Her Blood Sings: Episode 01

by Vivian Wolkoff

  "I'm sorry, child." His eyes travelled from Tamara's angry face to Aunt Sandra's calculating stare. "We haven't seen each other in a year and the first thing we talk about is your charge? That's not how family should treat each other." This last part was spoken to Aunt Sandra, their eyes locked. Then, Uncle Baltus turned to Tamara, a gentle smile on his lips. "How are you, Tam? Have you been eating? You look thinner."

  Tamara relaxed a little. Still, she couldn't let it go. "Why do I have to spy on Lucy and Evie? They're good people. Lucy's a little shallow, maybe... and Evie is always looking at me like she doesn't fully trust me, but they are good people. If I talked to them-"

  "And break The Rule?" Aunt Sandra's voice was a horrified whisper. "Reveal to the earthlings our existence? Are you insane?"

  "If Lucy's uncle is this big bad man from the Order, he has probably told her all about us. And Evie-"

  Aunt Sandra interrupted Tamara again. "That's treason, Tamara. Not only against your fellow witches and your Queen, but also against all myths. It's a crime automatically punishable by death. No trial. No room to maneuver."

  "But they-"

  "If they're not initiated in the Order, we must presume they're ignorant. They must remain that way until proven otherwise or our Queen wishes to change that." Her voice left no room for discussion.

  "How do you justify what we do?" Tamara picked up her cup, her coffee already cold. She put it back on the coffee table. "We lie to and cheat those closest to us. Doesn't that go against the law of karmic balance? Doesn't that go against Maat?"

  "We're answering a higher cause." Now it was Aunt Sandra's turn to get angry. Only family and theology got her worked up like this. "We're protecting our Queen and our brothers and sisters of the Witching Realm. That is our mission. Maat-"

  Tamara let out a noise halfway between a snort and a laugh. "The Witching Realm is every single witch alive. Man, woman, and child, Aunt Sandra. I'd never fight for that many people. Neither would anyone else I know."

  Again, Uncle Baltus intervened before the family meeting got derailed. "Then don't fight for them, Tamara. Fight for us and your mother. Fight for those you know."

  Tamara leaned back on the couch. The three of them were deep in thought for a moment.

  Then Tamara said, "I'm sorry. But it's difficult to lie to my friends, to make up excuses. I... I'm not like you."

  To her dread, Tamara felt that nagging doubt that she wasn't cut out to be a spy tug at her. She tried to push it away, a wave of shame washing over her.

  Uncle Baltus leaned forward and patted Tamara on her knee. "I know, child. I know."

  She gave him a small smile.

  "I did lose some weight." She said, answering his previous question. "I was sick last week. The flu. I didn't have any of your tonic left..."

  Very few things got Uncle Baltus as excited as sharing old, herbal medicine and the history of their discovery with Tamara. She watched him as his face lit up and he started telling her stories. She never once glanced at Aunt Sandra. Tamara knew her aunt all too well. She could feel Aunt Sandra's disappointment coming in waves towards her.

  Chapter 5

  Evie arrived at Moonlight a little after one-thirty. Tamara’s friend, who obviously had the hots for her, was more than glad to let her and her two friends cut in line and get in the club. A woman in a pretty gray dress that reminded Evie of those pinup military uniforms of the 1940s checked their IDs and stamped their hands. Then, she gave them an A-list Hollywood smile and wished them a lovely evening.

  Evie stopped just inside the nightclub. Something felt off.

  “What is it?” Lucy asked, her face full of concern.

  Evie tried to force her lips to smile.

  “What is it, Evie?” she repeated.

  “Nothing.” Evie shook her head for emphasis. “Let me go to coat check, ok?”

  Lucy glanced around, uncertain. “Is he-”

  “No. I didn’t see him.” They didn’t say Dan’s name, as if calling the devil would bring him to their doorstep. “I... I don’t know." She shrugged. Her smile came more easily now. "This place is a lot to take in, I guess.”

