Hotblood (23 page)

Read Hotblood Online

Authors: Juliann Whicker


Hi there. Mother, Satan. It’s not fair that you can throw me so far without having a fury.”

He took his time answering. “No, but you might have noticed that life isn’t exactly fair now, is it?”


Whatever,” I muttered, not wanting to get into a debate while his words came to me like we were both underwater or something.


I paid for my strength with tattoos. Every tattoo series imbues the person with skills. Strength, longevity, healing, I forget what all I’ve got on me. I got into the habit of getting tattoos, and I didn’t stop.” His voice was too loud, his tone too condescending.


Oh. So you’re a really traditional Wild. That’s comforting.” My stomach was knotted, like the pain wasn’t enough, now I needed nausea to go with it.


Wilds can do tattoos, everyone else can do different crap. We’re all more or less equal.” He said it in a way that made me think less equal is what he meant.


Oh. Excuse me, I think I’m going to throw up.” I got off the counter and made it to the small bathroom off the kitchen. After some time I stood up and looked in the mirror. My eye was swollen, along with my jaw. I ran a hand along my body, and it felt like maybe a few ribs were cracked. It hurt to breathe.

This was going to go over well at school. I threw up again, rinsed my mouth out, and washed my face. Then, I walked into the kitchen to the freezer and pulled out a steak to put on my eye. I grabbed another one and bit into it, not bothering to flinch away from my mother and Satan while they looked at me. Yep, I’m a monster. But apparently Satan’s capable of stopping me. All I have to do is try to eat him. I grinned at him, letting the blood run down my chin. My mother turned away, looking out the window, but Satan looked back at me with an odd expression on his face.


Dari,” he finally said. I kept looking at him. “You might not be quite aware of the rules of etiquette, but it’s not commonly considered good manners to eat people.”

I chewed my bite thoroughly before swallowing. “I’ll try to remember that.”

My mother looked at me, her calm composure back in place. “You aren’t going to be able to go to school for a few days.”


Fine.” I finished the steak and went to the sink, rinsing off my face under the faucet. I knew I was acting a little barbaric, but I didn’t care. What was the point when I’d actually bitten my own uncle, again? If I was a monster, fine. There wasn’t any point pretending now. I went upstairs and brushed my teeth for a really long time. I could still taste Satan’s blood in my mouth, sweeter than I’d expected with an acrid aftertaste, something like stale cigars. I brushed my teeth until my gums bled to drown his taste in my blood. I put away my toothbrush after I rinsed it until the pink was out of the bristles then looked up in the mirror at my face. Why me? Why did I have to go from soulless to monster? Where was normal? Where was nice and happy, the kind of girl who could go on a date with a guy without smelling his blood? I started to cry, but it hurt too much. Instead I went to bed then tried not to think.

The quiet of the night was broken by the sound of two distant tickings that got louder and louder in my head. What was that sound? I rolled over and moaned, wrapping my arms around my ribs. Had he mangled one of my internal organs? They would take me to a hospital, wouldn’t they? I put my pillow over my head, and for a few minutes that helped to drown out the sound, but after a while it got louder until I sat up in bed. I took a deep breath through my mouth to block out the smell of blood that accompanied the heartbeats. Oh yeah, this was great. I closed my eyes as I breathed shallowly through my mouth. When I was at my dad’s, I’d really lost it when I needed to hunt. Maybe smelling Harris hadn’t been part of a fury since there had been no real anger. Maybe this was Netherkind bloodlust. That would explain why I’d lost it with Satan and why I was attuned to the beating hearts of the nearest prey. I needed to taste death. Bloody steak was not enough; I would have to go hunting. Would I be able to find anything on this side of the river besides demons? There were always cats, but that idea made me shudder. It would be best to find a nice wild animal since a wild animal would know to run. I got out of bed and pulled on Devlin’s old sweatpants and my sneakers. After that I took my long knife and tucked it in my dad’s bag. I moved through the house gracefully, silently, already prepared to hunt. I didn’t take a breath through my nose until I had carefully closed the sliding glass door behind me.

