Blood Song (6 page)

Grace hugged Mary again, and released her to her waiting friends. Ethan remained seated as the room emptied. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but he felt driven to... what? He had no idea. His heart still pounded unnaturally.

He rose and moved quietly, with only human speed so as not to frighten her, to the center of the circle where Grace had bent to retrieve the pad from the floor. As she straightened and saw him standing in front of her, she gasped.

“You’re the angel in my dream,” Grace said. She backed away, dropped the pad, and pressed her palms to her face. “I must be in an altered state. You’re a figment of my imagination. Another bizarre element in an already screwed-up day. This vision will pass any minute now. I’ll keep on talking to myself until you vanish.”

“I’m sorry to startle you,” Ethan said softly. “And to disappoint you. I’m afraid I’m no angel.”
Not even close. Another dimension altogether.
His gaze locked on her brown eyes and he had to force himself not to entrance her. For some reason it seemed important that she speak to him of her own accord. He struggled to control the urge to touch her. It was clear his presence confused and frightened her. Her fear rode the air.

Grace dropped her hands and stared at him. She reached out a finger and poked his chest. “You’re real.” Obviously rattled, she retreated another step, blinked a couple of times, and shook her head. “I’m so sorry. You must think I’m incredibly rude and very strange. I’m not myself immediately after a sound healing session. My brain waves don’t return to normal right away. For a moment, you reminded me of... someone I’ve seen before. The resemblance is uncanny.” She stopped talking and stared again for a few seconds. Anxiety shadowed her features.
“Have
we met before? Was this your first sound circle? You really do seem very familiar.”

He heard Grace’s heart speed up even more, so he sent a light relaxation command. After a few seconds, she inhaled a deep breath and released it. Her rhythm slowed. How could he possibly seem familiar to her? He’d erased himself from her mind.

Deciding it might be wise to change the subject temporarily so as not to make her any more uncomfortable, he said, “I wanted to tell you how moved I was by your session. I’ve never seen anyone heal with sound before. I’m impressed.” He added another subtle, mental nudge, suggesting she would feel at ease with him. Trust him. He wasn’t trying to manipulate her, only to allow a bond to form. He might tell her the truth eventually, but not yet.

“Thank you.” She gave a gentle nod and visibly calmed. “I sometimes forget how unusual sound healing is to the rest of the world. I’m so used to doing it that it seems very normal to me.” She offered her hand. “I’m Grace Blackburn.” Then she cocked her head, inviting him to introduce himself.

Ethan grasped her hand. “Ethan...” He paused, unaccustomed to using his last name. In the vampire world nobody used surnames. “Ethan James.” He hoped his skin was still sufficiently warm from his last meal the night before so she wouldn’t notice the coolness of his grip. Sometimes the “buzz,” as the bloodsuckers called it, lasted a day or more. She gave no indication of discomfort.
Why don’t I feel the blood lust? I’m definitely in a parallel universe.
“Do you have a few minutes to talk? I’d really like to hear more about your healing techniques.”

A beautiful smile spread her lips. “I’d love to talk to you... uh, about the sound healing. It isn’t often I meet such a handsome man.” She paused, her eyes wide. “Geez. Did I say that out loud? I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me tonight. I don’t usually connect with new people so easily. Especially men...”

Ethan laughed, feeling suddenly elated. “I’m happy to be the exception.”
What am I doing, laughing like an idiot? She’ll be disgusted and repelled as soon as she finds out what I am. What the hell is happening to me?

Grace nodded toward a small couch against the wall. “Why don’t we sit and make ourselves comfortable?”

Ethan grinned. His idea of being comfortable with a beautiful woman used to involve a lot less clothing. Having a clear visual memory of Grace’s nude body wasn’t helping the situation. But sitting together was a good start. Though it wasn’t likely he’d be taking her home to his cardboard box, who knew what might happen? It had been ages since he’d been so attracted to anyone. Apparently, he still had a weakness for the occasional blonde. He bowed. “Excellent idea. After you.”

