Blood To Blood (25 page)

“But you fought me. You set
me up at the Garden gig as if you were my enemy.”

“Everything I did was to test
you, and to give you the skills you will need to fight adversity. I called
Bodiel and Knowledge when it was apparent you needed a little help with your
ability.”

“You called Shoftiel, too?”

She smiled that weird smile.
“Don't you know by now, Angel? Earth-bound immortals cannot stop you. There was
still a question as to what direction you would choose.” She touched my face
with fingers that felt like warm honey.

“If you’d given me a reason,
I would’ve killed you in a heartbeat,” Moira grumbled.

“But now it is clear to us
who you are,” Bodiel spoke. “We are satisfied.”

“This ability you have, your
voice,” Star said. “You have used it well. And we are proud.” Her maternal tone
reminded me of Mom. I felt her lips on my forehead before everything unfroze
and went back to normal. And then she was gone, along with Moira and Shoftiel.
With no idea of what just took place, the crowd dispersed.

Soon after, Bodiel and
Knowledge made their way to the front door with suitcases in tow. Knowledge
turned to me. “Well done, young one.” She actually hugged me. Bodiel patted me
on the back, much like one would pat a dog considered to be a treasured family
member.

“What about Justin?” I asked.
“How will I explain what’s happened to him?”

Bodiel smiled. “You'll work
it out.”

Mom, Dad and Cici came to my
side. “Thank you for honoring us,” Mom said. The angels bowed their heads
humbly and started to turn away.

But I just had to ask.
“What's in the suitcases?”

“You really want to know,
Angel?” I nodded eagerly. “Souls,” they whispered together, before the door
closed with a final, loud click.

I let loose a wild exhale
before Cici turned to me. “You did it!” she exclaimed with tears and a big
smile.

Dad gave me a bear hug. For a
brief moment, I enjoyed the pleasure of feeling protected, but I also relished
the fact that my safety had been earned with my own pain, anxiety, and blood.
“One more ritual to go,” he said warmly, smiling down at me.

“It will be nothing,” Mom
added, wrapping her arms around us.

“Good,” I said in relief,
“Because this Mahá is killing me.” We all laughed at my corny joke before Cici
and I made our way back to the dressing room.

#
# #

Fifteen minutes later, I was
freshly showered and changed. The house’s energy was back to human level, and
now that the AOs were gone, folks were more relaxed. That is, until I came
around. Then, they straightened up (as if they’d been talking about me) or
moved out of my way. The euphoria I felt from having stayed alive melted away.
My knees buckled and I sank onto a bench right before Justin appeared.

“You’re hungry and tired,” he
said. He picked me up like I weighed two ounces. “It's been a long day.”

His arms felt good around me.
Familiar. Wanting to hide from the fear in my guests’ eyes, I allowed myself to
relax and melt into him. He started walking toward the nearby service stairs.
“Where are we going?”

“To the bedroom,” he answered
as if it were obvious.

“Justin!” I exclaimed. I
tried to get out of his arms, but his new strength made it difficult.

“Angel, it’s not what you
think. I mean, you need to eat.” I stopped struggling, but still wanted him to
let me go.

“Justin, you can't let my
family see this. I still can't explain—”

“Explain what?” Mom said from
one of the doorways off the hallway. “You are free to bring your donors to your
Mahá.”

Her eyes took in the ease
with which he carried me.

“I've been working out,” he
said, trying to cover. “Eating lots of protein.”

Her brows knitted and her
fingers twitched. She wanted to touch Justin; to scan whatever she sensed was off.
Despite all I’d been through, I was still afraid of being busted by Mom.

“Mom, I'm about to eat the
mortal staff,” I blurted, hoping that would bring her ruminations to an end. It
did. She stepped aside to let Justin sweep me up the stairs, away from the
guests.

Later, the family, and
Justin, lounged in my suite while Cici helped me get dressed (yet again) in the
dressing room. “All you need to do,” she said, “is drink blood from a person.
The Vampiric Reaction ritual is simply a gauge of what kind of blood drinker
you are.

“What's the point?” I asked.

“When feeding from mortals,
Shimshana occasionally create vampires accidentally,” Mom said from the suite.
“We are unsure why some mortals are affected this way, but our DNA is
responsible for the existence of a number of vampiric striations, including the
ones with fangs, the ones that sparkle in the sun, and the ones that cannot
bear the sunlight. That, my dear, is how vampires came to be.”

I thought about this for a
second, and then it hit me: the ritual could be a perfect cover for Justin's
new abilities. That was probably what Bodiel meant when he said I’d “work it
out.” Later, when Justin didn't drop dead after I'd fed from him past the
limit, and he demonstrated his newfound strength, the Council members
proclaimed him a vampire who could walk in the day and didn't have fangs.

“Just don't let anyone see
you eat that,” I warned him afterward, as he raided the buffet for an entire
roasted chicken and a few sandwiches.

After the rituals were done,
it was time for the public face of the Mahá. Many immortals took their leave at
this point, including Mom's Council colleagues, which was fine by me. To
celebrate, Markus and I did a couple of songs from his first album as press
photographers captured some shots, thanks to PE sending out word through the
Hollywood grapevine. We wrapped up our impromptu performance to thunderous
applause. “They love us already,” he said right as the band blared a rousing
salsa intro. He started spinning me around the dance floor. “By the way,” he
continued, “you were brilliant at the Abilities Showcase. Come out sometime.”

“You're asking me out on a
date?” I asked in disbelief.

“May I cut in?” Justin
interrupted. Markus emitted a low snarl before reluctantly giving my hand to
Justin.

“Haven’t I shown I can take
care of myself, Justin?” I whispered angrily, resenting his possessive
attitude.

