Blood Haze

by L. R. Potter

  “Arabella,” she heard Lynx say softly from behind her, right before his hands landed on her shoulders, and pulled her back into his granite chest.

  A sob left her lips, and she turned and buried her face in his body. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured against her hair, as he wrapped his arms around her, one arm around her waist, and the other snaked up so that he held her nape.

  “I don’t know what to do. It hurts too much,” she whimpered.

  Spying a deserted waiting room across from them, he led her there and pulled her onto his lap, cradling her as if she were a child. And she let him do it, let him take control for now. Harsh, racking sobs rose from way down deep, raking her throat with their brutality. He rubbed his hand over her back soothingly and just held her.

  Lynx’s senses were on overload. The enticing scent of blood lingered in the air of the hospital, which seemed to battle with the smell of death and dying. He struggled to maintain his control as he held the beautiful, distraught woman. The smell of her blood drew him in as did the sound of it swooshing through her veins.

  They sat together for nearly an hour, until her sobs were reduced to merely shuddering breaths. He pressed his lips against her forehead. “I need to let Karmyl know what’s happening. She was very worried,” he said lightly.

  “Thank you for being here. I don’t know what I would have done without you. Please tell Karmyl I won’t be able to sing for a while,” she replied, as blessed numbness seemed to settle over her.

  Rising from his lap, she wrapped her arms around herself and tried to rub warmth back into her arms. The vulnerability she’d exuded before, now draped over her like a shroud. “I need to go check on Drew,” she finally said.

  “I have some things to take care of myself. I’ll be back in a few hours to take you home, okay?” he said.

  “I can get a taxi, there’s no…” she began before being silenced by his uplifted eyebrow.

  “I’ll come get you,” he said with finality.

  “I’d appreciate that.” She rubbed a hand over her face. “I… I need to begin making arrangements for Ian. I… I want to see him. Is that weird?”

  Lynx slowly shook his head. “Not at all. Most people need that type of closure. Wait until I come back and I’ll go with you. Don’t try to do it on your own.”

  Striving to remove the lingering need to lean on him, she straightened her shoulders. The time for weeping was over. Now, she needed to be strong. Sadly, she’d been through this so many times before, she knew exactly what had to be done. “Thanks for everything. I’ll see you in a few hours.” Without waiting on a reply, she spun and headed back toward the elevator. When the doors opened, she stepped inside and turned to face outward. She lifted a hand and gave a small wave before the doors closed.

  When she reached the ICU, Nurse Lottie told her it’d be another hour before she could see Drew. “Do you know where they have put my brother?” she asked the nurse.

  “Our morgue is in the basement.”

  “How long will they keep him there?” Arabella asked.

  “Until you make arrangements with the funeral home to come and get him,” she replied.

  “Can I see him?”

  “I’ll call down and see if when they can set it up, okay?” Nurse Lottie said softly with compassion.

  Arabella sat in a waiting room located outside of the ICU. Overhead, a television, with its sound muted, showed a professional football game. She sat without watching and tried to keep her mind blank, but it was fruitless. She didn’t want to think about the legal ramifications of the accident which resulted in two deaths. She didn’t want to think about why Maggie was in the car with Drew and Ian. She didn’t even know what car they’d been in, or who’d been driving; although, she suspected it was Drew. She took a deep breath, thinking of all the things she’d have to do to settle up Ian’s affairs. Ian, her dear, sweet, often misguided brother. Now, she was well and truly alone.

  She kept an eye on her watch and when the hour of waiting was up, she hurried back to the ICU. Nurse Lottie was now gone and had been replaced by a male nurse. His name tag read, Cal. Nurse Cal led her into Drew’s room and closed the door quietly behind her.

  She sat back down on the chair and once again laid her hand over his. His face was still just as pale as it’d been hours before. The steady beep, beep, beep of his heart-monitor machine made her calmer. Drew was still alive. He was going to pull out of this. She was sure of it. He’d not leave her alone… he never had.

