her. I wiped the perspiration from my palms onto my jeans. “Why is that?” Obviously, I hadn’t expected her to answer without any sign of Celestina in the vicinity.

  “Zephora told me you visited us last night.” Alexis’s smile widened as she shook her head and lowered her gaze. She wouldn’t have removed her gaze from mine if she regarded me as an unworthy opponent. “I told you how I feel about you invading our home without my knowledge.”

  “I wasn’t visiting to spy on you. I dropped by to see Zephora.”

  “Concerned for her health?” She looked up at me again. “She’s fine. Better than fine, actually. I’m betting she’ll be full-strength in a couple more days.”

  “So, you’ve gone full-on evil, huh?”

  “Don’t go that far, little sis. It’s not like she’s the devil or anything.”

  “She wants to end humanity! Is that evil enough for you?”

  Alexis hissed. “Are you really so clueless that you see darkness in every corner?”

  “Are you so dense that you believe every witch has good intentions?” Seeing her smile brighten, I felt my heart turn cold at the idea of having once considered her a trustworthy ally. “Zephora is evil. She practically hangs with Satan. She’s—”

  “Oh, really?” Alexis said, turning around and leaving the door open for me to enter as she headed toward the kitchen.

  I stepped into the house and scanned the premises for Zephora, but I didn’t see her anywhere. “I’m glad to see you’ve finally given up hoping Delphine was still alive, but…I’m shocked you aren’t bothered that she passed and Zephora took her place.”

  Alexis removed a bottle of caramel flavored vodka from the fridge, undid the cap, put the lid to her mouth, and closed her eyes as though she expected ecstasy to follow as she took a long pull on it. She sighed and a smile formed as she licked her lips. Her eyes snapped open, as though the liquor provided her with a second wind. “How did you find out? By dabbling in black magic? Again?” She chuckled. “Face it, little sis. That’s the only way you can get any power. Otherwise, you’re pretty much useless.”

  “You’re more powerful than me because you were born, what, a minute or two before me? How does it feel, knowing that whatever power you have is based on luck?”

  “Oh,” she said, grinning as she held out an index finger to contradict my statement. “It’s not luck. I wanted it more. That’s why I came first.”

  “And who told you that? Zephora?” I snickered as anger bubbled under the surface. “Was she in the delivery room? Was she coaching Delphine? Was she manipulating things so you’d come out first and be more powerful than me because you’re more likely to hang out with the devil?”

  “Who cares? What matters is that she’s here now.”

  “And why is that? Have you asked her?”

  “You keep alluding to Satan—”

  “No,” I said. “I haven’t alluded to him. I’ve stated it very clearly. If you’re going to hang out with Zephora, you’re throwing in with Lucifer. There’s no gray area there. It’s black or white, and it seems you’re okay with taking orders from Satan.”

  She chuckled and took a swig from her bottle. “You should lay off listening to so much devil music. It’s warping your mind.”

  I couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth, but if I gave any indication that what she said disturbed me, she’d take it as a victory. “I have it on good knowledge that Zephora is a pawn of Lucifer. A demon told me—”

  “A demon?” Alexis asked and laughed. “A demon? Is that who you’re buddies with now?” She walked past me, took another gulp of liquor, and made her way into the living room. She grabbed a remote control and began channel surfing, unable to select a show that satisfied her.

  I looked in the opposite direction, trying to determine through intuition if Zephora inhabited one of the bedrooms, but I couldn’t detect an otherworldly phenomenon pulling me in that direction. Where else would she be? Hanging out with a local club of devil worshippers? Better yet, trying to convert disaffected individuals at senior citizen complexes to give Satan a chance? While I presumed she’d taken up residence here, I knew that if I started snooping around, Alexis would race over and prevent me from doing so.

  I imagined Zephora standing behind a bedroom door with her arms across her chest, trying to evade the chills racking her body while pressing an ear close to the door to hear every word we said. Just the idea of her so close riddled me with frustration, but unless I wanted to take on both her and Alexis at the same time, I needed to reign in my curiosity and focus on my sister.

  “So,” said Alexis standing beside the sofa but keeping her eyes on mine. “You’re hanging with demons now to learn more about what you’re getting into?”

  I couldn’t believe she actually thought I had an interest in demonology. Her misinterpretation had me even more determined to inform her that she’d unknowingly sided with the devil. “No, the demon came to my house to kill me.”

  “He just knocked on your door and was like ‘Hi there, I’m the local demon, and I was hoping to stab Serena to death. Is she around, or should I come back later?’”

  “No, it was a female demon.”

  “So we’re talking about a demoness?”

  I drew back. “Does it matter? It was a demon. She wanted to kill me.”

  “She obviously failed, since you’re talking to me, so what’s got your panties in a bunch?”

  “She told me Satan is basically Zephora’s puppet-master.”

  “Basically? What does that mean? I sense you’re not telling me the truth.”

  “You’re right, I’m not.” I didn’t intend to give her more information than necessary.

  “And I’m supposed to believe you because…”

  “You’re on the wrong side, and I wish you’d listen to common sense.”

  One side of her mouth lifted with disbelief as she shook her head as though it had been a waste of time to find me at the door. She swallowed some more liquor.

  Alexis hadn’t asked me to leave, which meant she found my words entertaining or she wanted to hear more about what I had to say. I suspected it was a combination of both. Therefore, I had to walk a fine line to avoid getting on her nerves. “Wouldn’t you prefer a cup?” I asked, gesturing toward the bottle. Then again, since she drank so much so liquor so often, I continued with, �
��Or maybe you’d like a jug? Really, once Celestina finishes a gallon of milk, you could carry it around and pretend its water.”

  “Why would I do that? The bottle works just fine.”

  She obviously had no problem accepting that others might consider her an alcoholic. As terrible as it seemed, at least she stayed true to herself and didn’t allow others’ opinions to determine how she would relate to society.

  She hit me with a disdainful look. “Why are you here? To see Celestina? As far as I’m concerned, you’re a bad influence. I don’t think I’ll let you see her anymore.”

  It felt like she’d carved a hole in my stomach, leaving me empty of an emotional connection that I held so dear that I had difficulty maintaining a stoic expression.

  “Let’s get real, okay?” she asked, seeking permission to speak honestly.

  I held my hands out to my sides in agreement, sensing that she would drop a bomb of epic proportions that would alter our relationship forever.

  “This,” she said, pointing to herself and then me, “we tried to make it work, but we’re nothing alike. We have nothing in common. A friendship?” She chuckled. “It’ll never happen.”

  I’d always known we might as well have been from different countries, but I’d sought a relationship because I’d wanted to feel part of a family, especially since Grams had moved on. I just hoped that Celestina wouldn’t give in to her mother and allow our relationship to perish. The thought made my breath come quick. Celestina and I had only known each other for a few days, but we’d built enough trust so quickly, it could only come from a meeting of the souls. I didn’t want to let Alexis take that away from me. More than that, I realized that I wouldn’t allow my sister to remove her daughter from my life. As an adolescent who was charting out her own individuality, Celestina had a right to determine whom she wanted to spend time with. If she didn’t want to see me, I would reluctantly abide by her wishes, but so far, she hadn’t mentioned anything of the sort.