Hotblood (18 page)

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Authors: Juliann Whicker

BOOK: Hotblood
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Huh.” I wasn’t sure what to say, but Snowy was still taking a breath, and I wanted to show her that I wasn’t quite the same. “She sounds completely evil. Let’s burn down her house!”

Snowy blinked, stared at me, then blinked again while I wondered if I should have stayed quiet. She narrowed her eyes and looked me up and down like I’d expected her to do from the moment she saw me, took in my wild hair, silk wrap dress, and old lace up-boots, staring at my face for a little while. “We could, but then someone would have to open their home to the poor dispossessed thing, and you know that would likely be you, or me.” She wrinkled her nose. “The only good thing about her is that she lives on the other side of town. Enough about my traumatic summer, tell me about yours.”

I opened my mouth and shut it wondering where to start. “It was very laid back. My dad and I bonded and stuff. I wish I could have stayed there. My mother is…” I trailed off.


I always hated your dad for leaving you guys like that, but maybe there’s more to that than I knew. I was worried about how you’d be, but Lewis said that your dad used to be a famous therapist or something.”

I stared at her, shocked she could say his name so casually. My mouth was suddenly dry as I asked, “Lewis?”

She started rifling through her closet, the black and white punctuated by pink. “Yes. He’s the other newcomer, and completely opposite the evil Valerie. The only problem with him is how reluctant he is to get involved with the community. He never goes to pool parties or anything that’s purely social. If there’s a cause involved he’ll go with Osmond, but otherwise he stays at that old farm and milks cows or whatever.” She frowned and I felt a little bit relieved. She hadn’t sounded like he was her boyfriend.


How are the other people? Osmond and everyone else?”


Oh, Osmond’s fine. After the first night when Lewis and Osmond got in a fight…” her voice trailed off and she frowned at a black shirt.


A fight?” I prodded. She shook her head mutely. “Come on, Snowy. Osmond got into a fight? That doesn’t sound like him. Is he different?”

She turned away from the closet and smiled brightly, “Of course not. Osmond’s always Osmond, it was only a little misunderstanding. I never got the whole story. Where did you get your dress? It’s really granny, but I think you make it work. I have to go shopping, but I’ve had no time to make it to the city to really do the fall season justice. We should plan on going. What are you going to wear to school tomorrow? I’m going to wear the pink polo with black pleated skirt. You can’t go wrong with a classic.”


Right,” I sighed, preparing for a lecture on the glories of the pink polo. “Not that I’d wear a hot pink polo, but you always make it work. What?” I asked wondering why she was looking at me like I was an alien.


Nothing. So what are you going to wear tomorrow?”

I shrugged. “I haven’t thought about it. I only have clothes I brought with me from my dad’s house. That’s okay, though, because I’m kind of over the whole black, white and gray thing. My mother’s house is so bleak. You’re lucky your mother doesn’t have a color phobia.”

Snowy looked like I’d just suggested dying her hair green. “Your mother’s house is the most chic and stylish place I’ve ever been. I don’t see how you could complain about living somewhere that looks like it came from the pages of architectural digest. That’s ungrateful,” she said in a superior tone.

I stared at her for a moment as her words sank in. “Ungrateful? You think that I should be grateful that my mother would allow someone as obviously inferior as me a place in her perfect world? And I should be grateful for you and your long-suffering friendship, right? How could I be so selfish not to be grateful for all the wonderful care I’ve always gotten from Devlin’s friends.” I stood up and grabbed my bag. “You know, Snowy, you might want to develop more of a spine instead of letting inferior types like me take advantage of you.” It all came back in a rush, all the times when Devlin had passed me to Snowy and she’d passed to Osmond who served as back up. I didn’t have friends; Devlin had friends. I wasn’t Dariana; I was Devlin’s soulless little sister. I was shaking from the anger that had come over me before I had time to think.

