Her Blood Sings: Episode 01 (6 page)

Then his fist connected with her face.

***

Evie woke up gasping. Dan's angry words still
rang in her ears. She kicked the covers and sat up. She hugged her
legs, trying to make herself as small as possible. The day was just
about starting. She was shaking. What a crappy way to start the
day.

A top 40 radio was blasting from Evie's
downstairs neighbor's apartment. She didn't know which one of them
liked to start the day with music, but Evie appreciated that now.
She'd probably start crying if there was nothing but silence in her
bedroom.

Evie took a deep breath and held on to her
security blanket: her routine. She splashed water on her face and
brushed her teeth. She packed a fresh change of clothes and the
stuff she'd need for her trip to the library in her backpack
because she wouldn't have time to come home and change for work.
She had a cup of coffee and a bowl of cereal before she left for
the day. Evie'd assumed the trip to Moonlight would make her feel
better. Apparently, it hadn't.

She was pretty much on autopilot until she
was on the treadmill, putting that restless energy to good use
while loud music blasted from her earbuds right into her skull.

Someone tapped Evie's arm.

It was Jon.

He was smiling brightly at her. A wave of
relief washed over Evie. Jon was like her mom's chicken soup,
listening to her dad singing and curling up with her favorite novel
all rolled up into one tall and handsome package. They were on the
treadmill together, side by side.

"Hey, stranger." She removed her earbuds and
smiled back. "Haven't seen you in a while."

"I've been busy." Jon said. He was pre-Med.
He tended to disappear from time to time. "How are you?"

"Good," Evie lied. And because she didn't
want to talk about her and she needed to get this out of the way,
she asked, "How's Natalie?"

Jon's smile slipped from his lips and eyes.
Evie knew Natalie didn't like her. She even knew why. Jon and Evie
committed the unforgivable crime of going out on one date freshman
year. It made no difference that they were just friends now and
that he and Natalie had been together for two years. Natalie seemed
to think Evie was one breath away from stealing him from her at any
given time. Evie thought the whole thing was stupid and she didn't
think Natalie was worthy of Jon, but if he loved her, Evie had
better keep her feelings to herself and be a good-

"We broke up," he said.

Evie almost tripped on her treadmill. She
slowed it down, going from a jog to a power walk. It gave her a
much-needed moment to kill her joyous smile. This was the first
piece of good news in a while. Still, Jon probably needed her
support. She had to act like this was the worst thing to ever
happen to anyone, anywhere.

"Oh, Jon, I'm so sorry," Evie said. "I know
how much she meant to you."

And that's why Evie never got Natalie's
jealousy. Jon was the best boyfriend ever. He never said or did
anything that could give her reason to doubt him. He would even
refrain from hanging out with Lucy, Tamara, and Evie from time to
time.

Evie promised herself she'd be a good friend
and lend him a shoulder to cry on. She'd wait until she was alone
to do a happy dance.

But instead of heartbroken, Jon seemed to be
taking it all in stride. He just shrugged and sighed.

"We were sort of doomed from the get-go." He
didn't look at Evie. He kept his eyes on the spot of wall in front
of him. "I can see that now."

"I lied to you." That caught his attention.
Jon looked at her. "I had a nightmare."

And because they'd been friends for four
years, Evie didn't have to tell Jon what the nightmare had been
about.

"Are you OK?"

"I'm getting there." She had an idea. "What
are you doing today?"

"Studying at the library. You?"

"The same." She gave him a smile and batted
her eyelashes. "Want to ditch studying and binge watch action
movies at my place? We can call Lucy and Tamara, order pizza, have
ice cream, you know. The full breakup package."

He smiled brightly again, but it faded away
too fast. "I can't. I had a bad week and I need to catch up."

"Oh, OK." Evie tried to smile, but she was a
little disappointed. She loved binge watching stuff with Jon. "Some
other time, then."

"Tomorrow?"

She brightened up. "Sure."

Evie powered down the treadmill while she and
Jon made plans. They'd go to the supermarket together. Evie planned
on pampering him rotten.

