Hotblood (44 page)

“
Shall we go now?” I asked hearing my voice like it was a stranger’s.

She looked surprised, then nodded although I could feel her internal unease. I understood it when she said, “I go through the window, Old Peter gets Snowy, while you take off through the hole he blew through the wall. That’s the plan.”

It was a surprise to hear that the plan involved us going in separate directions. Something inside of my chest felt wrenched. “You’re going out the window, and I’m going out the hole in the wall? When will I see you again?” I asked to be sure.

She stood up straight and looked at me with a coldness her mother would have been proud of. “You don’t. This is where we end. Old Peter was right. Everything worked out exactly as it should have. You have your soul. You don’t need me. I have to be the Daughter of the House of Slide, so my mother doesn’t screw up her life even more than it already is. You’re Axel, and it’s time for you to go.”

For a second I felt agony at the idea of a separation, the ease with which she’d cut me out of her life. I struggled for a moment to breathe but with the pain came relief in knowing that she would be safe from me. If it took my misery to make her safe and happy then I would find pleasure in my misery. I gave her a wan smile and nodded.

“
All right. Thank you for rescuing me.” I studied her face, the way she looked so serious while her emotions were all in a tangle, the pull she felt towards me bewildering her. I was bewildered and I knew what to expect, being a little bit more experienced with life than she was. She had learned who I was, who knew what stories she’d heard about me. It would not be easy for her to trust me again. It was right for her not to trust me.

“
It has been the greatest pleasure I’ve ever had to know you.” I saw the doubt in her eyes, felt the confusion in her as she wanted to believe something so much. “Thank you for telling me to go. I couldn’t have done it on my own you know.” I probably shouldn’t have said that part. If she could be realistic about the unlikely possibility of our future then I, who was so much more jaded than she was, should be as well.

“
You did already,” she said, the tone of her voice snapping me out of my reverie.

I turned back to her, not sure what she needed to hear. “You seemed so certain a moment ago, so sure of your choices but now you’re angry?”

She gave me a look with heat in it, and I felt the anger coming off of her in waves. I loved it. “I’ve been angry ever since I saw your stupid portrait and realized how idiotic I’ve been this whole time. I thought you were a normal nice guy.”

I didn’t fight the half smile. I’d worked so hard playing my part but if she had any idea what normal meant she would never have been confused. “Normal?” She was so beautiful, defensive and angry, but so delicate and vulnerable. I had to get out of there while I still could, while her rejection was still somewhere in my head. “I don’t think I’ve ever been called that before. Thank you.”

“
You think it’s funny?” she snapped and I wondered if she’d hit me. “I had to watch you die, and I killed so many.” She bit her lip, and I wondered if it was going to bleed. Now was not a good time to have a fight. She swallowed and shook her head. “I stole your soul, but we’re even now. It’s all over.”

I nodded feeling like I was being ripped apart from the inside. This hurt more than anything Jason could ever do to me. “I lied to you,” I said hearing the thickness to my voice. “I am sorry. I am so sorry.” She climbed up to the window and perched on the ledge, trying not to cry, I could feel her trying not to cry. She took a deep breath and flipped out the gliders. I closed my eyes not wanting to see her do something so dangerous, something that might hurt her. “I love you.” The words came out however hard I tried to keep them back. I didn’t sound cool and unconcerned, I sounded like I couldn’t breathe, like I was dying. She turned to look at me, and the look on her face made me wish I’d known how to not say it. She didn’t need to know. It hurt her more to hear those words and doubt them. “I love you.” I stepped through the door and the feeling, the slight humiliation tied to abject misery made the handle break off in my hand when I shut it. I shook my head trying to clear it, to focus on the task at hand and began to run. I vaulted over the banister to the floor of the warehouse, pleased with the jolt of the landing. I needed to feel something besides the pain gnawing on my insides.