I left her standing speechless, her mouth in a small “o” behind me. I had to get out before I did something I’d regret. She was the same as she’d always been, I told myself as I stalked down the street. She and Devlin had been perfect for each other. I swallowed a lump in my throat as I tried futilely to shove thoughts of Devlin out of my head. In all honesty, Snowy hadn’t said or done anything unusual, but seeing her had made me feel so out of place, so out of myself. She didn’t have any more idea who I was than I did. Maybe I’d have an easier time making friends with the new girl than I would have trying to figure out how to be my new self around Snowy. It was hard enough being myself around me.

I walked aimlessly trying to figure things out, then felt a wave of horror when I looked up and realized where my feet had taken me. I’d walked without any clear direction and now stood across the street from the cemetery. In the fading light I could see a line of trees that led to the woods on the right, curving around to enclose the grounds. The wall was old with cracks running up the chipped blocks where it wasn’t covered in ivy. It was so different from the last time I’d been here. I watched a yellow speck flutter down from a tree, flipping and gliding until it came to a rest at my feet. The trees were changing, shifting from the green of spring to the brilliant autumn.

Snowy was right; I should be grateful. I had so much to be grateful for— one, that I could feel my nails digging into my palms; two, that I noticed things like a bright color against a world of greens; three, that I could get angry at Snowy or do anything on my own volition. I was myself and for that I would be thankful if it killed me.

I took a step into the street, one step closer to the cemetery and the woods beyond that Satan had warned me against. I took another step and knew I was smiling as I thought of all the things I could do now. It was remarkably fun to ignore good advice. I picked up my pace, deciding to cut through the cemetery to get to the woods. It would be much faster to take the woods to my mother’s house instead of following the meandering suburban road the way I’d come. I loved the feel of my hair blown into my face by the wind as I shoved through the iron-gate, sending it clanging against the wall. If I hurried I should be able to get home before it was entirely dark.

I walked through the cemetery, making a wide circuit of Devlin’s grave. It was impossible to miss from its position on the hillside, but I did my best. I broke into a jog as I passed through stones, most of them ornate crumbling statues. It should have been creepy, not exhilarating to jump over the low ones and race around tall ones. I didn’t slow down when I reached the woods. My new instincts were clearer, sharper, and I could smell the undergrowth and taste the wind, even diminished through the trees.

I heard a crack to my right, like a branch had fallen that made me jump. I laughed at myself and hurried on. It was slow going in some places where I had to go around patches of blackberry or wild roses. It was darker in the woods, much darker and I found my nervousness growing each time I heard something unfamiliar.

I found myself looking over my shoulder, a sense of panic building in my chest. It was ridiculous for me to be afraid of the gentle woods around my mother’s house, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being followed by something I couldn’t see. I hurried and wished I’d listened to Satan as it got darker and darker beneath the trees. I was probably halfway through the woods to my mother’s house when something brushed my face. It was a light touch that felt like it left an oily residue, but when I put a hand to my cheek, there was nothing. I ran faster, feeling phantom fingers brush my leg. I could hear my heart ricochet in my chest as I raced, fear making me clumsy as I slid to one knee. I forced myself to fight the horror that gripped my mind, to slow down and think. I realized that I’d changed directions and instead of following the perimeter of town I was heading away towards the river. It scared me that I’d gotten disoriented when I knew these woods so well.

I forced myself to stop and close my eyes, trying to ignore the fingers, the whispers I could almost hear. I turned towards town and started running, forcing my mind to focus on what I was doing, to block out the rising screams inside my head and the touches that grew more oily and substantial, until I could see a glowing streetlight. In a few seconds I broke out of the trees. Whatever they were, they did not want me to go to the light. I felt their gnashing fury more than heard it, the wailing in my head getting louder as I ran past the large shape of an old barn. That’s when I heard the scream, one that came from outside my head and made the fear I’d felt disappear, consumed by a different, stronger emotion. It was the scream of the Nether creature, the silver something, and it was here, just like me. I ran, with my head turned to look over my shoulders until my feet hit something solid and I flew through the air. My arm hit the gravel first. The sensation of rocks imbedding in my flesh made focusing much simpler. Apparently running as fast as you can while looking backwards wasn’t particularly bright. I rolled into a crouch ready to attack but found myself facing the warmest, sweetest eyes the world had ever framed.


