Hotblood (45 page)

The next day at school I set my tray down carefully beside Snowy, trying to ignore the look she gave me.

“
So,” she began and I tried really hard to keep the sigh from escaping. I sighed way too much lately.

“
So,” I said and had a brilliant idea. “Are you going to ask Smoke to the Valentine’s dance? If you’re not then I know who I’m asking.”

“
What?” She got all bug eyed at the idea of me taking Smoke to the dance, then her eyes narrowed and she shook her head at me. “Nice try. And anyway I am asking Smoke. So have you given Osmond an answer about the date yet?”

I was tempted to put my head down into my lukewarm mashed potatoes but resisted the urge. “I wish you would stop fixing me up with him. I’m perfectly capable of having a social life all by myself.”

“
All by yourself is what I’m afraid of. Come on. It’s no big deal for you to go out to a little movie with your good friend Osmond. You agreed to do it before all that crap went down.”

“
Why do you want me to go on a date? I’m not normal, and I’m not going to be normal however many normal guys I date.”

Snowy tossed her hair and said airily. “Osmond is definitely above average.”

I couldn’t help but smile a little bit at that. “Yeah, Osmond is great, but I’m not supposed to date people who aren’t sanctioned by my family.”

Snowy rolled her eyes dramatically. “Oh yeah, and you’re so good at following the rules. When are you going to bust out and do something crazy? I kind of miss the old you.”

“
Yeah. Me getting people killed was so way cool. Osmond has scars from the burns,” I said quietly. I felt a rush of guilt for risking my friends to rescue…

“
He has scars from all kinds of things, and he wasn’t nearly as badly burned as Lewis,” she said ignoring my flinch when she said his name. “Ask your mother if she minds if you date Osmond, and if she says no, then you can give the whole, ‘my mommy won’t let me’ speech, but otherwise you have to give the real reason you don’t want to date him.”

I scowled at her. I wanted to say something mean and cruel, about how long it had taken for her to admit she liked Smoke, about how she hadn’t exactly bounced back after Devlin died, but instead I bit my lip until I tasted blood. That was unfortunate because the taste of blood made me wickedly sick. I shoved away from the table and headed for the restroom. I ignored the looks people gave me, mostly of pity, irritatingly enough. I wasn’t sure about the stories going around, but they had something to do with me getting dumped and being depressed about it. That wasn’t true at all. I was the one who told Lewis I never wanted to see him again. Go girl power, I thought right before I puked in the school’s old leaky toilet.

***

“
Mom, Osmond asked me on a date. Is that okay?” I felt like an idiot as I said the words. I was old enough to date who I wanted, but ever since my uncle Stephen died protecting me I felt like I owed a debt— the kind of debt you just can’t repay.

She stared at me, and a slight smile flickered around her mouth before it disappeared. “You’re asking my permission?”

I sighed and started peeling an orange. It gave me something to look at so I wouldn’t have to look at her. “Jackson told me that I couldn’t date people without sanction from the House. I don’t want to mess up again.”

“
Satan,” she called in a raised voice. After a few heavy seconds Satan’s slouchy hatted head appeared in the doorway. “Sit down please.”

Satan grumbled as he made his way to the table. His shirtsleeves were rolled up and I could see the tattoos circling his wrists. “What’s going on?” He asked pulling out a cigar.

My mother’s hand darted out and snatched the cigar from his mouth. “When were you going to inform my daughter that she had no duty towards the House?” Her voice was soft and purring but it made my arm hairs rise. I could feel the anger in her, smoldering barely under the surface. I almost expected lightning to strike.

Satan shrugged uncomfortably eying the cigar. “It didn’t come up.”

My mother’s fist tightened on the cigar then she dropped the wilted sad mess on the table. “Why don’t you tell my daughter why she has no duty towards the House, and why don’t you sound convincing?” she asked leaning back in her chair with her long sleeve covered arms crossing her chest.