I paused as I took in the scene, the blood that striped Osmond where he panted beside Smoke. Smoke seemed to be holding out better than Osmond with swordplay. Snowy lay bound helplessly on the floor. They were fighting with Old Peter against Jason, the fearful cane whipping faster than Jason should have been able to move, but he had Luck, he had Leaning, he had Fury, and he’d been trained by me. I ran, and Jason looked up and saw me coming for him. His face lost its color, his eyes becoming the eyes of a cornered animal, his teeth bright as he gave me a smile that was tinged in madness. He tried to lean me, and I smiled back at him. His smile froze and he took in his options. I was steaming, heat shimmered off my skin. He couldn’t lean me, his options, which had been so fantastic a few moments before were dissolving before his eyes. He looked at me and with a near apologetic shrug dodged past Old Peter’s guard and brought his sword down, piercing the frail skin.

Old Peter made a sound like a sigh, and they both went up in flames. I jumped back, the sudden inferno burning the air in my lungs. I blinked through the smoke and saw Osmond, crouching blind beside Smoke who threw down his suddenly hot weapon, and Snowy, terror all over her features. I ran towards the flames, a dark mist spilling out of the fire, dampening out the edges, the Nether blood Jason had consumed finding its escape, dulling the heat enough that I was able to drag them away, out into the cold night air, dropping down beside them in the largest snow bank, my body half covering theirs as the building exploded.

It wasn’t that bad, I’d had my flesh seared from my body before, and I felt practically great dragging them towards Osmond’s truck as explosions went off behind me. Osmond and Smoke were in the back of the truck, Snowy beside me as I drove as close to the edge of the water as I dared, trying not to flinch with each explosion. She made a choking sound and I reached over and pulled off the gag.

“
Is Dariana all right? Did she follow the plan?” I nodded and she looked like she was going to cry. “Old Peter died. That was not part of the plan. He’d been so sure that you would save us.” She looked at me accusingly, and I felt a new wave of pain as I forced a smile at her.

“
Plans change.”

She swallowed, and wet her lips, her dry, split and swollen lips with her tongue. Someone had done an excellent job of roughening her up, probably Valerie. Come to think of it, Snowy was wearing clothes that could only be Valerie’s.

“
Nice dress, not really your typical style though,” I said then turned the wheel to dodge an enormous flaming tire that crashed in front of us.

“
Valerie isn’t as bad as I thought even if the only way she agreed to help us was if I let her dress me up like this. So tacky,” she said gripping her armrest with all her strength while I could see through my rearview mirror a wall of flame lighting up the horrified eyes of Smoke and Osmond as they held on for dear life.

“
So the plan was…” I asked lightly.

“
Dari’s cousin Jackson is a dead ringer for Devlin, so we used him as a reanimated corpse, which Valerie told Jason she wanted to use to increase her status with her house, by using some of Devlin’s original blood to increase its efficacy, like it was practically Devlin with some of his power, and then…” her words were drowned out by an ear rending crash. “So Jason agreed to take me as a lure for Dari, for his last vial of Devlin’s blood traded to Valerie, Jackson in tow. Ash was with them to keep him from leaning them, and Osmond and Smoke were waiting with Old Peter, who would crash in to rescue me, and Jason would withdraw instead of fighting Old Peter. Old Peter was so sure that Jason would never, ever actually hurt him.”

I didn’t have to answer over the resounding boom, and then we turned a corner and the flames were out of sight. I drove for a few more streets, before pulling over and getting out. The snow was cold under my feet, and for the first time I noticed that I was wearing jeans, and not much else. Between burns and cuts my body had a lot of character. I had to get somewhere I could eat, rejuvenate, and sleep.

“
Osmond, you up to driving?”

He nodded and jumped down, looking pretty good for how shredded his shirt was. “Smoke, Osmond, thank you for the rescue. I owe you.” I didn’t like saying it, but there you were. They’d risked their lives for someone neither of them particularly liked.

Smoke grinned lopsidedly, and shook his head. “You owe Dari. It’s so weird you’re this great painter and you never gave me any tips.”

“
Didn’t know you were into painting,” I said, feeling tired, very, very tired.

Snowy got out of the truck. “You do realize that you owe Dariana your life, right? I mean, you were really lucky that she even wanted to rescue you.”

I smiled with that sinking feeling in my stomach. “I’m very grateful.”

“
You don’t look like it,” she muttered. “You look like you want to run away and forget any of this ever happened.”

“
Don’t worry Snowy. I won’t forget.”

