Blood Song (7 page)

Nelson let go and backed away. “What the hell’s going on with your blood? It smells...
human
. But that’s impossible.” His lips were pressed in a tight, quivering, thin line.

Damn! Is Nelson losing it?
“Really, man. Cool your jets. You’re starting to wig me out. Talk to me. Why does the fact that you can’t isolate my blood scare you?”

“I don’t know. I have a really bad feeling.”

Ethan noticed a fine trembling in Nelson’s hands. The poor guy had been so traumatized as a human it was astounding he’d survived the turning process without even more side effects. If he was having a burnout, somehow they had to keep that knowledge from Alexander.

“Okay. Wait.” Ethan grabbed the bloody part of his T-shirt and pressed it against his nose. “See? It’s my same old vampire blood...” He sucked in air, then his breath caught.
What the fuck?
It wasn’t the same. He sniffed again, and then licked a saturated portion with his tongue. Not his blood. He smelled his hand where he’d pressed against the newbie’s bite wounds in his neck. Startled, his head jerked up and his wide-eyed gaze met Nelson’s. His mind spun.
Did the newbie have some kind of poison in her saliva? Did she pollute my blood?
“What’s going on, Nelson? Did that vampo-zombie do something to me?”

Nelson jumped to his feet and backed away. “I dunno, dude, but this isn’t good. You’re flippin’ me out. You don’t smell like yourself anymore. Does anything hurt?”

Ethan thought for a moment and patted himself down. “No. I feel like I always do. Dead.”

“Fuck, Ethan. I’m whacked. What if there’s some new threat to vampires and you’re the first casualty? We need to tell Alexander—”

“No!” Ethan cut him off. Alexander would simply destroy both of them if anything threatened his dynasty. “Let’s think for a minute. Maybe whatever the newbie did to me will wear off soon. So far, the only change is that my blood smells different.”

“Yeah. Like you’re human. Do you know what that means? It means other vampires will attack you for your blood. They won’t realize you’re a vampire.”

“Okay, I guess that’s a possibility—if this situation is permanent. And it probably isn’t. I mean, how
could
it be? I haven’t been human for forty years. Nothing I’ve ever heard of could restore me from death...” He stopped and stared off as something impossible occurred to him. A strange, niggling suspicion. Chills rushed through his body as he remembered how odd his behaviors had been since encountering Grace and how she’d affected him. He’d watched her heal the dying woman. Somehow she’d
changed
him. He felt it.

But it couldn’t be. There was no such magic. Was there?

Nelson’s frightened pleas faded as Ethan bolted away into the night.

“Thanks, Nadu. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Grace unlocked her sound studio and stepped inside. She flicked on the lights and walked through the spacious main area to her private office in the back. She’d set up the room as a comfortable place where she could regroup between students or sessions. A combination office and dressing area, the space held a comfortable couch, a desk for her computer and other equipment, cabinets for files and supplies, a small refrigerator filled with bottled water, and a recently installed shower. Various percussion instruments dotted her shelves. An electronic keyboard and several guitars lined another wall. It was her home away from home.

Appreciating the quiet, she finished up a huge pile of paperwork she’d been avoiding, forcing herself to stay on task. After she finished the last form, she placed it on top of the pile and glanced at the clock. 1 a.m.
Fuck
.
Too late to go home
. She stretched her neck back and forth.
Looks like another night on the couch.

She’d barely taken off her shoes when her cell phone rang. She fished it out of her purse and read the caller ID.

“Hey, Roz. What’s up? What are you doing up so late—or so early?”

“I read Tarot at a private party up in the mountains and they didn’t want me to leave. They kept throwing money at me.” She chuckled. “When I got home, I had the feeling you were still working at the studio, so I decided to check on you. You’ve been on my mind. Strange visuals floating around in my brain. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just tired. It was a long day.”
It’s been the demented yellow brick road.
“How about you? What have you been up to?”

“No way, my slippery friend. We’re not switching the subject to me. I want to talk about you. I know something’s going on. It’s been bugging me all day. Something about a guy. Usually I’d be excited about that, thinking it’s a great thing, but I get a real mixed vibe about this one. He seems okay, but then there’s something weird about his energy. Really, Grace. Level with me. What’s going on?”

Grace was seriously tempted to talk to Roz about the fact that Ethan—the angel from her dream—showed up at her sound session earlier, but she really didn’t want to spoil the one good friendship she had in town. Having at least one person who didn’t think she was crazy was nice. But that was only because Roz didn’t know everything.

Should she take the chance? After all, Roz was pretty
unique
herself. Maybe it was time to be courageous. And if Roz was picking up something about Ethan, Grace wanted to hear it.

Deciding to take the risk, she jumped in. “As a matter of fact, something strange
did
happen today. Remember I told you I had a dream about an angel? The gorgeous guy with dark hair, brilliant green eyes and a body to die for?”

“Yeah. He sounded yummy. I had dream envy. Go on.”

“Well, he showed up today, wearing a Jimi Hendrix T-shirt instead of a Rolling Stones T-shirt, but it was the same guy.”

“Whoa! Wait a minute. You’re saying the guy you dreamed about showed up today? In the flesh?”

“Yep. And better looking than I remembered. But the moment he came over to me, I started acting weird.”

“What do you mean? Weirder than usual? You get pretty spacy after a sound session.”

“Definitely non-ordinary. Uninhibited. I started blurting out things. My lips kept flapping and whatever was on my mind flew right out of my mouth without any thought. You know I never do that. I’m rarely chatty in general, much less after finishing a healing circle. And never with men. It was like I suddenly turned into a gushing extrovert. And I
flirted
!”

