Thicker Than Water (22 page)

The door was in sight, but with Maggie trying to bond, it seemed so far away. “Sure thing,” Kia said, trying to take longer strides.

“I'm worried about you, Kia,” Maggie said. “Your mother being sick for so long, that's a big deal. Your father—”

“Dad and I are getting along fine,” Kia said.

Maggie gave her a sharp look and released her. “I just want you to know you're not alone in this. There are some adults you can count on.”

“I know,” Kia said reaching for the doorknob. “Thanks.” She stepped through the door.

“Welcome to the Court of Draconia, Kia,” Lady Margaritte said as Kia walked into Red that night. “I'm glad to see you.”

“It sounded interesting,” Kia said. “And I want to learn more.”

“I'm about to perform our opening ritual,” Lady Margaritte said. “Take a seat.”

Kia scanned the room for Damon. She didn't see him, but she did spot one of the dancers from the previous night and several other vaguely familiar faces. They nodded at her, obviously recognizing her too.

She sat on a red velvet banquette, wondering what the ritual was going to be. Wondering if she'd be able to handle it.

Lady Margaritte took the stage. She was joined by two other women, both in black vampire gear. One lit incense, the other started beating a small drum. It reminded Kia of the Wicca ritual.

She flashed on Aaron's angry face from the scene in the storeroom the day before. She'd seen him mad in the past but never at her—not like that.

She looked down at her nails and remembered the feel of her mother's thin hand.

So Carol's brother was seriously gone now. Maybe Kia should call her. Or at least e-mail. Of course, by now, Aaron would have told her about their fight, so Kia was probably the last person either of them wanted to hear from.

A gong broke into Kia's thoughts. Lady Margaritte held up a decanter filled with dark, thick liquid.

“The blessing of the blood,” she intoned into the microphone.

Kia felt anticipation ripple through the crowd. She wriggled to the edge of her seat.

“Blood is life. Blood is our source. Blood is what binds us to one another. Creatures of the night, bless this blood for us to share, to connect us to the life force, to connect us to one another. What we share, we share willingly.”

Kia blinked. Was this a blood-bonding ceremony? She thought that was just between people getting married.

Lady Margaritte waved some smoldering sage around the decanter. Then some other vampires went up onstage and lit candles. They held the candles around the decanter.

“The blood is now purified with sage and with flames. We are free to drink.”

Goose bumps rose on Kia's skin.

The vampires began pouring the blood into tiny paper cups that were set up on several trays.

Lady Margaritte smiled at the crowd. “For those who are new to our court, we open with this ceremony to connect with our vampire selves and as a way to acknowledge that despite our many differences, we are linked. This is not a blood-bonding. This is a way to open us up to one another while we're here, to proudly proclaim our vampire nature with each other.

“And,” she added with a fanged grin, “for any public health inspectors here undercover, our blood is organic corn syrup mixed with organic food coloring.”

Everyone laughed, including Kia.

The vampires worked their way through the crowd, handing out the little cups of fake blood. Once everyone had one, they returned to the stage.

Kia clutched the little cup so tightly she nearly squashed it. She put it down on the table in front of her. A man and a woman, both in their thirties, joined her on the banquette. They smiled at her, their small fangs subtle. Until they each fiddled with the fake teeth, making very un-subtle adjustments, destroying the illusion.

“Now,” Lady Margaritte instructed. “Shut your eyes.” Kia did. “Pour the blood onto your tongue. Feel its warmth, its vitality. Feel the life force, the life you are part of.”

The blood was sweet, not like real blood at all, but Kia concentrated on what Lady Margaritte was saying.

“Now feel it warm your throat, feel it enter your body. Blood is power. You feed on power. This is yours. Own it. You are powerful. You are beautiful. Do not fear your dark self: it is where you draw your strength.”

Kia swallowed, unexpected emotions startling her, making her throat close up.
I'm not strong.
flashed through her mind, spreading a potent mix of guilt and grief through her.
I'm not powerful.
If she were, everything would be different. She wouldn't be screwing up everything in her life. She felt tears spring into her eyes, and to her horror, they trickled down her cheeks.

A warm hand covered hers. Her eyes blinked open. “You're okay here,” the woman next to her said, her voice soft. “You are safe. No one here will judge you or hurt you.”

Kia nodded, her throat clogged.

“We are vampire!” Lady Margaritte declared from the stage.

“We are vampire!” the crowd responded.

A gong sounded and the ritual was over. The woman beside Kia still held her hand. Kia wasn't sure if she should shake it off or not. She was surprised by how calming it felt.

The woman watched her a moment, then smiled. “Rituals call things up in all of us,” she said.

Like when I wigged out at Aaron's,
Kia remembered.

“We understand,” the woman continued. “Your journey is your own. We won't pry. But we are here if you need us.” She released Kia's hand.

“Thank you,” Kia said.

“I'm Dark Star. This is Osiris.”

The man on the woman's other side nodded. He was slight, with narrow shoulders and short light hair. They were both dressed in black, but nothing outrageous. The little fangs and matching pendants were all that said vampire.

“Those are cool,” Kia said, pointing at the jewelry.

Dark Star held out the pendant for Kia to look at more closely. It was a pentagram with a vial filled with dark liquid soldered onto the center.

“Osiris and I are blood-bonded,” Dark Star explained. “That's what's in the vial.”

“Does everyone who blood-bonds wear one of these?” Kia asked.

“Usually,” Osiris said. “It's like wearing a wedding band. Making a public commitment.”

Damon didn't wear one. Kia's smile broadened.

“You're feeling stronger now?” Dark Star asked.

“Yes,” Kia said.

“I'm glad. We need to go, and I'd hate to leave you alone if you were still vulnerable.”

