Blood To Blood (20 page)

“I would have never thought
the boots would work, but they do,” she said in approval as I completed the
look with gold filigree and semi-precious stone accessories. “Mingle,” she said
before pushing me out the door.

Unsure what to do, I walked
woodenly to the crowded great room. Various people met my eyes, nodding
politely. Everyone seemed so stiff. I figured I should engross myself in some
sort of meaningful conversation. What did one talk about during one's own Mahá?
“Hi, I just learned how to control my killer voice, but still can't stop
freezing time. Have a nice day.”

As I watched the band play a
Duke Ellington tune, an idea began to bloom in my mind. Just then, Markus
walked toward me with a glass in his hand.
“You have nothing to drink. I
can get you some blood,” he offered.

“No thanks, I'm good.” 

“You enjoying all this?”

“Not, yet,” I answered as I
grabbed his hand and pulled him onto the stage. I asked the band to play an
old-school R&B jam and started doing the only thing I felt comfortable
doing—singing. I practiced Mr. C.’s “note infusion” method by funneling
my desire for some liveliness into my voice, but was careful not to lose myself
like I did the night at the Garden. Folks gathered around the stage and started
dancing, clapping, and smiling. Ah, that was so much better.

Markus bobbed his head to the
smooth beat and flashed a toothy grin. His canine teeth were unusually pointy.
There was no mistaking what he was now that he was all grown up. Not to mention
that his stage name was kind of a give-away. He started freestyling an
old-school, romantic rap. A number of the ladies in the room cheered in
appreciation.

 “Now I’m beginning to
enjoy my Mahá,” I said as we jumped down from the small stage to applause.

“Maybe we can collaborate
someday.”

“I'll have to talk to my
partners,” I answered, remembering what happened the last time I did my own
thing without including the rest of Kat Trio. “See what they think.”

There was a comfortable pause
while we listened to the sounds of various activities around the house. There
was a karaoke session happening in the north wing, a volleyball match starting
in the sandpit, and a poker game going on in the mini-casino. Suddenly, it
sounded like a fight was breaking out very close to us. “Hypocrite!” someone a
few feet away yelled. We looked over to see Uncle Set who, as I remembered, was
always angry. From his scowl and confrontational tone, nothing had changed. His
body had gone rigid and the air around him started to crackle. I also
remembered that he was a shape-shifter capable of changing into anything, real
or imagined.

This was bad.

“Not in our house!” Mom's
roar reverberated through the molecules of the air. She pointed to the Yah. It
was glowing red, like her eyes. She looked frightening, but even scarier to me
was Dad. His easygoing demeanor was replaced by a martial stance and his eyes
were ice blue. His rarely-used wand, ancient with mysterious engravings, was
unsheathed and in his left hand. My brothers and sisters had every exit
covered.

Oh no. It seemed as if my
Mahá would be
that
Mahá: the one where something really, really,
reaaalllly bad happened. Anxiety started kicking in.

Set fell to his knees in
front of me. “Please accept my apologies. I have dishonored your house, your
authority, and your trust.”

And then it came. The moment
after which nothing would ever be remotely safe again. Uncle Set started to
writhe in pain. Around the room, mortals fainted while immortals sank to the
ground, some gasping for breath, some even screaming. Mom was panting. Dad
walked toward her as if he was trudging through a vat of molasses. But I felt
okay. Was this another power I didn't know I had?

But it wasn't me this time.

“They're coming,” Mom gasped.
Murmurs of fear rippled through the room.

“They?” I asked. Who were
“they” and what did they have to do with what was going on?

Cici lay immobile on the
floor, but her brain worked. The signal was very weak, but I could still hear
her.
The Ancient Ones.
They're coming.

As soon as Cici told me the
Ancient Ones were coming, there was a deafening ripping noise.

They travel between
dimensions.

Suddenly there were two
people standing in our midst. A woman and what may have been a man. The woman
looked young, but her demeanor was of someone who was old enough to make Mom
seem like an infant. And that was where all the Ancient One-ness came to an
end.

I had pictured AOs in
flowing, Biblical-type gear, like Menelik and Memnon, but she wore a pair of
skinny jeans and black Mano Blanik heels. A gold and platinum Rolex with
diamonds peeked out from underneath a crisp, tailored shirt and avocado-colored
blazer. Her companion was over seven feet tall and androgynous. S/he wore a
black leather trench coat and never met anyone's eyes. Looking at her/him made
my stomach feel itchy, in a queasy way.

Dad and Mom made it across
the room to stand by my side. Aurora and my brothers were still stationed
around the room. Cici was leaning on a wall, and Markus was in the corner
regaining consciousness.
Age
, Cici transmitted.
The younger you are,
the less strength you have in their presence. Some even lose their abilities
temporarily.

Then why am I still
standing?
I asked.
Why
do I feel the same as I did before they came?

Our eyes met. I could hear
her, but she couldn't hear me. I suddenly felt completely alone, but thank
goodness, Mom and Dad each put a protective arm around me. We faced our newest
guests.

“Welcome to the Mahá of Isis
Angelika Clarissa Brown Ami-seshet,” Mom said measuredly.

“We welcome you to our home.
You honor us with your presence,” Dad said in the same tone.

The woman inclined her head
slightly in acknowledgment before pinning me with her gaze. How rude. This was,
after all, my house. Why not show respect to my parents?

“Who are you, please?” I
asked. “What is your name?”

There was a collective gasp
from the others in the room. Even Mom and Dad stiffened. The woman’s soft laugh
sent chills down my spine.

“You may call me Cassandra.”

“Thank you for coming.” I
said, conscious of addressing a being that just
looked
human. I nodded
toward Trench Coat to include her/him in the welcome.