“Oh, my God! You
flirted
?” She paused. “Grace, we’ve been friends since you moved to Boulder and I love you. I’ve never pushed you to tell me why you avoid men and seem anxious around them. I figured, like most women, you’ve had your share of traumas. You’ve been consistently closed up around guys. I know something bad happened. So, if you flirted with a man you just met, something strange is going on.”

“I know, right? I’m like a different person around him. He felt so familiar, as if I’d known him forever. Like I’ve been waiting for him.”

“Sounds like a past-life connection to me. Twin souls.”

“Maybe. I can’t believe how he affected me.” Grace sank back into the couch cushions.

“So, are you saying he
rocked your world
?” She said the last three words in her fake Gypsy accent.

Roz had told her months ago she’d meet a man who would rock her world. “Yes, oh great and powerful Roz. You were on-target. I was thoroughly and completely rocked.”
And aroused beyond belief.

“It’s gratifying to be right, but we don’t know what’s up with this guy’s energy. I’m not sure if I’m happy for you or not.”

“What have you been picking up?” Roz might be a little eccentric, but she was an accurate psychic.

“I’m not certain,” Roz mumbled. “I keep getting visuals of a dark-haired man who’s between worlds.”

“Between worlds? What does
that
mean?”

“I really don’t know, Grace. I’ve never experienced anything like that before. Let me do an official reading, and I’ll call you in the morning—or later in the morning. I don’t want to give you any feedback until I have a better grasp on whatever this is. So far it feels...
slippery
.”

Grace tensed. “You mean he’s dangerous—I shouldn’t see him?” She didn’t like the sound of that at all. He hadn’t
felt
dangerous...

“No. Or at least I don’t think so. He seems like a good guy, but there’s something...”

“Well, for all I know I’ll never see him again, so this is probably a non-issue.” A wave of sadness washed through her. “I’m going to sleep here. I’m really tired.” Grace yawned. “Thanks so much for being a good friend, Roz.”

“You know you can come over and stay with me tonight if you want to. I worry about you. Something’s
off
.”

“No. I’m okay. Don’t worry. Let’s get together tomorrow. Bye, Roz.”

“Ciao, Grace. We’ll figure this out.”

The moment Grace clicked off her phone, the studio door opened and footsteps pounded across the wooden floor.

“Grace!”

She recognized the voice. “Ethan?”

He stomped into the room, his shirt torn and bloody, and froze in front of her. “What have you done to me?”

Her mouth fell open. She didn’t know if she was more shocked by his sudden appearance, his bloody clothes or the strange question. It took her a few seconds to find her voice. “Ethan!” She pointed at his ravaged and stained shirt. “What happened to you? Are you all right? You look like you’ve been attacked by a wild animal.” She stood and took a step toward him, not sure if she should call an ambulance or run to the business next door for help.

As if he hadn’t been aware of his appearance until she mentioned it, he looked down at himself then met her gaze. “I
was
attacked.”

“Oh, my God! You need medical attention. Let’s get you to the hospital—”

“No. That’s not the problem.”

“What are you talking about? Of
course
it’s the problem.” She grabbed her purse and started tugging him toward the front door, having decided to go to the neighbor, who was a chiropractor. “You’re covered with blood. Your skin is pale. You’ve been hurt.”

He clutched her upper arms and she dropped her bag. “We need to talk.” His voice sounded shaky and thick.

She gasped, surprised by his sudden move and the strength of his grip on her arms, and studied the green eyes she’d found so beautiful before. Now they seemed wild and frightening. “Ethan, let me go. We need help.” Fear clenched her stomach. She didn’t really know the man bleeding in her studio, and what about her own safety? Why had this virtual stranger burst in? She’d only had a brief discussion with him after the sound session. He could be a criminal—a sexual predator or a serial killer—for all she knew. Just because he was good-looking and she’d considered jumping his bones didn’t mean he wasn’t a threat to her. She took a couple of deep breaths and imagined sending a calming tone through her body. As the phantom sound flowed through her, she relaxed. “Okay.” She forced her voice to remain steady and her breathing normal. “Let’s sit down and talk.”
Maybe I can explode his head if I need to, although that didn’t work very well with the creature in my dream.

They sat on Grace’s office couch.

“It’s happening again. Right now,” Ethan said. “That strange, drowsy feeling whenever I’m around you. The brain melt. It’s like you have some kind of mystical energy that’s transforming me—turning me into a half-thing.”

Holy shit
.
What is he talking about? What if he really is a mental case?
She’d fallen into the trap of thinking her little town was safe and she’d foolishly left her studio door unlocked. Maybe if she kept talking to him quietly, he’d turn back into the rational man he appeared to be earlier today.

“A half-thing?”
Is the poor man delusional? Maybe his attendance at the sound session had the opposite effect and instead of healing, it disrupted? Aggravated his mental state?
The smell of blood was strong in the room, and the beginnings of a headache throbbed at the base of her skull.

“I know I’m making you nervous and giving you a headache, but you need to explain what’s going on.” Ethan peeled his shirt over his head and tossed it onto the floor. “Sorry about the smell.”

How did he know about my headache?

“Grace, I’m going to tell you the truth, and I need you not to freak out. But if you
do
start to lose it, I’m going to use some of my powers to cool your jets.”

His powers? Oh, no. He’s really out there. Can I reach my cell phone?

She studied his chest. The skin under the bloody slashes in his shirt gleamed back with pale perfection. No wounds or scratches. But how could that be? She clearly remembered seeing the torn fabric.

Did I see it? Maybe I hallucinated...

“I could feel your headache, and your anxiety about how I
knew
you had a headache. And your nervousness in general because I showed up out of the blue looking like a mad thing. Knowing stuff is one of my talents,” he said in answer to the question she hadn’t asked him. “And since you’re still uptight, I’m going to send a hypnotic suggestion to remain peaceful, no matter what weird things I say.”