“What you did tonight was extraordinary,” Ethan went on after they sat. “How can you be sure the woman’s illness is gone? Can you sense it?” He stared at her face, noticing the curve of her lips, the blush of her cheeks, every individual eyelash. He could swear her nipples were hard.
She’s even more beautiful than I remembered.

“Hmmm. Gorgeous
and
smart.” She rolled her eyes and grinned. “Yikes. Once again, sorry. My mouth seems to have a mind of its own around you. I’ll go ahead and apologize in advance for anything else I might blurt out. But to answer your question, yes. I can sense it. Sort of. Okay, this is going to sound weird, but it’s as if I can feel the obstructions—or misalignments—in the body or the psyche as the sound flows around and interacts with them. Then, I imagine the disruption smoothed out by the vibrations and it seems to happen.” She paused. “Now you probably think I’m a complete weirdo! A freak. Not a normal person, right? You wouldn’t be the first.”

He frowned.
She doesn’t think she’s normal?
Wait ’til she gets a load of me.
“I think you’re incredible. I wish I had your skills. I used to sing and play music years ago, but I never explored the healing aspects. Your talent fascinates me.” He sensed a change in her mood.
What’s up? She’s gone all anxious again.

“I’ve worked hard to build up my skills.” Twisting her hands in her lap, she shrugged. “I think anyone can heal with sound. It’s natural. You can do it, too.” She blinked a few times and stared at him, tilting her head. “I don’t remember if you ever answered my question about whether or not we’ve met before. I swear I know your face. In fact, I’m sure I dreamed about it. Your green eyes–”

This was it. He’d run out of time to avoid the inevitable. He sighed, bracing for her horrified reaction. “What did you dream?”

“There you are, Grace.” A tall, Eastern Indian man wearing a white turban hurried over to the couch and nodded to each of them, before refocusing on her. “Ready to go? We’ll be late for the recording session. Come on, I’m double-parked outside.”

Grace shifted her gaze back and forth between Ethan and the new arrival. “Oh, yes, Nadu. I’m coming. Go ahead. I’ll be right there.”

The man bowed and left the room.

“Actually, I
did
forget about the recording.” Grace gave a half-smile. “I guess it was the company.” She stood and moved across the room. “I would like to tell you about my dream, if you’re really interested. Maybe we could...”

“Get together another time?” He rose and followed her to the exit. “Absolutely. I’ll drop by again soon.”
I don’t want to talk about the dream, but maybe I can find a way to distract you.

Their gazes locked for a few seconds. He wondered again how her lips would taste.

“I look forward to it.”

“Where ya been, man?” Nelson asked, his face serious, the corner of his lip twitching. He shifted his weight back and forth from one foot to another. “Alexander was pissed that he couldn’t find you. I told him you needed some alone time and he nearly split a gut laughing. He said if you want alone time, he can arrange your true death, then you’ll have all the alone time you want. He needs us out on patrol. He said there are lots of newbies roaming the streets. Shit, dude. Don’t bail on me like that again.”

Nelson’s right. I shouldn’t have taken off. I know how Alexander likes to use us to hurt each other.
The sadistic bastard.
“I’m sorry, man. Leaving was selfish of me.” Ethan punched him lightly on the arm. “Am I forgiven?”

“Sure.” Nelson threw his shoulders back and raised his chin, making an unsuccessful effort to mask the Alexander-inspired fear. “If you do it again, I’ll have to kick your ass.”

“Deal.” They bumped fists. “So, where to?”

“You need to ask?”

“You’re shittin’ me. Again?” Alexander liked to assign them to the busiest part of town—the bars along the west end near the foothills. The Master didn’t choose the location because Ethan and Nelson would do a good job. Not even close. He gave them the hardest route—filled with brain-dead newbies trolling for blood—because he liked doling out punishments when humans inevitably got killed on their watch.

Ethan looked up at the full moon and noticed the hazy ring around it. That was a bad sign, but he wasn’t going to say anything to Nelson, who tended to worry enough for both of them. “Lead the way, my friend. Let the games begin.”

“Yeah, what fun.” Nelson deadpanned and shoved his hands into his jeans pockets.