  She talked to him softly about anything she could think of. She talked about things from their past... about local gossip… about anything that had nothing to do with the accident or Ian. Finally, she just sat quietly, touching him and drawing much-needed strength from him. She stayed until Cal came for her.

  She turned to him when they were out of the Drew’s room. “Lottie was going to set up a time for me to visit my brother. He… was… he died this morning.”

  Nurse Cal gave her a grimace filled with sympathy. “I’m sorry for your loss. Let me see if she left any notes regarding that.”

  He returned back to her with a yellow sticky-note clutched in his hand. “The morgue has someone one duty for the next hour if you want to go now,” Cal said. “Just ask for Langston.”

  She gave a small nod, and hesitated for just an instant, remembering Lynx’s words to wait for him. But she shook that off. She had to stand on her own two feet. She didn’t even know him, not really. And she didn’t really want him with her. The visit with her brother… her last visit, was private. She was becoming way too dependent on Lynx Rogan.

  As she walked nervously down the hallway to the morgue, she remembered how just that morning, she’d come back from her run and had received that beautiful arrangement of Cali lilies. That seemed like a lifetime ago. Now, she knew, whenever she saw Cali lilies, she’d not smile with pleasure, but grimace with the remembered pain of this day.

  The dimly-lit basement seemed cavernous and cold. The heels of her shoes clapped against the tiled floor and the sound echoed throughout the space. The room smelled of rubbing alcohol, disinfectant, and death. Death seemed to surround the area and gave it an icy feel. A shiver ran up her spine. She saw a man sitting at a desk, his back to her. As she drew near, he must have heard her shoes, because he turned to face her.

  “Yes?” he asked.

  “Are you Langston?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  I’m Arabella Marks. I’m here to see my brother, Ian.”

  “Of course. If you’ll wait here, I’ll prepare him for you. I must warn you… he was badly beaten up in the wreck,” he said.

  She couldn’t force any words out of her mouth, instead, she just nodded. She stood, wringing her hands together and shuffling her feet. Her heart was heavy and pounded in her chest. A lifetime of memories soared through her mind. Memories of tire-swings and tree-houses; of trick-or-treating and Christmas joys; of severe highs and devastating losses. Through all the craziness that incorporated their lives growing up, it’d always been the three of them. She and Ian; and then Drew. Now, one of the group was gone. Ian was so young, too young to die. She brushed a trembling hand against the continuous flowing tears.

  She turned at the sound of a throat being cleared. Langston led her over to a curtained window with a single chair placed in front of it. Slowly, and soundlessly, he drew the curtain back to reveal her brother lying out on a stainless-steel table with a white sheet draped artfully over his body to hide as much damage as possible. She sat down heavily on the metal chair, her hand raised to her lips.

  Where Ian’s dark hair had once been worn with such vainful pride, now he’d been shaved bald and there was nothing to hide the zigzag of cuts and the staples which now held his scalp in place. His face had cuts and significant bruising. “Oh, God, Ian!” she whispered raggedly.

  She staggered to her feet and pressed a palm flat against the glass, her breath fogging the window directly in front of her mouth. She allowed h
er hand to slide down the glass, smearing it with the oils from her fingertips. Stumbling away from the window, she bumped against the metal chair. The screeching of it sliding across the tiled floor screamed in the silent room. She turned quickly and ran out of the room. She wished more than anything she had Drew to run to.

  Exhaustion weighed down her muscles and with slow, sluggish movements, she made her way to the hospital entrance. Remembering Lynx was going to come and drive her home, she sat in one of the hard plastic chairs, waiting. Time seemed to drag slowly by and after waiting two hours, she hailed one of the taxis which cruised the hospital.

  She unlocked the door to her house and immediately began to pull at the clothes that now seemed to be so constrictive. Once stripped down, she crawled in her bed, pulled the covers up to her chin, before curling into as tight a ball as was humanly possible. Images from her day flooded her mind: Drew, with all those tubes coming out of him, hanging on by a thread; Ian, battered and bruised, lying motionless on that cold, sterile table – on display for anyone who chose to look.