“I'm fine now, thanks.” Kia was struck by how kind Dark Star was to her—a total stranger. It was like Lady Margaritte said: this ritual made them all part of the same whole.

Kia watched Dark Star and Osiris leave the bar, saying goodbye to several people as they made it to the door.

Where Damon suddenly appeared.

Kia's heart clutched. Was he looking for her? Did he know she was here?

She got up quickly, but everyone was heading for the bar now that the ritual was over and the crowding slowed her down. By the time she got to the door, Damon was gone.

She burst out of the entrance and whipped her head around. A figure with pale hair ducked around a corner a few streets ahead. She raced after him.

“Damon,” she called, hurtling around the corner. She skidded to a stop.

The street was empty.

Kia's body sagged with disappointment. There wasn't anything left to do but go home.

T
hank you all for making our court last week such a success. We appreciate all
those
who made it possible. And welcome to all our newcomers. Remember, if there is anything you have questions about, contact me via this list and we can set up a private chat.

 

Kia smiled as she read the e-mail. She had signed up for the Court of Draconia web group and had been checking out the posts all week. They ranged from practical
(Need a night job to accommodate my schedule
or
Have a working amp for sale),
to the funny, to the sad, to the philosophical. There was court business (who was going to book the club for the next event, when elections for court officers would be held) and invitations to other vampire nights and band performances. Kia never posted herself; she felt too new, but she enjoyed reading the varied responses to what other people wrote.

She tried to figure out if Damon ever posted on the list. One name, NOMAD, appeared occasionally, and the messages sounded like him. But Kia knew enough to know that e-mails could be misleading. She needed proof.

Proof of a lot of things.

“Is he or isn't he?” was the question that woke her up every morning, came to mind whenever she saw him.

At NightTimes she noted that he never came in until well after dark. He was so pale but never wore makeup like the others. His skin was cold to the touch, but he never seemed to notice the temperature. Those rats, the dog, the turtles all acted so strangely in the park, his cryptic statements, his knowledge of things that had happened so long ago, the sudden appearance and disappearance of fangs. The mesmerizing hold he had over her—over everyone who came into contact with him. The power he radiated.

It had to be true.

At lunch the following week Kia headed for what had become her usual table over the last two months. Julie, Wren, and Mandy, the center of the goth clique, sat comparing hair dye, jewelry, and bands. Virgil doodled in his sketch pad.

“Hi,” Kia said, plopping onto a chair.

Julie, Wren, and Mandy exchanged cryptic glances as if they were telecommunicating. “Hi, Kia,” Julie said coolly.

What's with her?
Kia wondered.

“So we heard you're seriously into the whole vampire thing,” Mandy said.

Kia shot a look at Virgil. He shrugged as if he didn't know what they were talking about.

“We went to a goth club over the weekend,” Wren explained.

“Well, that's what we thought.” Mandy rolled her eyes.

“It turned out to be one of those offshoots. You know, one of those weird vampire nights,” Julie said.

“And that woman from NightTimes—” Wren began.

Mandy smirked. “Miss Pathetic of the Long Nails.”

“She told us you were deep into the scene. Practically famous.”

Greta,
Kia realized.
They've been gossiping about me with Greta.

“Is that why you don't hang with your music program pals anymore?” Wren asked. “Because they don't want to play vampires?”

“That vampire crap gives goth a bad name,” Julie added. She shook her head. “I thought you were cooler than that.”

Kia looked at her food tray. She couldn't understand how a month ago these girls were looking up to her and now they were acting as if she didn't belong in their sorority.

Mandy giggled. “So do you bite people?”

“Why? You offering me your blood?” Kia asked, narrowing her eyes and smiling what she hoped was an evil, vampire smile. “'Cause I didn't have much breakfast and I'm starved.”

Mandy looked startled and leaned back in her chair. Virgil snickered.

“What's the matter, Mandy?” Kia pressed. “Too intense for little girls like you?”

Julie glared at her with a definite challenge on her face. Mandy and Wren just looked nervous.

“Unlike you goth
kids,”
Kia said, “the vampires mind their own business.” She picked up her tray and moved to a table populated by some freshmen. They stared, unsure of what to make of her.

She glanced up as Virgil sat down opposite her.

“Is it true?” Virgil asked. “You into that scene full-on now?”

Kia shrugged. “Why not?”

He tipped back his chair and studied her. “You tell me. You know more about it than I do.”

“It's not like they say,” she said, for some reason wanting him to understand what it was she saw in the vampires. “They're really nice. And it's fun. I feel . . . accepted when I'm there.”

“I didn't know you didn't feel accepted elsewhere,” Virgil said, not looking at her, as if he were nervous about what he was saying.

“You know how things get,” she said, even though she didn't know if that was a true statement or not. “I—It's ... it works for me, okay?”

Virgil's dark eyes now focused on her. He nodded. “Okay.”

“Do you want to come with me to court?” The words startled Kia as they came out of her mouth, though by then it was too late to stop them.

“Court? Like a trial or something?” He laughed, making his dimples appear. “Are you under vampire arrest or something?”

“No, no,” she responded, laughing at the image. “Court like royalty. It's a regular get-together.”

“And you want to take me there?” Virgil asked.

Uh-oh.
She didn't want him to get the wrong idea. “Well, I want you to see for yourself what it's like. Anything I say in its defense will be suspect, right?”

“I guess,” he said.

“Sunday at eight. And it's even over at a decent hour.”

“Okay, it's a date.”

Kia cringed at the word
date,
but Virgil had already grabbed his books and left the table.

At least maybe now one person in the whole school would see she wasn't a freak.

 

Sunday night Kia met up with Virgil outside Red. He seemed apprehensive.