Read Blood Song Online

Authors: Lynda Hilburn

Tags: #vampire romance, #Contemporary Romance, #music, #vampire, #paranormal romance, #urban fantasy, #sound healer, #metaphysics, #contemporary fantasy, #Love Story

Blood Song (2 page)

BOOK: Blood Song
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She crossed a bridge over a fast-moving creek and trailed her hand along the wooden railing. Listening to the water soothed her, and her mind wandered back to the handsome Silvio. He
had
been a feast for the eyes. Curly, dark hair skimmed well-toned shoulders appealingly displayed in a sleeveless T-shirt. His expressive, sensual eyes matched the color of the Mediterranean Sea, and she’d longed to dive in.

He’d done his best to charm her with his delicious accent and sweet invitation. “Please,” he said, “you must allow me to take you to dinner, to repay you in some small way for your gift.” His enticing aroma had caressed her nostrils and teased her libido.

She’d wanted to say yes—to spend the rest of the night with the gorgeous musician—but when she opened her mouth to speak, nothing came out. Her desire warred with fear. Now thirty, she had much better control of her voice than she’d had earlier in her life, and she was
almost
certain she wouldn’t hurt anyone by accident ever again. But past experience taught her to be cautious. To hold back. She’d seen what happened when her emotions spiked and her hormones kicked in, and vowed never to put herself—or anyone else—in harm’s way.

But what if I can’t ever have sex again? What kind of life would that be?

Her cheeks warmed as she recalled the lame excuse she offered to avoid spending time alone with Silvio. “I’m sorry,” she’d said. “I have to prepare for my workshop tomorrow. I haven’t typed up my notes yet.”
Haven’t typed up my notes yet? I don’t use notes. I might as well have used the ‘I have to wash my hair tonight’ cliché!

A mischievous smile curved his lips. “I could help you.” He waited, eyebrow raised.

She almost fanned herself.
Ooh, Baby. You certainly could. More than you know.

“No. Really, I wish I could, but I can’t. Maybe some other time?”
Sure. Anytime you’d like to have your brains blast out of your ears, or the contents of your stomach suddenly evacuate in both directions. Sounds like fun to me.

He’d seemed truly disappointed, but accepted her refusal graciously, with an elegant nod and another heart-stopping smile. It wasn’t as if she could tell him the truth. Not that he’d believe her, anyway.

Few people knew her dark secret: her voice was a blessing and a curse. Even fewer understood what it was like to fear oneself as she did.

Lost in the memory of Silvio and the missed opportunity with him, she tried to dislodge the familiar melancholy, which curled through her mind like psychic fog. She knew better than to ruminate about what she couldn’t have. But, hell. Sometimes reality sucked big time.

Despite her lifelong fantasies, no white knight would be charging to her rescue.

She sighed, thinking that if an unsuspecting champion rode up behind her and startled her, she’d likely scream and explode his head or something. Not exactly the fairy tale ending she’d dreamed of as a child. She’d learned early that her life was stranger than fiction. “It’s hard not to be pissed off!”

Why the hell did she send Silvio an invitation to the Equinox ritual? Was she trying to sabotage herself and create another disaster? He hadn’t replied, but what if he showed up? What would she do then? She’d made a mess of things years ago, the last time she tried to tempt the fates and play with fire.

A rustling sound a few feet away snapped her attention from her fretting. On guard, she froze and raised the pepper spray, scanned the bushes and trees, and listened. Her heart pounded against her ribs, and her mouth went dry. Adrenaline shot through her system.

That’s what she got for being cavalier about mountain lions. Only idiots daydreamed and talked to themselves while navigating through cougar territory. Simply because she’d never come across one of the beasts, didn’t mean they weren’t here. Her hands trembled so badly she almost lost her grip on the canister. Weak knees threatened to fold. She’d heard the deadly cats stalked their prey. Was one watching her now? Her mind spun as she tried to remember what the recent article in the local newspaper said about the lethal animals: try to look big and never run. Run? Even though her brain demanded action, she didn’t think her rubbery legs could manage.