I ran faster than I’d ever moved before. As I flew over the ground, I sensed things ahead of me without quite seeing them, almost like I could smell or hear branches and bushes. As fast as I went, there wasn’t crashing through underbrush, instead, it was the thud, thud of my feet in the dirt, beating along with my heart— fast and hard against my chest. While I ran, I didn’t feel the pain in my body; the pain didn’t matter. All that mattered was the chase. I smelled something so overpowering that I tripped for a moment sliding on my hands in the loose debris before I scrambled back to my feet and ran, not minding the branches that whipped my face and arms.

I came out in a clearing then saw, by whatever light the night leant me, a shadow spread over the ground. It rose, towering over me, and I felt my legs turn to jelly. It was him. No one else smelled like that, like death, so sweet as it came for me. What was he going to do to me? I wished desperately for a shadow to cover my pale face as he came closer to me while he smelled too rich and dark for me to resist. I leapt into the darkness. I felt like I’d fallen into a drizzly day, only it was a warm wet that wrapped around me and made breathing difficult. I didn’t need to breathe; he was so close, but I couldn’t find him. I lost awareness of most of my body except for the whisper in a distant part of my head that said the pain in my face and ribs wasn’t so bad.

The mist faded away, and I blinked and realized that my back had a branch or rock digging into it. I seemed to be lying on the ground, but I didn’t remember that happening. I blinked and heard the voice of the embodied darkness.


You should probably hunt something you can actually kill.” The voice assaulted my capacity for rational thought. He was speaking English. I couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or helpful.


If you weren’t hiding in darkness, then maybe I could fight a monster like you.” My voice came out shrill as I struggled to sit up, but everything was reeling. It was the second time in one day I’d been knocked silly. At least he’d let me down easy.

He laughed and it was a sound like the wind ripping through a black night that tore right through me. I took a deep breath then sat up slowly. My ribs only twinged slightly. When I ran a hand over my face, the pain was less and the swelling had already gone down. “You fixed me?” I asked dumbly then a wave of fury followed. How dare he treat me with kindness when I was trying to destroy him?

He replied in an icy voice that lent my mind a little more rationality. “There’s not much pleasure in fighting someone who’s crippled, is there?”

The anger faded leaving me feeling more like a fool than ever. “So you’re going to fight me?” I asked looking up into the darkness.


I think that I’d like to lecture you first for a bit. The last time you went running in the woods you were nearly taken by demons. This time you attack someone who can disintegrate you while you are covered in injuries. What else did you attack that hurt you?”

I glared at him rubbing my cheek. It still felt slightly tender. “I attacked my mother. It was an accident. I didn’t really want to, but Satan was pushing me around trying to get me to fight and after what happened with Harris, I lost control. It wasn’t really Harris’ fault, it was Lewis for distracting me.” I shut my eyes and wondered why I was telling him about it. “Anyway, what do you care?”

It was quiet for a while, then I thought I heard a slight sigh before he said in a reasonable voice. “I’ve never met anyone like you. Perhaps I’m curious about how long I can keep you alive. Are you running away from home or simply looking for more demons?”

I scowled. “I am hunting! This knife is my hunting knife! If I hunt, I will taste death and not stay awake listening to my mother’s heartbeat. I’m not suicidal!” I couldn’t seem to stop yelling at him. I started talking in a reasonable voice but it kept rising to a shriek.

He didn’t seem to notice my temper. “Let’s find you some death then.” The darkness reached for me then I felt his hand in mine, solid flesh. He pulled me up, and after I tripped a few times, I got my legs to operate. When I heard the small heartbeat, the instincts took over. It felt so horribly good to move beside him. With my father, I’d always felt his disapproval. It kept things clean and efficient. The Nether laughed, and I felt a wave of euphoria. This hunting was different. It felt like sport. I ran faster, trying to outpace him, but my companion moved with me like we were one. It was over too soon, and after I’d come down from the rush of death, I was left feeling a new revulsion. I jerked my hand away from the monster, hating that I could forget what he was, that I could enjoy the part of me I could never accept. I felt stronger, but what was the point? I sat in the dirt next to cooling blood and broken body that had been alive a few moments before and let the self-hatred swamp me.


You should go home and rest now,” he said.