  Pain stabbed at her and she buckled once more under its piercing weight. Sobs ripped from her. Tomorrow, she promised herself, tomorrow, she’d pull it together and be strong. But for tonight, she allowed herself to fall apart. Weary and exhausted, she eventually drifted off into a troubled sleep.

  ~X~

  At the time Arabella sat in the hospital lobby’s hard chairs, Lynx Rogan sat in a dimly-lit bar normally reserved for the town’s seedier sort. He lifted another drink to his lips and grimaced at the lack of quality. Regardless, the copious amount he’d consumed had had the desired effect… he was numb. The time he’d sat with the lovely Arabella had thrown him for a loop. That he’d desired her from their first meeting was a given. But today… well, today had been different. While he’d felt things he’d expected to feel: like the desire to ravish her delectable body; and the desire to taste her scorching-hot blood; what he hadn’t expected was to feel emotions like tenderness and pain for her loss. She touched him on a level he’d not felt in many, many years.

  Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small heart-shaped locket on an old, thin chain. Flipping open the aged locket, he stared at the photograph of a young woman, Celeste Lennox Rogan. At the time of the photo, she’d just turned twenty. She’d had black hair and eyes the color of sea-glass. She’d been the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. He’d just turned twenty-five and had not yet reached the age of continuum, meaning the age natural-born vampires stop aging, thirty-three.

  His vampiral parents had warned him continuously about mingling outside their race, especially with humans. And he’d not intended to become involved with her. He met her during the time of the Blood Haze. She’d been invited to the party as were all the people from the nearby town. She’d been a free-spirit and fun. She’d thought life was a huge adventure and wanted to live it to its fullest. He’d drunk from her that night and couldn’t seem to get enough of her. He’d even refused to share her with the others. She’d been hazed as were all the others, but he’d gone back for her the next night. As a result of the hazing, she’d not remembered him, of course, but he’d known where she’d be, because she’d told him.

  He’d followed her around town for the entire summer. They’d done all the usual things couple do: they’d gone to the movies; taken walks through the park; had gone to dinner; and had made long, slow love to each other. He’d fallen in love with her. His family had railed against him, but he’d remained steadfast. He wanted her at any and all costs.

  They’d married late in the fall, at an old mountain lodge. She’d been sweet, kind, and a dreadful romantic… and he’d never told her what he was. He’d drunk from her when he had to, then hazed her so she was none the wiser. Everything was wonderful. They traveled the world and he’d shown her things that satisfied her adventuresome soul. Things were wonderful until she’d gotten pregnant.

  While she’d been ecstatic at what she thought would be a new life, he lived in agony because he’d known it would certainly mean her death. A human could not withstand the birthing of a vampire hybrid. He’d demanded she abort the baby, but she’d refused. He’d threatened to leave her if she didn’t get rid of the baby, but she’d again refused. That he’d hurt her had been obvious.

  So in the end, he’d decided to go against his family’s wishes once more and he’d told her what he was... what they were. She’d not been able to endure it. Had called him a monster once she’d really understood what he was… what he did. He’d come home - to the house once previously built with love- to find her dead. She’d crawled into their huge tub and slit her wrist, taking both her, and the baby, away from him as she allowed her life’s blood to drain away. He’d realized the poetic justice in what she’d done. His beautiful girl had been unable to face living with a monster. So, she’d taken away everything she’d thought he’d wanted – their child and her blood.

  But she’d been wrong, he’d only wanted her. And he’d sworn on that agonizing day, when he’d been filled with such rage and heartache that he’d never again become involved with another human. The cost was just too great. Ever since then, he used humans for his own pleasures, then gladly walked away… until Arabella. But he could still get out unscathed, and that was exactly what he intended to do. Which was why, he was currently sitting in a seedy bar, instead of driving back to the hospital. This was better for the both of them.

  He lifted gin-soaked eyes to a woman seated at the bar. While she might not be able to satisfy all his desires, there was one she would be perfect for. And even if the scent of her blood didn’t compare to what rushed through Arabella’s veins, at least there’d be no complications involved.