His answer was to press my
body into his as we swayed together. “No one knows you better than me,” he said
in a low voice. He was right. He was the only person who knew about the angels.
And he was the only one I could tell about Star. He wore an Armani suit that
Wardrobe happened to have hanging around in their surplus stock. His five
o’clock shadow brought out the blueness of his eyes. I had to admit; he looked
good. The small army of women checking him from the sidelines seemed to think
so, too.

“I once wondered if it were
the blood obsession that made me feel the way I do about you,” he continued.
“But then I remembered the first time I laid eyes on you. I walked to you, to
be in your service, and had already fallen under your spell.” He held me even
tighter. I felt every angle, every crevice of him. “I wish you were hungry
now,” he said longingly. “I really do.”

“Justin, I think you need to
find a girlfriend.” I glanced suggestively at one woman in particular who
couldn't stop staring at him. He followed my glance.

“As if I am so simple-minded
that any girl would do?” he whispered angrily. “Angel, you're a goddess. Who
can compare?”

I felt bad for suggesting he
was easy. “Sorry,” I stammered, “didn't mean it that way.” We danced in silence
for a few moments.

“When you go back into the
mortal world,” he said, “you'll see how much you've changed. You'll see it in
the faces of everybody who you thought you knew. You’ll see they don't know you
at all.”

He dipped me deeply as the
music came to a climatic end. I felt his breath in my ear. “When you feel
alone, call me,” he whispered. “We don't need the waiter anymore. You don't
even need a phone. All you have to do is feel me. And I'll be there for you.”

J
ustin’s insight into my imminent
alienation proved prophetic. I’d survived my Mahá, but back in Boston, the
day-to-day reality set in.

I was a freak.

Instead of feeling like a
card-carrying member of the immortal club, I felt like an outcast. Even some of
my own family looked at me sideways. The twins avoided me, Adrian stopped
sneaking up behind me, and Aurora and Roman were on pins and needles. Mortals
were acting weird, too. Since the press came out on the Garden gig, kids at
school who used to leave me alone now treated me like some sort of celebrity.
Smiles were a little too big and enthusiasm seemed a little extra when I walked
into a classroom. Even though it was months away, guys were asking me to the
junior prom. People even let me cut the cafeteria line, though no one seemed to
notice I never ate the food on my tray.

Thank goodness Jules and LaLa
were the same. “Giiirrrl, we missed you!” LaLa exclaimed.

“You definitely seem more
relaxed,” Jules added. “You were looking mad stressed.”

“I’m straight now,” I said,
knowing they could never understand how true that was. More than ever, I needed
the everyday realness of my girls. I spent every waking moment with them:
catching up, shopping with money we’d earned from the gig, and honing our
vocals for the Sawyer tracks in prep for our upcoming recording session.

“He kept asking about you,”
LaLa confided. “He wanted to know if you were okay.”

So he’d been thinking about
me, too. Maybe what happened between us was real after all. The idea made my
heart jump into my throat, and it took all I had not to pick up the phone.
Jules looked at me with a knowing glance. “Our session’s tomorrow,” she
reminded me. “You’ll see him then.”

Even though a mortal tomorrow
was insignificant to me now, it still felt like forever before I’d see Sawyer
again.

#
# #

We entered Omega Blast, the
professional studio where we were scheduled to record, as if we were walking
into a sacred shine. Literally around the corner from Sawyer’s studio, it was a
place where many top acts had laid down tracks. We looked around in awe at the
pictures and awards decorating the walls. Despite the demo CDs we put together
in the past, the recording process was still relatively new to us. More than
the adoration of the fans, I craved the respect of my peers, and the recording
studio was the place where that respect was earned.

Nina had warned us the
session could go all day before Sawyer felt like he had everything he needed,
so I'd prepared myself by packing over twenty thermoses. I may have been in
control of my voice and time-freezing ability, but when it came to being around
Sawyer, I couldn’t take any chances. Just the thought of seeing him again made
me want to jump out of my skin.

We received a ton of spam
from people who wanted to work with us, but the number of people we’d invited
to record with us were few. We recruited Elio's bass player, Joy, and their drummer,
along with the backup-band guitarist who had kept up with me so well the night
of the Garden gig. The rest of the instruments, keyboards, percussion and such,
were to be covered by Sawyer. 

We also invited Markus to
come over and drop eight bars. LaLa was ecstatic about this. She screamed when
I asked her and Julietta if it would be okay to let him sit in on our session.

“What! Are you crazy? Little
Wolf! Of course, it's okay with me!”

In a strange role reversal,
Julietta was the more reserved one. “You never mentioned you knew him,” she
said in an accusing tone. “How’d you manage that?”

“Who cares?” LaLa said while
bouncing around the studio. “Whoo hoo!”

I felt like I’d stepped into
the Twilight Zone.

Sawyer, looking like he
hadn't slept for days, introduced us to Don, the recording engineer. It was
clear from the coffee cups, empty mineral water bottles, and various empty food
packages strewn around that they had been at work for some time. They were now
ready for us.

“Angel, you go first,” Sawyer
said from his seat at the boards. “I need your vocals laid down so I can build
out the other vocal tracks around them.”

Carrying my hot lemon-honey
tea, I made my way into the main recording booth and put on the headphones.

“Sing into the mic, need
levels.” His grunted request emphasized the dark little cloud around his head
and the deep frown above his red-rimmed eyes. In the soundproofed booth, I
could smell the exhaustion coming off of his skin and it made me want to take away
whatever was weighing on his mind. Complying with his request, I sang an F
note. The sound of my voice fed back into my ears through the headphones as I
placed my wishes into that note and directed it exactly where I wanted it to
go. Straight to Sawyer's heart.