Keeping to the shadows as much as possible, they prowled along buildings and crouched behind cars until they reached the alley running near the noisy clubs.

They’d barely staked out a position alongside a dumpster, when a woman’s scream pierced the air. They bolted toward the ear-curdling shriek.

A short, thin female wearing only an oversize bloody University of Colorado T-shirt, struggled with a much taller woman dressed in bicycle-racing clothes—spandex tights, cropped shirt featuring the logo for an energy drink, cycling shoes and a neon-orange helmet—trying to hold her still for neck biting. “Help me!” The bicyclist’s screams ended abruptly with a choking sound as the vampire struggled to rip the helmet off her head, but couldn’t because it was fastened with a strong chin strap. The victim fought against the rabid bloodsucker, making gurgling noises as she tried to breathe. Finally giving up on the strap, the attacker threw the woman to the ground and ripped into the vein in her arm.

Nelson leaped on the vampire. He pulled her off, and held her in a steel grasp while Ethan hefted the cyclist—who’d passed out by this time from shock and blood loss—into his arms and ran farther down the alley. He found an unlocked car door, opened it and thrust his passenger inside.

Nelson struggled to subdue his prisoner, who was now flailing and making loud “Gah! Gah! Gah!” sounds, while blood dripped from her fangs. Ethan ran back to help.

“Damn, man,” Nelson said, momentarily losing his grip on the newbie and then regaining it. “This is one wild little blood-seeking missile. Kinda cute, though. Too bad she has to die.”

“Let me grab her feet, while you turn her face around and hypnotize her into submission.” Ethan closed the distance between him and the woman and she went crazy, managing to propel herself out of Nelson’s arms and onto Ethan. The force of her leap took him down with her. She latched onto his shoulder, stuck her fangs in and sucked.

“Hey! What the fuck?!” Ethan yelled. “Nelson, get this thing off me! She’s actually drinking my blood!”

Nelson pounced on the small woman, and angled his arm around her neck to force her mouth from Ethan’s shoulder.

Ethan rolled away, and then jumped to his feet. Nelson wrestled the newbie onto her back, then restrained her wrists over her head with one hand while he straddled her hips. Sniffing the air, he leaned down toward her mouth, which still kept up a constant stream of obscenities while she kicked her legs. “That’s weird. I don’t smell your blood on her. Only human.”

Nelson grabbed her by the hair with his free hand and stared into her eyes. Every muscle in her body went slack, and her head flopped to the side.

“What the fuck just happened?” Ethan rubbed the already closing gashes on his skin. “Hasn’t Mordecai taught his minions not to drink from other vampires?” He looked down at himself. “Damn. She trashed my T-shirt.”

Nelson released the woman’s limp wrists and sat up, frowning. “That’s really bizarre, man.” His voice shook.

“What’s bizarre?” Ethan crouched down next to Nelson, confused about what had his friend so freaked. Was Nelson having some kind of breakdown? He wouldn’t be surprised. All that constant anxiety had to take some kind of negative toll.

Nelson lifted his nose into the air and sniffed again, his nostrils flaring. “Let me smell your shoulder.”

“What?” Ethan leaped to his feet. “You want to smell me? Now
that’s
fuckin’ weird.”

Nelson slowly rose. “I know what your blood smells like. I’ve been covered in it often enough when we’ve fought these vampo-zombies together.” He looked down at the woman. “I saw her suck blood from your shoulder. She has it all over her mouth and chin.”

“Yeah, so?”

Nelson’s eyes narrowed. “So, all I smell is human blood—several different kinds from her recent victims—her own blood, a little of mine from where she scratched me, and nothing else. Your blood isn’t there.” He stared at Ethan. “Come on, man. Help me out here. What’s happening?”

Wow. Nelson is obviously losing his mind. But, no. That can’t be it.
He isn’t old enough to mentally fragment.
“I don’t know, Nelson. Why does it matter if you can pick out my blood? What’s the difference?”

Nelson lunged, grabbed the shoulder of Ethan’s T-shirt, and breathed in. “Fuck, Ethan!”

“Hey! Get your hands off me!” Ethan stared into his friend’s frightened eyes.