  Chapter 4

  Tears stung her eyes the second she awoke and the reality of her loss hit her once more. Arabella furiously scrubbed them away. She didn’t have time for such as that. She needed to be strong. Drew needed her to be strong and she would not let him down. Even if they technically weren’t together, they’d been friends for a long time. She would not fail him. Her heart ached when she thought of her baby brother lying in that cold, cold morgue. As insane as it was, she hoped he wasn’t left alone in that scary place.

  Not knowing what to do with herself until visiting hours started at nine o’clock, she slid on her running shoes and headed out. While she saw all the same people and they all acted as they always did, with waves and smiles, she got no comfort from it. Selfishly, she wished Lynx was with her. He gave her comfort and made her feel safe. It seemed he’d known exactly what she needed and how to get it for her, even when it’d seemed impossible.

  No! She didn’t need Lynx Rogan. She needed to stay away from him. She needed to concentrate on Drew and helping him get through this. She owed him so much. Her chest burned with loss… and at that moment, she couldn’t swear whether it was the loss of Ian… or Lynx.

  Heading toward home, she finished her run, then showered. She dressed, and began cancelling what jobs she could. She couldn’t afford to cancel them all, which is what she wanted to do. But she’d need the money and couldn’t afford to alienate her clientele. When it got close to nine o’clock, she headed toward the garage to get her car, when she remembered it was still sitting in the Night Owl’s parking lot. She groaned. She’d just have to use the catering van. She went back to the kitchen and retrieved the appropriate keys. When she opened the garage door, she stopped in her tracks. Sitting in the garage was her car. Her heart melted a little at Lynx’s care of her, before she pushed it away. She’d have to find out what she owed him for the service.

  She was happy to see Nurse Lottie back on duty. She wasn’t sure if anyone else would have allowed her to visit Drew.

  “How are you today?” Lottie asked her.

  “I’m okay. How’s Drew?”

  “He seems to be holding his own. He’s been in and out since around midnight,” she replied.

  “That’s sounds like good news. Can I see him?”

 
“Of course. Just try not to excite him too much, okay?” Lottie said.

  “I won’t. I promise,” she promised.

  Arabella eased the door open and slipped inside the dimly-lit room. Stepping up close to his bed, she heaved a heavy sigh at the damage to his face. Images of Ian’s face, with all its zigzag stitches and staples flashed in her mind’s eye and she shuddered, knowing Drew had been lucky. Guilt on her brother’s behalf flared within her. His eyes were closed, and as before, she once again laid her hand over his.

  “Hey, Drew. It’s me,” she said softly.

  As if they weighed a ton, she saw his eyelids flutter open to stare blankly at her at first, then fill with pain. He struggled to speak but the trac-tube stopped him. His eyes became glassy with emotion.

  “Hey, baby,” she murmured. “Don’t try to talk. I’m here. Are you in any pain?”

  His hand shifted beneath hers. She clutched it lightly within her own. His eyes searched her face and she knew he was looking for answers. She swallowed hard, not ready to talk about Ian. She brushed her hand lightly over his face. “Try to sleep. I love you, Drew.”

  He moaned at her words and began to thrash about. The machines surrounding him began to beep loudly. She patted his face. “Calm down, please calm down. Everything will be okay. Please, Drew, calm down. Please, baby,” she murmured as soothingly as she could, as the blaring machines caused her heart to pound.

  He threw his head side to side and tried to talk around the tube shoved down his throat. Nurse Lottie, along with the doctor on call, came rushing into the room. “You’ll need to leave now!” he demanded.

  Arabella began to back away, but Drew clung to her hand. Tears filled her eyes. “I have to go. I’ll be back. Please calm down, Drew. I’ll be back,” she sobbed. His obvious distress broke her heart.

  She broke the weak hold he had on her hand and slowly backed out of the room as his wild eyes followed her… begged her… beseeched her not to go. She sat down outside his room and cried. She’d never seen him this helpless before. She didn’t know how he was going to endure knowing about Ian’s and Maggie’s deaths. God, what if he’d been over the alcohol limit? Would they put him in jail? No! She couldn’t live with that. She couldn’t lose him as well. But hadn’t she already?