Hotblood (7 page)

“
Why don’t you lean over and take a little rest like big brother,” Grim said and gave me a tight smile.

“
Is he okay? What happened? Is he epileptic?” I asked.

“
Oh, not really, he’s just had a long week. After an extended strain people tend to collapse. It’s not really anything to worry about.”

“
It’s a good thing you’re driving then. You’re not going to do that are you?”

“
Me?” Grim chuckled low. “Certainly not. Why don’t you try to relax? It’s a long drive and I believe you’ve been under quite a strain for some time as well.”

“
Is that why I can’t remember? I feel like I’ve lost something. It keeps bothering me at the back of my mind, but no matter how many times I go over it I just can’t remember. Did I lose something besides Satan’s coat? What else could I have taken with me that would be so important? It makes me so mad!” The anger was sudden. I gripped the armrest and heard the leather creak under my fingers, or was that the metal?

I felt my blood pounding in my ears and wanted to smash my head against something. Maybe the glass with its sparkling chaos might make things clearer. That was crazy I knew, but somehow it made sense. Feeling pain would make the other pain go away, or at least it might lessen it. I sat with my fist clenched until my heart slowed down, my blood moved more sluggishly. I sighed and relaxed limp against the backseat. Everything was so hard, so intense. Maybe it was hormones, or grief, or how fast everything was changing. I’d figure it out later. My mother had said that my dad would help me.

“
Do you know my dad?” I asked. My voice came out slurred like I’d spent some time at the dentist recently.

“
We’ve met a few times. He likes his space, and I like mine, so we never had any kind of conflict. I know him more by reputation than personally. Your father may not be Wild, but he’s special in his own way. Dari, if anyone can figure out where you need to go from here, it will be him. You have much to learn, but don’t we all.”

He drove in contemplative silence while I tried to get more than platitude out of the words.

I let the sound of wheels on the road and the roaring of the engine clear my head. Grim was right. I had time. I could figure out things later. I let it go, drifting until my head was slipping down, too heavy to hold up anymore.

***

When I opened my eyes, I knew something was different. As I stared at a table, the hands that rested in front of me were not my hands. They were too big for one thing, and I could make out a faint line over the thumb, a scar, then more lines, vague under the tan, but clear to my eyes. I stayed still, staring at those hands until I heard a sound like a step on a creaky floor, and my large strong hands pressed down, smoothing the planes of the table all by themselves.

“
What happened? Didya get in a fight?” The voice quivered with age. My shoulders shrugged, still staring at the table. Something pushed my shoulder with a good deal of force, but I didn’t move, stayed still, staring. “Must’ve been some fight.” There was a sigh, and a chair creaked beside me. “Wanna tell me about it?” My head shook no, a slow, definite movement that got a chuckle from the old man. “So, what happened? Did you lose?”

“
That’s right.” The voice was low, warm, and came from my throat.

“
Well, that’s a story worth telling. Come on, boy.”

I shook my head again, still staring at the table.

“
Boy, you’re going look at me, now.” The voice quavered, but there was steel beneath the age. There was a thud that sent a shudder through my body. I took a deep breath, braced myself then lifted eyes and turned my head to meet the burning blue-eyed gaze of the ancient man. The eyes were ageless and piercing. My jaw clenched as I struggled to keep still, to hold that gaze. The old man looked down first and covered his eyes with an enormous trembling hand. “I don’t understand.”

I swallowed and made a sound, sort of like a choked laugh. “You don’t understand?” I stood quickly then walked out of the tiny kitchen through several dark rooms. I slammed a door and leaned back against it thudding my head against the wood. I stood up and shoved a hand through my hair then switched on the light. I was in a cramped bathroom with a shower crammed on one side, a toilet next to the tiny pedestal sink, an old medicine cabinet above. I stared at the mirror into a stranger’s face. The cheekbones were finely sculpted underneath the stubble, framed by auburn sideburns. Dark brows framed hazel eyes, specks like golden candlelight surrounded by a swirling mix of greens, blues and browns. They were the color of warmth, of life, of home.