  And Moonlight really was a lot to take in. The place looked like something out of a Georges Méliès fantasy. It was very Alice in Wonderland on the moon. Everything was pale, pearly white and soft blues in the hall. The inside of the nightclub per se was even crazier. The walls were black - or at least they looked black - with tiny lights twinkling like stars. The bar was a wall of light with pretty decanters tainted by jewel-toned liquids. The furniture was either shiny black or burgundy. The dance floor was pearly white.

  But the best feature was, by far, the staff. They were all jaw-dropping gorgeous. Even Tamara and Lucy were dumbstruck. The women wore knee-length pinup dresses in shades or ivory or red, tittering on impossibly high heels. The men were dressed in black slacks, white shirts, and red velvet knee-length coats and top hats. They acted, each and every one of them, absolutely unattainable.

  And, for some reason Evie couldn’t shake off the bad feeling. This place and its staff creeped her out.

  She tried to act sensible, to tell herself she was being silly, that she had to enjoy herself. But she knew she was probably bullshitting herself. Something started nagging at her the moment she'd crossed the threshold. It was like she couldn’t run away from this place fast enough. She'd most likely run from that place as soon as she could, hop in a cab and go home.

  “So, what do you want to do first?” Lucy asked.

  “Dance,” Tamara said.

  Lucy turned to Evie, expecting an answer.

  "Let's dance," she said.

  Evie followed Tamara and Lucy with a renewed sense of purpose. Maybe some time on the dance floor would help melt this pesky nagging away. She promised herself she’d have fun - even if it killed her.

  God, I’m lame! - Evie thought - I have to force myself to have fun.

  They found a spot on the dance floor that was relatively empty and started dancing. Evie found herself relaxing a little. She felt safe in the throng of moving bodies. Her heartbeat slowed a little and her hands weren't clammy anymore. Evie closed her eyes, feeling relief course through her body. She tossed her head back and let the pounding sound of the music drown her thoughts. She caught herself wondering why she wasn't on the dance floor every chance she got. She lifted her face, feeling the droplets of sweat trickling down her neck. A waft of cool air blasted, making her shiver and smile.

  Evie froze. That nagging feeling had returned.

  ”Do you girls want to get something to drink?” she asked Tamara and Lucy.

  "I'll stay," Tamara said. For a second it looked like she was going to say something else. Then she looked at Evie, shook her head, and smiled.

  "I'll go with you," Lucy said, to Evie.

  Lucy and Evie ordered two beers and showed their stamped hands. The stamp was a clear reference to Georges Méliès: a moon sticking its tongue out, a rocket sticking out of its eye.

  Evie leaned against the counter and rolled her shoulders back, trying to work some of the tension off. She caught Lucy watching her with knowing eyes while she took a lazy sip of her beer.

  “What?”

  “You have to relax, Evie,” Lucy said. She and Evie made their way to a nearby table. “How long has he been MIA? A year?”

  “Ten months and three weeks,” Evie said. “Not that I'm counting the days or anything.”

  “Have you ever considered the possibility that he’s gone for good?”

  Evie took a deep gulp of her beer.

  “He could be dead,” Lucy said.

  Relief ran through Evie at that thought. Then, she felt sick to her stomach. How could she feel glad about someone dying?

  “How many people has he pissed off?" Lucy asked. She didn't seem to notice Evie's foul mood. "Maybe you’re not the only girl he stalks.” She shrugged. “It could happen, you know.”

  “I would know about it. He still has family back home.”


  “What do you know?” Lucy finished her beer. “Have you heard anything from him?”

  “No one knows where he is.” Evie sighed and watched her hands. “Come to think of it, his mom sold the house and moved away. No one knows where she is, either.”

  “See? Ding-dong, the son of a bitch is dead.” Lucy looked through the bottleneck of her beer, trying to conjure some more beer into it. "No mother would willingly become unreachable to her kid."

  “Maybe he's dead,” Evie said, ignoring the thrill those words sent through her.

  "That's the spirit," Lucy said, smiling brightly. "I'll get us another round."

  After Lucy left for the bar, Evie closed her eyes, trying to drive away that nagging fear that was always in the back of her mind.

  “Hi,” a deep voice said at Evie's right side.