I shrugged. It didn’t matter if I was tired or not. I put my forehead on my knees and felt a sudden urge to throw myself into something until I was lying broken like this creature at my feet. How could I justify it? Maybe he wanted me to get stronger so I could hunt larger things, until I might actually be something like sport for this creature, this nightmare.


What are you doing here? What do you want with me? Are you going to kill me at some point? I wish you’d get it over with now.”

He was quiet for a long time. “I do not kill or hunt people like you.” There was something in his voice that made me sit up and lean away from him. He sounded like I’d insulted him or something.

I laughed and threw up my hands. “Great! Now everything makes perfect sense. Why don’t you explain it to me? My instincts are apparently less wholesome than yours, O creature of the night. You see I want to eat you. I want to rip open your chest and climb inside of you.” Yeah, that was pretty much the words that went with the abstract desire I’d felt when I’d attacked him so pathetically.


I’m flattered,” he said drily.

I sighed feeling deflated. “My father thinks you are terrifying.”


He wonders if my intentions are honorable. Rather,” he said musingly, “he wishes my intentions could be dishonorable.”


What’s that supposed to mean?”


He is worried that I will drag you into the Nether as my bride.” This time his voice sounded amused, the dark humor that was probably the only kind he had.

I felt like I’d been hit in the stomach. “You want to marry me?” My voice was a trembling shaky thing.


Only after you ripped out my heart, of course,” he responded.


Why not? What marriages don’t begin and end without heart ripping of some kind?” I said, still feeling breathless at the incomprehensible idea of a marriage with the Nether. I ignored the fact that I found the idea faintly appealing.


You need sleep. Are you going to walk home or do you want me to carry you?”

I scowled at him, trying to put the full weight of my angst into that look and struggled to my feet. As I walked, my body was heavier with every step like I’d just taken my dad’s potion. He made a sound like a curse, and then I was flying through the night wrapped in his darkness. I felt solid arms around me and felt whole. I think I struggled, but then I let myself drift until I found myself dropped unceremoniously on the grass in my mother’s back yard. I sat up and looked towards the woods, but the shadow had already gone. Somehow, I made it through the glass doors to the living room.

9 Smash and Jive

I opened my eyes and saw a pair of dark boots on the beige carpet. “The blood isn’t hers,” Satan’s unmistakable voice informed someone. “Hey, Dari, you’ve got to get to school. I think a shower is a good idea.”

I put my arm over my head to block out the sound of him, but he nudged me with his foot. “Okay, okay,” I mumbled and dragged myself to my knees. I squinted at him until my eyes adjusted to the light.


What happened to your face?” Satan asked then grabbed my chin. I jerked away. “How’d you do that?” he asked with some awe in his voice.

I touched my face again and remembered. I closed my eyes and almost felt the mist caress my cheek as it pulled out the pain. I started towards the shower, but Satan held me with his large hand on my shoulder. “Dari, that was a direct question.”


Satan, get your hand off my daughter.” My mother’s voice had more life in it than I’d heard for a long time. Satan’s hand dropped. “Dariana, go ahead and take a shower.” She gave me a smile as I passed, but it felt like she was still focused on Satan.

After I had washed, I examined my face in the mirror. There was still some bruising, but if I kept my hair over my face and my head down it would be barely noticeable. How had he done that? Maybe the bigger question was, why? If I remembered the conversation correctly, and I hoped I didn’t, I’d actually told him I wanted to climb inside of him, and he’d responded by telling me my dad was really frightened by the possibility of my running off with him. Why would I say something like that? He hadn’t seemed threatened though. Ok, what had happened? I attacked him, he healed me, then he took me hunting, I threatened him, and he took me home. Wow. That was like a date. I groaned and dragged a brush through my hair. I should be happy about it. I hadn’t been stolen by him, married, or whatever my dad was so worried about. He hadn’t acted like he really wanted me so what was he doing here?

Other books

Dragons Rising by Daniel Arenson
Murder In Chinatown by Victoria Thompson
Darkside Sun by Jocelyn Adams
Clear Light of Day by Penelope Wilcock
Dream Lover by Lynn Davis
Voices of the Dead by Peter Leonard