She was exchanging texts with Lucy and
Tamara, getting them on board before she left the gym. After her
nightmare, Evie had braced herself for a crappy day. She smiled at
the feeble December sun; feeling about a hundred times happier than
she had just an hour before.

***

Evie studied for most of the morning and well
into the afternoon.

That sense of feeling restless stayed out of
her radar for most of the time she was at the library, but it came
back full force when Evie left school. She was hyper aware of her
surroundings all the time. She kept looking around. She tried to
come up with alternative exits wherever she went. Every moment felt
like that instant right before Dan hit her. Her mind was working
overtime and, as a result, she was running out of steam halfway
through her day. Not to mention the crippling sense of paranoia.
Fun times!

Evie was on her bus seat, her e-reader in her
hands, but she couldn't stand still. Her leg shook. The guy sitting
next to Evie gave her a nasty glare. Evie slapped her hand on her
knee, urging her leg to stand still. It didn't. She started looking
around. She had no idea what she was looking for. All she knew was
that something was off.

Then, she saw them. Three guys were sitting
in the back, talking and laughing - not really interacting with
anyone else. They were speaking in a language that she could almost
recognize. Spanish? Portuguese, maybe? They looked like tourists.
Who came to Thunder Bay to visit? It was a small town. There were
other obvious tourist magnets around.

One of them noticed Evie staring. He stopped
talking and turned to her, his smile dying on his lips when he saw
the look on her face. He nudged his friend to the right.

Evie turned around, pretending she hadn't
been staring.

Get it together
,
Evie
. She told
herself.
You can do it. Just take a deep breath... or
ten.

Her leg stopped shaking but she started
slamming the heel of her boot on the floor, keeping a techno-like
beat. The guy sitting next to her was beyond annoyed at this point.
He gave her several dirty looks, and a downright glare, until Evie
managed to stop.

Then, she started tapping her finger on her
thigh. Evie took a few more deep breaths and played some soothing
music on her iPod. She rested her head against the window and
closed her eyes. It started working. She was getting there. It
would all be-

Her heart pounded in her chest. Her eyes
jerked open.

She got that tingling feeling right under her
skin.

What was going on? Is this what a panic
attack felt like? Was she depressed? Was it an extreme case of
holiday blues? Was it the anniversary of Dan's attack? Whatever it
was, Evie wanted it fixed.

The bus stopped and the doors opened, but no
one came in. It felt like the inside of the bus had grown hotter,
but Evie shivered. People looked around, confused. The bus driver
slammed the door shut and the bus started moving. She almost caught
something out of the corner of her eyes. Shapes moving. Evie turned
around, startled. There was nothing there.

The tourist who had caught her staring was
now staring back at her. His eyes darted to the empty spot she'd
been staring at.

Something snapped inside Evie.

She couldn't stay on the bus anymore. If she
did, she'd have a heart attack or she'd start screaming her head
off.

The bus stopped at a red light. She got up
and walked to the driver.

"Can you open the door for me, sir?"

He gave her a funny look. Evie must look as
crazy as she felt.

"I-I'm feeling sick. I need to get off."

When he did nothing but stare at her, Evie
started dry-heaving like she was about to revisit last night's
dinner. The driver's eyes went wide. All conversation stopped. On
the third try, her most dramatic heave possible, the driver's arm
jerked and he slammed a hand on the button that controlled the
door. It hissed to life and sprang open. Evie jumped out of the bus
just as the light turned green. The driver called her a dirty name
or two and drove away.

Evie looked around, trying to see where she
was. Up to that point she'd been too focused on what was happening
inside the bus to really take in her surroundings. She was close
enough to the café that she could walk, even in this weather, but
it was still far enough to be a chilling exercise.

"Why didn't I pick a college in a tropical
area?" She said to herself. "Aruba would be amazing this time of
year."