  Her head snapped. She saw nothing but well-defined chest in a charcoal T-shirt. She looked up. Chiseled jaw and a dazzling smile met her. His skin was so pale it almost seemed aglow against the bar’s white light. His hair was short, a bed head style that sent all sorts of dirty thoughts racing into Evie's mind. His lips were cherry red. This guy was good-looking enough to rival Moonlight’s staff.

  Half of Evie wanted to run and hide. The other half wanted to jump this guy and hump him until she died exhausted and happy.

  “I’m Chris.” He offered his hand to her. “Your name?”

  Evie gave his hand a limp shake. She hid her hand behind her back as soon as possible.

  “What’s your name?” he asked again.

  “Evelyn.”

  She took a step back and looked at the bar, searching for Lucy. She was talking to a tall, dark haired guy who was also bizarrely good-looking. What was wrong with this place? Evie turned back to the bizarrely good-looking guy next to her. He was giving her a funny look. Did he say something and she hadn't answered?

  “Excuse me?” she asked, forcing herself to be polite.

  “I was asking if this is your first time at Moonlight.”

  “Yeah. First time.” She threw another glance at Lucy. She was giggling. “You?”

  “First time, too.” He glanced at Lucy. “Friend of yours?”

  “Yeah.” Evie took a deep breath and plastered a big, fake smile on her face. “I should check on her. Her boyfriend is very jealous. Big, mixed martial arts fighting, jealous-”

  “It’s cool,” he interrupted. “She’s with my brother.”

  Evie tried to side step him. He took a step as well, standing in front of her.

  “Listen-” Evie narrowed her eyes, trying to remember the guy's name.

  “Chris,” he volunteered.

  “Listen, Chris-” She cleared her throat and squared her shoulders. She still looked tiny next to him. “-You’re insanely gorgeous-”

  “Thank you.” Another swoon-worthy smile.

  “But I’m not interested.” Her smile became a shade brighter when he deflated a little. “Have a good night.”

  Evie sidestepped him and walked at a brisk pace towards Lucy and Chris’s brother. She was batting her eyelashes and giggling like a cliché out of a cheesy romance novel. Evie had to call Lucy three times before she acknowledged her presence.

  “I think I’m going to leave.” Evie waited a moment, but Lucy just stared at her with a blank look on her face. “Lucy!”

  “Ok. See you tomorrow.”

  And, just like that, Lucy turned back to the tall, handsome man standing in front of her. Evie stopped for a moment, looking as dazed as her friend did. Lucy never ditched her for a guy. In the rare occasion when Evie had to leave home alone, Lucy would put her in a cab and ask her to send a text when she got home, just to let Lucy know she was OK.

  “Lucy,” Evie tossed an accusing glance at the man standing next to her. He didn’t look a thing like Chris. Instead of blonde, his hair was dark chestnut. His eyes looked black in the dark nightclub. He was one long, lean line. “Is everything OK?”

  “I’m fine.” She huffed an impatient sigh. “I’m talking.”

  “S-Sorry,” Evie stuttered. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  She turned to leave. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Chris frowning at her. She didn’t stop to wonder what was up his butt. She didn’t even acknowledge him. She just marched towards the lobby.

  “Wait a minute,” Chris said, hurrying to catch up with Evie. When she didn’t stop, his voice turned sharper. “Evelyn!”

  Evie stopped at coat check to get her jacket. She slipped it on and sighed in relief.

  She turned and Chris was there, crowding her personal space. He looked like she had disappointed and annoyed him. Well, Evie was pretty annoyed at him herself right now.

  “What are you?” he asked.

  "What kind of question is that?" Evie asked. "Are you asking what is wrong with me? What's wrong with you?"

  He leaned closer, giving Evie a scrutinizing once over. She took a step back, giving him the stink eye. Now that they were in the well-lit lobby, Evie could see him a little better. His hair was dark blonde and his eyes were cornflower blue. He was even more handsome than he had seemed inside the dark nightclub. But she didn't swoon like she should, apparently. Evie looked around, trying to see where security was. She couldn’t spot anyone. Her gaze shifted to the door. A couple of cabs were waiting outside for anyone leaving Moonlight. Evie used to run track in school. She was pretty sure she could outrun this guy and get in a cab before he reached the door.