***

I found myself spinning away from the image in the mirror into darkness, back to the familiar scent of Satan, Grim, and leather. I blinked panting and looked at Satan, his hat low over his eyes like he was sleeping. What had just happened? It must have been another dream. This was much better but just as disturbing as the last one. My heart was racing. There had been something in those eyes so familiar yet alien. They had shocked me, not only the beauty of them, but the sorrow, the vulnerability so at odds with the hard mouth, firm chin, the nose that had been broken a few times, all under that tangled auburn mane. I felt something trickling down my cheeks and shook my head, glad of the dark, glad Satan was asleep. It was ridiculous to cry just because I’d had a dream, a silly dream of some boy who didn’t exist. My heart constricted at that idea of him not being alive somewhere, of the dream not being true. I buried my face in my arms, leaned against the door, and kept my sobs as quiet as I could.

After a few hours of fitful dozing, we pulled off the narrow two lane road onto a gravel one lane that I didn’t notice until Grim turned the car between two trees, still driving too fast in my mind. The trees grew so thick and close they blocked out the sky over the road. If I hadn’t already seen dawn breaking I would have thought it was still night.

“
Relax, it’s not going to be that bad,” Grim’s voice made me jump. I forced myself to smile, to loosen my grip on the door handle.

“
It might be,” Satan said sounding grouchy.

“
Nonsense. She’ll have the woods to explore and I hear her father has a wonderful library.”

“
Come to think of it, you’re right. Demon hounds, Hollow touched, why she’s going to have a fantastic time getting to know all about her father.”

I turned to look out the window into the tangled undergrowth. Satan was obviously not a morning person. I hated being reminded that I didn’t know my own father. Why did he want me now after all this time? Growing up he had come once, maybe twice a year, visits that hadn’t made much of an impression on me. Even when he was right in front of me, there had been distance between us. How was I supposed to figure things out, to adjust with someone who had never been interested when I was stable? All I knew about my dad, facts that had registered, was that he was a vegetarian and painter who believed in self-sufficiency. What part could I possibly play in his world? With my mother I knew what I was going to get. She would leave me alone. If we did talk, it would be about chemical formulas, something she was working on in the lab, or something I was learning in school. I closed my eyes and rested my head on the window.

It was a long winding drive, at least a few miles, but it wasn’t long enough. There was a place in the woods where the trees grew so thick together they looked impassable. I looked past Satan, and saw a barrier on the other side as well. I didn’t have much time to wonder about that because the trees thinned until on Satan’s side the woods dropped back altogether revealing so much space and light it took me a moment to register the meadow sloping down out of sight. I blinked taking in the mist that turned a simple meadow and the forests above into something mysterious. It was still early by the light, maybe six, six thirty. Would my dad even be awake? If anything was less comfortable than seeing my father, it was waking him up to see him.

We followed the curve of the road, the meadow on one side and the woods on the other, until a house came into view. It was startling to see something manmade after all that nature. Looking at my dad’s house, I felt uncomfortable, but there was also the awe at the beauty of stone mixed with wood. The building didn’t have any clear architectural style. It didn’t look as though an architect had anything to do with it. I got the impression that it had sprung up overnight, a dream complete with plumbing. At least I hoped it had plumbing.

As we drove closer, masses of greenery obscured the lower portions of the house. When we finally pulled to a stop, I saw my dad on the front porch, but when he walked down the steps, I lost sight of him. It left me with an unsettled feeling, like he’d vanished instead of simply walked across the yard.

He stepped out through a gap in the hedge onto the gravel drive a few feet away from the car. It was him, but he looked different in the morning light. His long hair looked silver instead of gray; his narrow face didn’t seem to have any wrinkles. The way he stood was the biggest difference. Where his shoulders had been hunched at the funeral, now he stood straight and tall, taller maybe than my uncle Satan. He looked past the car towards the woods. I almost turned to see what he was looking at, but then his gaze shifted to me, into me. I saw cool water then turbulent waves crashed into me, drowned me. For a moment I sat frozen while those silver eyes sliced all my rational thoughts to shreds. He blinked and went back to studying the woods above me while I gasped and put my head between my knees, glad for a moment to focus on the smell of Satan, leather seats, and muddy floor mats. It hadn’t exactly hurt, it felt like I’d been taken apart and reassembled like a three dimensional jigsaw puzzle.