Satan inhaled deeply, looked mournfully at the cigar and then shrugged slapping his huge hands on the table. “Your dad went with us to take out Bliss. He worked out some kind of agreement to keep you and your mother out of the House.”

My mother snorted at this. “Some kind of agreement? Which was…”

“
Alex is taking the temporary place of Stephen until Jackson can grow into the position, or until the position is filled some other way, or until Alex takes over the entire house and makes us all arborists,” Satan finished with a growl. “This wasn’t my idea, Helen. You know perfectly well that I’d rather eat all my hats than see a Cool take the place as son of the house, but times are changing. Apparently.” He pulled out another cigar and glared at my mother.

She gave him a bland smile and shook her head. “Was that so hard, Satan?” She turned to me and said gently, “you may date anyone you like. If you like him,” she cocked her head and then shook it slightly. “Osmond is a very good friend.” She stood up and that was that.

I looked at Satan, but he was studying the smoke that hung in a cloud around him, making no movement towards the window. I waved my hands in front of my face to clear the smell of burning but he didn’t seem to notice. I felt the headache crowding behind my eyes and needed to get out.

I walked down the sidewalk beneath the streetlights, sliding on the ice and hard packed snow. I shivered and zipped my coat up higher. I walked aimlessly, trying to sort things out in my head. I felt something stirring inside of my chest, something that hurt a lot. My dad was working for Slide. I clenched my teeth trying to understand why I felt like this, like I wanted to rip something apart, like I wanted to do something drastic and stupid and violent—to myself. The streetlight above me began humming, the squeal sounding louder and louder until with a pop it exploded. I ducked and covered my head with my hands then felt a burning line across my knuckles. I straightened shakily looking at my hand in the near dark with the streak of blood already staining the cuff of my coat. I pulled out the shard of glass, took a shaky breath then walked home.

The next afternoon I found Osmond at his locker. “Osmond, when do you want to go?” I asked him, the words spilling out of my mouth as quickly as possible. I tried not to notice the people looking in my direction. Osmond shot me a grin, and I wanted to flinch at the white scar across his forehead. It had been a miracle that everyone hadn’t died.

“
I’ll pick you up tonight at seven. Do you need a ride home now?”

I shook my head and smiled while I backed away from him. “See you then.”

I rode home with Snowy and felt a slight satisfaction at not telling her about the date. She’d been bothering me for so long, not telling seemed like the only revenge I could think of. It was almost a relief to think of going out with Osmond. I liked Osmond. Maybe if I liked him enough I would stop feeling sick about Lewis.

That night I stood in my bedroom in front of the mirror wondering if I should put on the knife harness Satan had given me for Christmas. It went around my thigh and was the kind of thing that I wouldn’t have thought about much as a Hotblood, but now, it was weird. I was not the same person who could easily hunt and track and fight and who had no fear. I stared at myself in the mirror, the eyes that were somehow both my dad’s silvery pale blue, and my mother’s dark blue nearly black, the hair that still had highlights from the summer that made the brown look alive and healthy. I looked nice. When I smiled I didn’t look like I wanted to eat someone. I missed the scary Hotblood. I shook my hair back and left the knife where it was. I needed to forget about all the things I wasn’t and couldn’t be.

I stood beside Osmond in line for the popcorn and felt my stomach clench. I couldn’t remember ever being in a movie theater and there was something about the dim lights and the popcorn machine that made me nervous. Maybe it was Osmond who was wearing a nice button down shirt and a jacket, wearing cologne I could smell. I guess he matched me in my carefully selected dress but it made me wonder where the guy was who I’d known all my life.

“
So… do you have the internship lined up yet?” I asked as we were bumped by a younger couple with some rebellious piercings that would have looked mild anywhere other than Sanders.

“
It’s been lined up for years. How are your art classes going?” He gave me a half smile that made a dimple in his cheek. The dimple made me smile back at him.

“
Great! It’s amazing to see how much there is to learn.” My smile was weak and forced but I held onto it.

“
Give it some time,” he said encouragingly. “Do you want popcorn?”