  He gaped at her.

  “You are not interested.” He sounded baffled. “At all?”

  Evie snorted at that. Who did he think he was? She started to leave, but he raised a finger, a silent gesture for her to stop. And his surprise was so absurd that she was stunned into compliance.

  “Let me try something.”

  “Why?” Evie crossed her arms across her chest.

  “Because I have to know, ok?” He sighed. He looked a little defeated.

  Evie arched an eyebrow at him.

  “I promise I won’t touch you.” When that didn’t work, he added, “Please.”

  She sighed and nodded.

  He looked deep into her eyes and said nothing. What was he trying to do? Was this some kind of Jedi mind trick? For a moment it kind of worked, because Evie saw something in his eyes. It was like a hint of gold amidst the cornflower blue. She felt something in him pull at some dark, deep part of her she always struggled to keep down. Her lips parted. She wanted to ask him how he was doing that. But she didn't.

  Her heartbeat picked up. She closed her eyes, telling herself to snap out of it.

  “Are we done here?” she asked.

  He gasped. This was clearly not the response he was expecting.

  “Well, that was-” Evie sighed. No point in playing nice anymore, was there? “-pointless and weird. Goodbye.”

  She walked as fast as she could without breaking into a sprint and got into the first available cab. She made it home and closed the door behind her. Evie thought of sending Lucy a message, but didn't.

  When Evie started closing the living room curtains, she thought she saw something outside, dashing so fast it blurred.

  She frowned, opening the window to look outside. She couldn't see anything wrong, so she went to bed.

  Chapter 6

  Irving Murray was staring at his laptop. His small apartment was deep in darkness, the only light coming from the cool glow of the computer screen.

  His eyes traveled the expanse of cream wall behind it, where sheets of paper were taped alongside post-its in bright color with notes scribbled in haste. He had enough data as it was to take his case to the Order's Grand Master and his council of generals. He had emails and pictures. These were just copies, obviously. He had everything in his laptop and in an external hard drive he had hidden someplace safe. But what would they do with everything he had gathered?

  He huffed in frustration. They would probably pat him on the head and send him on his way, only to dump his hard
work in the trash and never think of it again. The Order had bought into the supernatural's propaganda of peaceful coexistence. They didn't want to get their hands dirty and they were not letting anyone else do it, either. If only he could get someone to take a leap of faith, do something big. Then, the supernaturals would find themselves in a position where they would have to reveal their true, disgusting nature. Then, Irving would have an in with his former peers.

  Glory was just outside his reach. He could almost taste it.

  Irving caught a glimpse of himself on the dark computer screen. His smile died on his lips. He was in his underwear and undershirt staring at a wall covered in pieces of paper and photographs. He was glancing at a screen hoping a kid who was over two decades his junior would come talk to him. Irving could feel his colleagues judging him, could imagine them thinking he was a lunatic. The Order leaders would lock him up faster than he could say Order and throw away the key. Irving sighed and got up. He walked on the carpeted floor and shivered when his skin made contact with the cold kitchen floor. He got a beer from his nearly empty fridge. He considered slumping on his old, worn couch and watching some TV.

  Instead, he made his way back to his computer.

  He had very few things at his place. He always made a point to dress to impress, but his home was a different matter. Irving kept his life frugal in every way possible. He avoided long term relationships. He avoided making friendships that would demand too much of his time and energy. He kept his body in a Spartan diet of food and exercise. He kept his home barely furnished. Not for the first time, Irving thought that he could pack everything he owned in three large suitcases and leave at a moment's notice. He didn't care about things. Emotional attachments were the luxury of men and women with simple lives. Irving had dedicated his life to a higher cause - a cause he knew all too well.

  He was fighting for Humanity.

  The only exception was his niece, Lucy. It might be that Lucy looked so much like his Madeleine, or that she had the same fire as his dead sister. It might be because she'd always brought a smile to his lips and lightness to his heart. She was the one person who could break Irving's heart or make his day.