Blood Song: Division 7: The Berkano Vampire Collection

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Blood Song: Division 7: The Berkano Vampire Collection Page 18

by Lindsey R. Loucks


  In the meantime, Dad and Hendry were taking their antidote for their poisoned amulets. Hendry had told Dad what he’d done to remove his, and Dad had balked at the idea. So, they both wore them on top of their shirts, a visual reminder to everyone of how power corrupts completely. It seemed to work since no one in the congregation had brought up the act of replacing the empty position of High Witch. Granted, the High Witch didn’t do much more than perform the occasional marriage.

  “What do you think about naming the rooftop garden we’ll eventually grow here after Lucy and Bast?” I asked.

  “It would honor the witch and vampire who lost their lives in order to unite us.” He squeezed my hand, his gaze pointed at the rooftop. “I think it’s a great idea.”

  Since the battle a week ago, we hadn’t strayed more than ten feet away from each other. Every time he wasn’t near me, his absence rooted inside my chest and unfurled with sharp pangs. I felt that way when he was standing right next to me, within touching distance, and yet still so far away. So, our arms or hands were usually linked, and oftentimes, especially in my cramped little closet at the brothel, our lips and bodies were, too.

  “I’ll bring it up to Dad,” I said.

  “Now’s your chance.”

  Mom and Dad strolled toward us arm in arm, the moonlight shining on their bright smiles. Mom wore a high-necked cloak to hide her scar, the ends fluttering around her thin waist, but seeing her with her neck covered reminded me of Allison and one of her ugly scarves. We drew each other in a hug, as we did every time we saw each other now, and I gently tugged her collar down.

  “It’s okay to show it, Mom,” I said. “No one will ever think any less of you.”

  With her thirst managed with one of my strict schedules for more vampire blood, she was doing much better with her Rift Curse, and she looked like she felt better. We had years to catch up on, but with her vocal cords cut, she relied on another of the whiteboards I’d found for her. She didn’t use it often, which was fine, but when she did, we made up songs together and then sang them, her inside her head and me out loud. Mom had said—written—that I’d been singing the blood song all along, with all of my songs, that my voice stirred everyone’s blood, whether they were unicorn or frog. Her words. So I kept singing to draw more vampires to us, and to offer human blood to those who suffered from the Rift Curse.

  She pulled back and cradled my cheek in her palm, a secret smile curling her mouth as she glanced at Hendry. I ticked my gaze between them, thinking I’d missed something.

  “Anyone seen Philip and Tessa?” Dad asked.

  I shook my head, though I had a pretty good idea where the vampire leader and the brothel witch had gone. They’d been stealing long looks at each other when they thought no one was watching. It was ridiculously cute. Yes, a vampire and witch hooking up was the cause of the Rift in the first place, but it had already happened. The Rift, The Sequel, wasn’t in any witch grimoire I’d ever seen. Still, I would talk to them about it, though it didn’t seem like anyone else really cared. Everyone seemed to want to move on, together.

  “We should probably go find them.” Hendry gazed at me, the night sky shining excitement across his face. “Ready?”

  “Uh. Sure. Why do they need finding, though?” I gave him some serious side-eye and then did the same to my parents. Why was everyone so smiley and weird?

  Hendry jerked his head toward the road, the corners of his eyes crinkling before his mouth cracked a smile. I followed him, reluctantly and with narrowed eyes as if to peer inside his head.

  “Tell us how it goes,” Dad called from behind us. “We’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  “Tell us how what goes?” I asked Hendry, then threw a glance back at my parents. “Wait, you’re coming to the brothel?”

  But they’d already turned back to the church.

  Hendry shrugged, but the grin bursting across his face gave him away.

  “If you don’t tell me what’s going on, I’ll start wagging my tongue, and you won’t like what you hear,” I said.

  He leaned into me as we walked down the center of the street, his warm breath a fan to the desire always smoldering just under the surface of my skin. “Oh, I doubt that very much. I haven’t not liked anything your tongue has done yet.”

  I held his hand tighter, suddenly dizzy with want, as my breaths grew ragged. “You say that now…”

  We continued walking, the night breeze touching cool air to my heated cheeks. Hendry talked about ways to strengthen relations between vampires, witches, and humans and the future of Tombstone and the rest of Division Seven. I listened but I was mostly interested in the tone of his voice, so light and hopeful. He could be reading from a medical book, and I would be transfixed. Gone were the days of clammed-up silence, especially at night. Now I couldn’t get the guy to shut up, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  As we neared the brothel, loud music pumped out from somewhere and lifted toward the stars. The nightlife this past week had been wild since witches could wander through the dark and there wasn’t any reason to fear voices any longer. Life here was now a party, as it should be, and sometimes the vampire and witch parties cautiously merged.

  The music grew so loud that I could no longer hear Hendry, even though he was right next to me.

  “What?” I shouted.

  He stopped outside the open door of the brothel, where the source of the music came from, and pulled his whiteboard and marker out of the back of his pants to write something. Then he held up his message.

  Marry me someday…or tomorrow.

  I blinked. Read it again. Pinched myself in case I’d accidentally fallen asleep. The breeze wiped out my mouth with cotton while my heart stuttered. I ticked my gaze up to Hendry, and my eyes flooded with tears at the happiness radiating from him. He wanted to marry me. This gorgeous man, who’d said he’d loved me since the first day he’d heard me sing, had asked me to marry him.

  How was this my life right now? So much had changed in the last two weeks, beyond anything I could’ve dreamed up myself, but this moment right here ranked the highest in terms of what felt right.

  This was the easiest question I’d ever had to answer, but I took my time fishing for my own whiteboard, uncapping the marker, and scrawling what felt like an entire book. Out of the corners of my eyes, people appeared in the doorway of the brothel—Phillip with his palm at the small of Tessa’s back, both with huge grins. Ross and Sarah, their shoulders stooped, but hopeful smiles on their faces. Jeni and Paul, and Mom and Dad, too. They must have used the rooftop ladders that were still in place.

  Finally, I held up my whiteboard, but Hendry barely looked at it. He stalked toward me, his eyes like hungry twin flames, a devious curl on his mouth. When his lips collided with mine, I dropped the whiteboard to a chorus of cheers. It was hard to hear anything, though, over my giant YES singing up to the stars.

  THE END

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  About the Author

  Lindsey R. Loucks is a former school librarian living in rural Kansas. When she’s not discussing books with anyone who will listen, she’s dreaming up her own stories. Eventually her brain gives out, and she’ll play hide and seek with her cat, put herself in a chocolate-induced coma, or watch scary movies alone in the dark to re-energize.

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