Before I knew it we were sitting close to the back of the movie theater with popcorn between us.

“
That guy makes a lousy villain,” Osmond whispered.

“
What is he wearing?” I asked, and he gave me a smile I could only see dimly in the reflected light.

I eventually relaxed back into my chair and let myself be amused by the story of a guy and girl who are chased around by some ridiculously badly acted villains until the point where the guy’s injured and the girl’s telling him she loves him, and there’s so much blood, and the smell was overwhelming and intoxicating, and nothing else in the world was like it, and it’s everywhere, on her hands, smeared down her dress, and she’s kissing him, begging him to live, begging him to stay with her, telling him she loves him and can’t live without him, and someone was yelling, saying something about danger, the woman she has to leave him, has to…

The screen went black as Osmond pulled me to my feet and half carried half pushed me down the aisle towards the nearest exit. People shouted and pushed while the thick smoke came from everywhere. I coughed and stumbled but Osmond had his arm around my shoulder and he pushed by everyone in our path, gently of course. I leaned against him and put my face in his shirt, glad for the smell of the cologne that blocked out the smoke, kept me from smelling the blood, even though I knew that there really was no blood.

We burst through the side doors into the alley where groups of people stood around talking excitedly, pointing to the movie theater. I looked down and studied the bricks beneath my feet as Osmond took me away quickly down the alley, holding me steady as he walked over ice so I didn’t fall on my face when I slipped on the snow that spilled from the side of the buildings.

We made it to the curb where his truck was parked and left the sound of people behind us, the cold air and brisk wind sweeping away any traces of smoke. Osmond buckled me in when my shaky hands wouldn’t do it then was soon in his seat turning on the truck with the heater on full blast. I hunched as small as I could get with my hands over the heater, not warm yet as Osmond drove. He drove around town aimlessly but I didn’t care one way or another. I still felt shaky, like I’d been in an accident and barely walked away leaving a wreck behind me. Osmond reached over and took one of my hands in his. His hand was warm, comfortable even, but I had to resist the urge to jerk away from him.

“
Do you want to talk about it?” Osmond asked after a long silence stretched out as dark and bleak as the night outside the window.

“
About what?” I asked.

“
Did you see Valerie in the alley?” he asked.

I shook my head and shivered.

“
She looked at you like… I don’t know. She looked like you were responsible for it.”

My head snapped up and I stared at Osmond. He looked back at me with a slight frown on his warm face and I pulled my hand out of his grip.

“
I haven’t talked to Valerie since school started after Christmas break.”

“
I could feel the energy coming off you,” Osmond said quietly. “You were watching the movie, but I watched you. Something happened in that theater that only you saw, and it upset you enough that…” he trailed off.

“
You think I burned down the theater?”

He studied the road for a minute without saying anything. “I don’t know what happened; that’s why I’m asking you,” he finally said.

“
How should I know? I don’t know anything! I don’t know why I still haven’t figured anything out. I don’t know who I am, or what I want, or what’s going to happen, and I certainly don’t know why you wanted to take me on a date. I don’t know why I have to smell blood in a movie theater, or why I…” I faltered and didn’t ask why I hurt so much for someone I didn’t really know.

I shook my head and fought down the panic, the same close feeling I’d felt in the theater, on the sidewalk under the light.

I opened the door. Osmond slammed on the brakes and I managed to get my seatbelt off.

“
I’m going to walk home. I need the exercise. I’ll see you tomorrow at school. Good night, Osmond.” Osmond opened his mouth to protest but something in my face must have stopped him because he nodded and let me shut the door and turn away from the truck before the first tear trickled down my cheek.

I walked purposefully and tried not to slouch down like I wanted to collapse. That wasn’t brave and strong and Wild. I should be ripping up tile and reupholstering furniture, or saving the world with brilliant medical marvels. I should not be burning down movie theaters, if that had really been me. Was it possible? I sniffed and wiped my nose on my sleeve, wishing I had a tissue. In my screwed up world anything was possible. Everything bad was possible.