Heart hammering, she waited in the thick silence with her finger poised over the canister, muscles tight. Her gaze darted from side to side, senses on full alert. The seconds passed like hours. Finally—when nothing happened—she let out a shuddered breath, relieved her imagination had probably exaggerated the sound of a deer or a raccoon.

Whether her voice could cause destruction on command remained a mystery, since all her previous experiences had been unplanned, but she didn’t want to find out.

Sighing, she’d just relaxed her shoulders and taken a couple of shaky steps up the path, when something burst out of the bushes. Something large.

She pivoted toward the movement, screamed and pressed the spray button, sending a shower of hot cayenne pepper into the eyes of a husky male who’d lunged at her, hands clutching, mouth gaping to reveal long, bloody fangs. He shrieked as the irritant coated his eyes and face, but still managed to tackle her, slamming her body down onto the dirt path. Her canister bounced against the ground and rolled away.

The man—or whatever he was—had outrageous strength. He pressed against her like a concrete slab, easily holding her down, while madly swiping at his eyes with his free hand. The treacherous, long, razor teeth she’d glimpsed as he’d leapt at her were poised over her neck, dripping saliva and blood. The slimy, wet substance oozed down her shirt as she choked on the hideous stench of his breath.

His long dark hair hung filthy and stringy, his skin deathly pale, his clothing torn and disgusting.

She kicked and flailed, pushing against his powerful shoulder, struggling to dislodge the creature. Her arms ached from the useless pounding. Her throat went raw from screaming, which didn’t seem to slow the demon. What the hell? Now that she wanted to use her voice as a weapon—to unleash her vocal arsenal—it didn’t work. He seemed immune. After all the years of worrying about accidentally harming someone, now her voice betrayed her.

The beast’s body weighed so heavy against her chest, she feared her ribs would snap any second. Her heart thundered in her ears as if about to implode from terror. He’d kept up a growling rumble, punctuated by yelps and groans, as he frantically worked to wipe his face and clear his eyes.

Struggling for air, she gasped, all the fight gone out of her limbs. Paralyzed.

The tips of his pointed fangs broke through the skin of her neck, sending a wave of sharp pain shooting down her body
. No! This is it! This is how my life ends. It was all for nothing!
Fury, sadness and hopelessness crashed over her. She raged against the feelings, trying not to give in, but her body wouldn’t cooperate. It was over. And as soon as she accepted the end, a feeling of peace swept through her, leaving behind a strange stillness. She braced for the expected horror, the gut-wrenching torment she was sure would come.

Then suddenly the monster was gone. His weight no longer pressed on her chest. She could breathe. Startled, she blinked her eyes, realizing she must have closed them in her panic.

Am I dead?

For a moment she felt certain she’d been killed, that the thing had torn out her throat or crushed her heart. She hadn’t seen a white light or a tunnel, or any of the near-death symbols always present in books and movies. There were no idyllic scenes, no relatives arriving to guide her to greener pastures. No sage wisdom. And, it
was
strange that her body still hurt, which she hadn’t expected to experience after death. Who knew there would be physical sensations after leaving the body? But she
had
to be dead. There was simply no other possible explanation.

Because she’d gazed up into the perfect face of an angel.

And then nothing.

Chapter 2
 

“Shit!” Ethan yelled. He grabbed the back of the undead troublemaker’s filthy shirt, jerked him off the woman, and dangled him in the air. Blood leaked from the attacker’s ears.

“Nelson! Come and take this vermin, would you?”

A low moan turned his gaze to the frightened eyes of the beautiful woman sprawled on the path. He gave her the command to sleep, and watched her eyelids close. That would hold her for at least twelve hours. Despite her blood-soaked clothing, her heart pumped strong. She wasn’t near death.

Of all the rotten luck. He lost sight of the brainless newbie for one minute, and look what happened. Of course there had to be a mortal walking around. Why didn’t these humans stay in their houses at night, like they were supposed to?

Nelson thrashed through the trees and retrieved the snarling bloodsucker from Ethan’s grip. He locked eyes with the flailing fiend, and gave him a suggestion to be still. “Damn. This fool is covered in blood. He’s gonna ruin my favorite shirt.” Nelson flopped the now-quiet perpetrator over his shoulder. “Sneaky bastard almost got away, didn’t he? I think we both need a vacation from this job.”