Turn the page for a sneak peak at the first chapter of book two of the House of Slide series:

Hybrid

1 Happily Ever After

The snow came down and down and down. It covered the sidewalks and streets, dulling the sounds of cars crawling by, leaving me feeling insulated and far away from everything else, even myself.

“
Dariana, aren’t you coming down for dinner?” my mother asked from the doorway of my bedroom. Startled, I looked up at her. She had new lines were around her eyes, wrinkles from worry about me or my dad, but she was still strikingly beautiful with her sheet of glossy black hair and dark blue eyes. I nodded and slid off the window-seat. I tried not to notice the painting as I left the room. It was painfully alive and beautiful, a swirling miasma of life and color that reached out to me as I passed.

Downstairs in the white gourmet kitchen, Satan scowled while he filled my plate with something cheesy and gooey. He cooked like that while my mother worried about calories. I found neither cooking styles appetizing anymore. I gave Satan an appreciative smile and ate, but it was something I forced myself to do, mostly to get them to stop looking at me and feeling concern for me that I couldn’t help picking up. It made my skin prickle to feel the worry as my mother urged some salad on me. I closed my eyes and leaned back in my chair. They were overreacting. They didn’t know what to do now that I had my soul. I couldn’t blame them since I didn’t have the slightest clue either.

The first few weeks after it happened, after I regained my soul and everyone had come back from fighting Bliss it had been really bad, really hard. My dad was here, staying until Christmas was his excuse, but it was really to help me stop leaning everyone unintentionally. I’d been so out of it, so incapable of knowing what I felt, I’d cried or laughed hysterically, and made everyone around me feel the same way I felt, which left Satan really irritated with me. He seemed disappointed that I had my soul back. He wanted someone who could destroy a room full of Hotbloods and Wilds. Now I couldn’t even kill a small animal. My dad had tried to take me hunting, tried to help me get back to full strength but the smell of blood made me sick. My dad thought it may have been from all the death I took at the exhibit. I don’t know. All I knew was that I had to deal with an entirely new set of issues with my new soul, and it wasn’t any easier. It was actually harder because I wasn’t as direct and simple as I’d been before. Before when I was upset, it was easy to hunt and feel better. Now I wasn’t sure I’d ever feel better again. It was fine though. I was fine, however much my mother stared at me like I was about to fade away before her eyes.

“
I’m fine,” I said to Satan while he leaned back and lit up his cigar.

“
Satan, are those filthy cigars really necessary?” my mother asked, but her heart wasn’t in it. The smoke drifted out the window and I couldn’t smell it. Satan didn’t bother to respond to my mother.

After a few more long drawn out silences, I wandered up to my room to do homework. I was still in art classes, but I slightly resented it since it was hard to disappear into numbness when I was dealing with Mr. Landon and his insane expectations for the daughter of Alex Woods. I sighed as I sat down at the desk in my room and looked at the picture I was trying to draw. It was horrible. I had expectations of myself as well. It wasn’t bad enough that my dad was a fantastic artist, but that my… I shook my head and shook off the thoughts of Lewis. The name came into my head unbidden and with it a pain that pierced the numbness. I put my head down on the desk and felt the beginnings of a headache, the throbbing behind my ears the prequel to the pain I’d feel struggling to keep my feelings about him to myself. It was better not to think about him, about the look in his eyes when I’d left him on the roof of the school, the way his words had pierced me when he’d told me that he… no. I closed my eyes tightly and thought about Snowy, about Osmond and Valerie, and forced myself to wonder if Snowy and Smoke were ever going to go on a date, or if Ash was going to feel better any time soon. He was fading away. My dad told me that Cools sometimes didn’t feel tied enough to this world and their souls eventually abandoned their bodies to become part of whatever. I wasn’t like that. I was the opposite of not tied to this world, he’d told me, I was too tied to it, to someone in it, tied in a way that made living without him something of a pain, lots of pain. When my dad had left my mother she’d gone ballistic, redoing the kitchen over and over again, putting down tile and ripping it up; our house had been in a state of perpetual chaos for a year or so until she’d suddenly stopped. My parents were soul mates. Old Peter had thought that Lewis and I were soul mates, but he was gone now. I’d killed him. I got up from the desk then wrapped a blanket around me before collapsing on the window seat. I leaned my head against the glass, feeling the cold against my skin, the cold that spread through me, helping me to forget.