Are you okay?” Lewis asked, his face in an expression of concern as he looked at me, his hand on the sleek metal of a car like he’d just pulled himself up off the ground.

I blinked and wondered if I was in shock from blood loss, or hallucinating for a different reason. That voice wasn’t possible. The blood leaking out of me nearly drowned out his scent, the oil and spicy shampoo mixed with something else, warm and sweet. Another scream broke the spell. I looked past Lewis towards the woods. He turned as a deep sheet of darkness raced towards us. As the shadow expanded I saw darker forms caught in it, distorted human shapes that twisted and spun in the shadows. They writhed and struggled but they were caught. The hair on my arms rose as the darkness reached Lewis. There was no time to run. I thought I heard him gasp the split second before I was engulfed. It was warm and smelled like autumn, only so much sweeter. I breathed with my mouth open, panting while I tried not to smell so much, to ignore how much I wanted the Nether darkness, and then it was gone. It took one blink for everything to disappear. The darkness was simply gone and with it all of the things that with some time I could probably convince myself were the effect of an overactive imagination. Lewis was not gone. I stood looking at the back of his head, the scent of Nether rendering his own scent as far less spectacular.

He exhaled abruptly and turned towards me. “Well, that was something. What, I’m not sure, but definitely something.”


Um, yeah.” My voice came out a croak. I couldn’t stop staring at him. The expression in his eyes was warm and gentle. I could feel how solid and assured he was.


Are you all right? I thought you were bleeding,” he said and I remembered my arm. I looked down and it was as smooth as if I’d never hit the gravel.


I…” my voice trailed off as I took turns staring from my arm to the boy. “I thought so too.”

His chuckle sounded a little bit strained. “You must be a very fast runner if you could outpace demons.”


Demons?” I swallowed and took a step towards him without thinking, craving his solid warmth. “Are we safe here? Will they come back?”

He shook his head frowning then rubbed the side of his knee. It was then I realized what I’d tripped over. “Not if a Nether had anything to do with it. From what I understand they’re very thorough. You look like you’re in shock. Do you need to sit down?”

I shook my head and wished I hadn’t because it made my head ache. “No, I’m good.” It was not exactly true. “I need to get home.” Which was definitely honest. It was completely dark by now and if it weren’t for the streetlight I wouldn’t get to stare up at his sculpted features and warm eyes as I soaked in the sight of his real, warm, flesh. If I was in shock it was a toss up what had caused it. Staring at him, I felt my breath get short and I realized that I was hyperventilating.


If you sat down for a minute…” he said and put his hand on my shoulder.

I looked down at the hand, the scar on his thumb inches from my mouth. I could see the veins in his hand, hear the pulse, and smell the blood. The anxiety left me and I felt my heart rate slow down until it beat in time to Lewis’s. I shoved his hand off me and turned towards the street. I could have sworn that my knee had gotten bashed, but now there was no pain. I had questions and maybe he had answers, but right now I was not to be trusted with someone too sweet to resist.


Goodbye,” he called faintly after me as I started to run. I was late and Satan was going to kill me when he found out where I’d been, but not angrier than I was with myself. I should have known better than to go out in the woods at night, for the sake of the Nether if nothing else. My heart rate accelerated as I thought of him, the scent of darkness, and that he’d followed me to Sanders. I hated how exhilarated I felt at the thought of those shadows waiting for me in the woods. I didn’t know why the demons had wanted to chase me towards the river, or what they would have done if the Nether hadn’t come along. My father was very clear about the one good thing about Nether: that they killed demons. Lewis knew about Nether. I was confused that I could feel so strong about Lewis, and even stronger about something else.

When I got home I went straight to the kitchen to grab something to eat.

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