Blood Song

it already, if ever so faintly.

I promised myself that it would be my reward as soon as I got my purchases put away. It took a

couple of trips to get it al inside. The weapons bag came inside, too. I’d be putting on my knives

momentarily—just in case. I mean, I thought the wards would hold. But better safe than sorry.

In the course of hauling everything out of the car I found the new cel phone. The light was flashing. I

hadn’t set up my voice mail yet, but I had a lot of missed cal s and text messages. The texts were

probably from Dawna. Unless she’d given the number out to everybody. Which she would.

I didn’t real y want to talk to anyone. But I could text. I sent a couple of quick messages out, letting

everybody know I was safely home, thanking Dawna for the pho, sending condolences back and forth

about losing Vicki. It didn’t take long, and my friends real y did need to hear from me if I wanted them

not to worry.

The “cottage” isn’t as large as David and Inez’s place, but it’s bigger than the house I grew up in,

bigger than my gran’s. It’s also considerably nicer. The living room is airy and open, with French doors

leading out onto a deck and skylights that let in sunlight or moonlight dappled with the shadows from the

palm trees that surrounded the building. I plugged in the slow cooker with the pho, cranked the dial,

then headed outside. I’d put everything away later. Right now I wanted the kind of solace I can only

seem to find next to the ocean.

I made my way down the familiar path that led to that rocky little stretch of beach, my heart heavy and

my mind too ful to focus on any one thing. Just as wel , I supposed. Any one of my thoughts was likely

to send me over the edge.

Emerging from the path onto soft sand that glistened in the same moonlight that shone bright silver off

the water’s surface, I sighed in relief. Pale stars winked like diamonds from the velvet black sky. I

clambered up onto a large rock, scraping my hand. Fast as a thought, the smal wound began to heal. I

watched the flesh knit itself together. It was eerie and deeply disturbing.

“What are you thinking?”

I jumped and whirled, silver knife drawn, to face the source. My skin began glowing with power. “Crap!

Kevin, you scared me! Couldn’t you make some noise or something?”

He waded out of the ocean, naked, water pouring along the long muscled lines of his body in a way

that drew the eye. My irritation evaporated as I watched him glide forward with inhuman grace.

Normal y he works to make himself seem human. Tonight, under the light of the ful moon, he didn’t

bother. Under normal circumstances I’d have felt a wave of lust. But these weren’t normal

circumstances. Either stress or sorrow was keeping my libido in check. Pity.

He sensed my lack of interest, but it didn’t bother him. Nor did the drawn knife. He came up to the

foot of the rock and lowered himself onto the sand, sitting comfortably, facing me.

“It isn’t safe for you here. You should be in sanctuary.”

“The sun had gone down by the time I was done at the hospital,” I explained. “And this place is warded

nine ways to Sunday. I’m surprised you were able to get in.”

“Moving water doesn’t bother a werewolf the way it does a vampire, and even permanent wards

aren’t as powerful underwater. I swam. I got burned a little by the wards, but I’ve already healed. And if I

can get in, you can bet Edgar could find a way.”

I looked out over the ocean at the rising and fal ing surf. Would it burn to swim? I was born a water

baby, a Pisces. I’ve never lived away from the ocean. If I couldn’t swim … shit.

But there was no use talking about that. “I’m not worried about Edgar tonight.” I slid the knife back into

its sheath and settled into a comfortable sitting position.

“You should be. Celia—” Kevin’s voice dropped almost a ful octave and took on a rumbling edge that

wasn’t quite a growl. “You don’t know him like I do. Believe me—”

I interrupted him before he could get more upset. “Oh, he’s a major badass al right. Scares the crap

out of me, if you want to know the truth.” I shuddered a little, thinking about the threesome I’d spoken

with earlier. “But he wasn’t my sire, and he wanted to make sure I let you know. In fact …” I paused for

effect. “He gave me a message for you.”

“What do you mean, he’s not your sire? You spoke with him? When? Where?” Kevin’s voice was

cold and his eyes had gone dark. I could see the muscles in his jaw clenching as he fought to control

his anger.

“He’s not. Trust me. Edgar showed up with two of his people when I was at the drugstore. They

couldn’t cross the protections.”

“Don’t be so sure. If Edgar’s your sire—”

“Hel o? You’re not listening. Edgar’s not my sire.” I ran my hand through hair damp with spray. “He

and his friends showed up after I’d been bit, before you and Amy came charging to the rescue. And

thank you again for that.”

Kevin met my eyes, his own gone wide. “You remember?”

I looked away, at the stars, the ocean, anything but those demanding eyes. “A detective who’s

investigating what happened took me to a clairvoyant. It triggered the memories.”

“Oh.” The word fel into the air between us like a rock thrown down a very deep wel . We sat in silence

for a while before I answered the question he hadn’t voiced but was waiting for me to answer.

“My sire was a thin guy who looked like a kid, with dark hair cut short. He died young enough not to be

able to grow a decent beard, just this straggly little soul patch. I remember my blood dripping off of it as

he started chanting the spel .”

I turned my head, to watch Kevin’s reaction. It was worth seeing. Normal y he has one hel of a poker

face. Not now. He sat on the sand, his entire body vibrating with contained rage, his eyes glowing with

the magic he held back by force of wil .

“I figured you knew him. Care to share a name, maybe a daytime resting place?” When Kevin didn’t

respond, I continued. “He and the others in the al ey were scared to death of Edgar and the vamps with

him.” I shook my head. “Can’t say as I blame them. Edgar wanted me alive to give you a message, but

the other guy would’ve kil ed me right there in the parking lot if he could’ve. And that woman was just …”

I struggled to find the right words to describe what I’d sensed about her. I couldn’t. “He couldn’t have

held them back. He might be their master, but he wouldn’t have been able to hold them. They wanted

me dead too badly.”

“Did they say why?” Kevin’s voice was bland. His expression wasn’t. Not only could I see the muscle

in his jaw jumping, but the hands gripping his knees had grown white-knuckled. If he hadn’t been healing

too fast, there’d be bruises forming under them.

“Something about my kil ing Luther.”