Evie started considering ditching work,
school, everything she knew, and escaping to Aruba to open a little
scuba-diving store, meet a nice, hot local guy and have a thousand
little babies. Her mind wandered back to the hot guy she had met at
Moonlight. Sure he had creeped her out - but everything in that
nightclub had freaked her out to some degree. And even though he
had freaked her out, she still wanted to jump him. She allowed
herself a precious moment to fantasize having her way with that guy
on the hot sands of Aruba - the sun on her skin and his pretty,
blonde head between her legs.

A gust of icy wind hit Evie in the face,
sending a shiver down her spine. She shrank under her coat and
walked a little faster to work.

Chris was up first thing in the evening,
kicking the covers away like they were on fire.

He had spent all day thinking of Miss Not
Interested. He had even dreamed of her. This was wrong. She should
be the one doing the dreaming. She should have been thanking her
lucky stars that Chris had ever walked into her life and gave her
the best night of her life. She should be thinking of Chris when
she was old and gray and on her deathbed. He should not be thinking
of her. At all.

Well, that was
, she had said to him,
huffing in exasperation,
pointless and weird
.

Chris's lips curled into a smile. Her cheeks
had been pink back then her eyes were wide and bright. He
remembered her face when she was on the dance floor. She had looked
so happy, so oblivious of everyone and everything. It had felt like
it was just her on the dance floor. But that wasn't true. He had
been there, watching her. That girl could move. Just thinking about
her hips swaying and her tossing her hair back made Chris's cock
twitch to life. Damn! He wished he had banged her.

He took a long, cold shower. Chris refused to
take care of business himself. It might be pride, but he had never
had to before. He wouldn't start now. Besides, this was penitence.
He shouldn’t let some mortal girl get to him like that. She might
smell great, like lavender and something spicy and sweet, and she
might-

Chris ripped his suitcase open. He dumped the
now two halves of his suitcase, his mind snapping to here and now.
He looked at the two halves with disgust. He hadn't lost control of
his strength since he had been turned. He ran his hands through his
hair. He had to find out what was wrong with this girl. He couldn’t
keep spinning out of control like this.

He picked up a pair of jeans and a clean
T-shirt and put them on without bothering with shoes just yet.
Chris cast a glance at his sneakers. He might end up going for a
run to spend some pent-up energy.

Someone knocked on his door.

He was there, in the living room area and
opening the door, in a flash. Even by vampire standards, Chris
moved faster than usual. Maybe Elliot had found something good on
this girl. Maybe Miss Not Interested had hit her head when she was
a kid and she got some magical brain damage, like that kid from
Stephen King’s
The Dead Zone
.

But Chris didn’t find his brother’s face on
the other side of the door. It was Darcy. Chris deflated a
little.

Darcy's smile wavered.

“Is everything OK, son?”

“Yes, sir.” Darcy talked and his children
snapped into action. It was only partially the blood thing. Mostly,
it was because he was that respectable. “I just thought you were
Elliot. We had plans.” Chris tried to look carefree. “What can I do
for you?”

“You could let me in.”

Chris let out a little
oh
sound that
was half excuse, half embarrassment and made way for his maker.
Darcy walked into the room and moved around, taking reign of the
place. He wandered into Chris's bedroom and spotted the torn
suitcase. He gave Chris an amused look.

“I-I had a little accident.”

“I can see that.”

Chris watched Darcy do a full circle, making
a show of it. Darcy wanted to know what was going on but he’d wait
for Chris to tell him. He wouldn’t ask. He was entitled to know
what was going on with his progeny. Asking would imply that his
children had a choice in the matter. Chris wondered what Darcy had
been like with his real children, before he had been sired. Chris
would bet he'd put the fear of God in them.

Chris was painfully aware of the rumpled
sheets on his bed, the TV still on and three books abandoned on the
table. He sighed in defeat. If someone might know what was going
on, it was Darcy. He might as well come out and say it.

“I met this girl last night,” Chris looked at
his father, trying to gauge what was going on in his head. Darcy,
true to their nature, gave nothing away. “And she resisted my
glamour.”