“
Oh, yeah, you’re going to have fun,” Satan said, putting a hand on my head in a way that might have been comforting if he’d had a lighter touch. “Maybe I should have warned you about looking at your dad. He’s got a look that can strip you to your soul.”

“
He doesn’t usually do that,” Grim put in.

“
Yeah. He usually asks permission before he chews you up and spits you out. Dariana, if you can breathe, it’s time to go meet your dad,” Satan said.

I let him pull me to a sitting position, but I kept my gaze locked on the back of Grim’s head. I still felt panicked. Exactly what had that been? It was just a look. It shouldn’t have shattered me. I took another trembling breath.

Suddenly Satan shoved open his door, and it made a sound of scraping metal. Whoever had put the doors on this thing hadn’t been worried about sneaking up on anyone. He pulled me out of my door; otherwise I would have stayed huddled in the vehicle. When Satan relaxed his grip on my arm, I stayed close, glad he had such a large shadow I could hide in.

“
So, Alex,” Satan leaned on the top of the car, not seeming to notice the gouges and dents in the metal as he looked at my dad. “How’s it going? You look aggressive today.”

“
Do I? I beg your pardon. Welcome to the Woods. Both of you are welcome. You have my gratitude for bringing my daughter to me.” His voice was beautiful, low and smooth, but with an undercurrent to it that made me think Satan had better watch his step.

“
Yeah, too bad Helen didn’t make it, but she had things to take care of before Dari returns.”

“
I hardly expected her,” my dad said abruptly then sighed. “I mean that I am a little surprised that Dari came at all. Grim’s call was unexpected. Helen made it quite clear what she expected from me, or rather didn’t expect after Devlin...” Everyone stood quietly for awhile then Satan fumbled in his pocket for a cigar. “At any rate, it’s a pleasant surprise. Another surprise is how well Dariana looks.”

Satan grunted. “Yeah. She’s not dead. She went out for a walk last night. There was lots of fog, kind of funny smelling, Netherlike. Now we’ve got either possession or, well, I have no idea. You got a real good look at her. What do you think?”

I looked up at Satan and glared at him. I was right here. He didn’t have to talk about me like I was deaf or something.

“
Hotblood,” my dad said quietly. “She has all the obvious signs of holding a Hotblood soul.”

Satan nodded. “Thought so. How exactly is that possible?” Satan asked then looked me over. “Never mind. I probably don’t want to know. A Hotblood, huh?” He looked at me and there was something soft around his mouth that made me scowl at him. That earned me a full grin that showed all his white teeth. “Well, that’s a shame. Next time I see her, she’ll be so controlled there won’t be any chance to watch her do anything interesting.”

“
You want her to break another limb? Of course you do. Why do I ask these questions?” Grim said as he opened his door. For all his confident talk about my dad, he’d taken his time to get out of the car.

“
Sylvester, thank you for bringing my daughter,” my dad said formally.

“
Not at all. It was entirely pleasant,” Grim said and Satan snorted.

My dad looked at me. I could feel him looking at me but didn’t meet his gaze. I studied Grim’s legs in their nondescript trousers. They might have been black at one point but now were faded to a dark shade of gray. “Dariana…” my dad began.

“
She’s a little delicate at the moment. You should take it easy on her,” Satan cut him off. I looked at him. Was he trying to protect me?

My dad laughed, a sound that made me want to laugh and cry at the same time. “I’ve never had trouble with diplomacy, Saturn.”

Satan shrugged. “That’s good. You’re going to need it. Well, Dari, I guess this is where we say farewell, at least for now. Go on and shake his hand,” he said to me. I glanced at my dad from behind my hair and shook my head. “Oh, come on. You’ve already had the worst. You’re not scared are ya?”