Cassandra leveled a look at Set,
who was still on his knees. He literally shook. Pointing to Set, she said, “We
want to see the Character Gauge now.”

Mom clapped her hands and
people sprung into action. What was happening? I looked at Cici as subtly as I
could, hoping she could give me a clue. She was one step ahead of me,
struggling to think as loudly as she could.
Relax and be yourself. We all
have the greatest faith in you and know you'll do well.

That was it? I had no idea
what to expect or do. Obviously, thinking on my feet was to be a part of these
rituals.

Dad turned to me. “Angelika.
Set disrespected the authority of this house embodied in the sacred Yah. How
should he be punished?”

Was this a test of my
knowledge of Mahá tradition? “As far as I understand, that sort of behavior is
punishable by death.” Everyone hung on my words, and it struck me that whatever
justice I verbalized would be executed.

Set, eyes cast down, didn't
seem angry anymore, just scared. I felt sorry for him, but knew that if he
wasn't dealt with properly my family would appear weak. I was almost one
hundred percent sure that were it up to my parents he would have been destroyed
by now. His fate was literally in my hands.

I thought about how he seemed
to be angry and negative all the time. It was almost as if he was broken.
Without further hesitation, I opened my mouth and directed an A note straight
at the space between his eyes. If he was broken, I would try to fix him. The
sound waves sunk into his forehead and he started to cry. Then he spoke in a
weird language. I stopped singing when he fell, laughing, to the ground. The
sound of his laughter was almost as shocking as the sight of the smile on his
face (if you could call his crazy leer a smile). The stunned gasps from the
guests who knew Set confirmed my observations. Getting the attention of
immortals who'd seen and done it all wasn't easy, but it looked like I'd
accomplished that with my brand of justice.

Another ripping noise, and a
third AO was in our midst.

Under a uniquely embroidered
gold cape, she wore shapeless blue jeans and nondescript casual wear. Her
tangled blond hair hung wildly about her shoulders and, although she looked
about five-foot-two, she held herself as if she could dropkick the world.

“Moira,” Cassandra said to
the newcomer. “Did you see?”

“I saw,” Moira replied.

Mom and Dad stood stiff as
steel while addressing Moira with the perfunctory greeting. She barely looked
at them as she trained her eyes on me.

I kept my gaze on Moira
steady while thanking my lucky stars I no longer had to use the toilet in the
same way since becoming immortal. If I did I would have peed my pants by now.
She took a step toward me. For the first time I saw Trench Coat stir as s/he
put her/his hand to her/his hip.

“We are here to observe.
Nothing more,” Cassandra said to Moira.

“You dare tell me what to
do?”

“I dare.”

From underneath her cape,
Moira drew a sword and pointed it at Cassandra.

Trench Coat drew out a
sawed-off shotgun from under his/her coat and pointed it at Moira. The human
immortals let out a collective gasp. Murmured phrases of shock in different
languages met my ears. I felt like I was having a heart attack.

Then the freezing thing
happened again and the only ones capable of moving were me, Cassandra, Trench
Coat, and the lovely (not) Moira, who now pointed her sword at me. “Die!!” she
screamed wildly.

A third ripping noise brought
the escalating situation to a halt when two more AOs arrived. At least I
thought they were AOs. One was hooded, face hidden within depths of voluminous
white linen. The other one looked like a tall six-year-old with wide, liquid
eyes and a soft jawline. He wore white jeans, a white linen shirt, and white
boots. His skin was jet black and his short, wavy hair was white. He looked so
innocent I expected to see wings.

Both Moira and Cassandra
backed away from them. Moira dropped her sword and Trench Coat handily returned
the gun back to underneath her/his (its?) coat. I was too tongue-tied to ask
the new arrivals their names.

“My name is Bodiel,” the man
said to me. His deep voice reverberated in my ears, and in my head, like the
sound of the ocean in a seashell. The robed figure took off her hood to reveal
her face. “My companion, Knowledge.” She was the exact opposite of him: pale
white skin with jet-black hair.

Cassandra and Moira both
dropped to their knees. Trench Coat remained standing. This was just getting
weirder and weirder.

“Excuse me,” I croaked before
clearing my throat. “But it seems as if I am the only one able to welcome you.
Thank you for coming to my Mahá. You honor me, I mean, us with your presence.”

Bodiel and Knowledge both
regarded me with surprised expressions before bowing their heads and saying in
unison, “We welcome your authority and you honor us with your trust.” Their
piercing gazes took in all the frozen immortals within the room. I looked
around the room, too, mortified.

“Do you know why this happens
to me?” I asked them. “How do I control this?”

“This is why she must be
destroyed,” Moira said from where she was still kneeling on the floor. “If she
doesn't know what she's capable of, with power of this magnitude what can we
expect? She may be the Dark One's twin flame. Or worse.”

She could only be talking
about Tunde. I didn't know what kind of chaos my brother had wrought, but I did
know the destruction of other immortals was a grave offense. If my own family
was concerned I might be a Tunde repeat, it was no surprise these beings might
think so too.

“I am not my brother,” I
declared in a voice as firm as I could muster under the circumstances.

“This same thing happened at
the large human event called a concert,” Cassandra said as if I hadn’t spoken.
“She sang, and everything and everyone stopped.”

Not everyone, but this didn't
seem to be a good time to mention I had a reflection who had taken on a life of
her own. Perhaps I would die today after all.

“You will not die today,”
Bodiel said. He was reading my thoughts as they popped into my head. “You have
a twin flame. But it is not the Dark One. And as for your reflection...” He
looked pointedly at Cassandra. We all followed his gaze, and after a few
seconds, Cassandra morphed into the Lady.

For a second, I was
flabbergasted. And then in a flash, I was standing in front of her, nose to
nose. “How dare you come here after what you did to me and my family?”