“Yeah.” Ethan snorted. “That’ll happen.” Since Mordecai came to town and started turning out these mindless morons at a disturbing rate, he and Nelson were in greater demand than ever. There seemed to be no end to the number of bloodsucking idiots they had to track down and capture. Why did Mordecai only turn humans who couldn’t find their asses with a flashlight? “As long as stupidity is the main requirement for Mordecai’s recruits, we’re stuck. Why does Alexander always have to piss him off? If he hadn’t brought his grudge match to our quiet little mountain town, we’d be dozing in our coffins or watching reality TV right now.”

“Dude.” Nelson laughed. “Fine way to talk about your lord and master. Alexander’s okay. He’s got a little bit of an anger control problem. Maybe a few sociopathic tendencies. Nothing a few electroshock sessions while he was still human wouldn’t have cured. And Mordecai knows exactly how to push his buttons. They’re two sides of the same demented coin.”

Nelson flexed his shoulder to rebalance his undead cargo and nodded at Ethan. “You know how it is. Vampire bullshit. One drama after another. Angst is our middle name. If we weren’t focused on Mordecai’s minions, it would be something equally ridiculous. How else would we fill eternity? Speaking of dramas,” he pointed at the sleeping form on the ground, “what are you going to do with the delicious morsel our brainless friend attacked? You probably shouldn’t leave her here. All that blood will draw attention. We aren’t the only predators prowling the area.”

“You’re right. Time for Plan B.”

“That’s weird.” Nelson turned his head toward his passenger and sniffed. “Most of the blood on our disgusting guest isn’t the woman’s. Did this newbie asshole bite himself instead of her? Mordecai obviously hit a new low with this one.”

“You got that right.” Ethan sighed and studied the woman. “The moron did bite her, but I’m not sensing much blood loss. She’ll be okay.” And now that he looked more closely, he had to admit she was a looker. In the forty years he’d been a vampire, he’d rarely paid more than passing attention to a mortal female. It was simply too dangerous for him to be around most humans. The blood lust burned powerfully strong, and their fragile bodies were no match for his hunger. He didn’t have the age or ability needed to ignore the urge to suck them dry. Every time he’d been around humans, he’d nearly lost control of himself, and since he was still sensitive enough to be bothered by useless slaughter, he avoided temptation altogether.

Of course, he had no problem drinking from the lowlife drug dealers, criminals and pedophiles who unknowingly volunteered to become his nightly entrees. Their blood tasted as sweet as any other, and he considered their executions to be acts of public service. He’d even become remarkably talented at disposing of the drained corpses, so he never broke the cardinal rule of vampirism: remain hidden at all costs. In his world, it was a true death sentence to betray the existence of the undead.

A slow smile spread his lips as he explored her body with his gaze. This one was lovely. When she’d stared up at him with her dark eyes, he’d had the odd notion that she was much older than she appeared. But, strange ideas aside, Nelson was right. He couldn’t leave her as bait for the normal part of the animal kingdom.

“I’ll carry her over to her house, clean her up, wipe her memory of having crossed paths with our repulsive friend, and give her the suggestion that she’d arrived home and gone to bed as expected. Go ahead and take your package to Alexander’s and dispose of him. I’ll join you shortly.”

Nelson smirked. “Why do you always get the good jobs?”

“Because I’m me and it sucks to be you.” Ethan laughed.
Sucks to be all of us.

Nelson tromped off through the bushes with his cargo, and Ethan squatted down next to the woman. He smelled her blood through the distracting odor of the newbie’s donation, which wasn’t fit for consumption. Vampire blood held no life force.

The woman’s scent enticed him, and the pulsing vein in her exposed neck made his fangs descend. As his usual feeding trance threatened to enthrall him, he argued with himself about whether to act on his immediate needs or take her home. His primal brain insisted he could simply drain her and dispose of the body. Nobody would be the wiser. He was so hungry. But something about her gave him pause—an intriguing element he didn’t want to destroy. In fact, the more he stared at her, the greater his curiosity about the pretty human grew. A faint voice in his head, a remnant of what he used to be, piped in to insist he wasn’t an animal.

BOOK: Blood Song
6.02Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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