Blood Song

was driving the other emotions off. I love

my mother, but sometimes I almost hate her. “Nobody here’s buying your little pity party. Besides which,

even if you had a valid license, you’re too drunk to be driving.”

She straightened to her ful height to glare down at me. “I am not drunk.”

“Of course not.” My voice dripped enough sarcasm to earn me a filthy look from both the reverend

and my grandmother.

“I don’t have to stand here and take thish.” My mother turned to face Gran. “If you won’t loan me your

car, I’l just cal myshelf a cab.” She stalked unsteadily past me, slamming the glass door open.

I turned to fol ow, emerging just in time to see her freeze in mid-step about six feet from the property

line, her eyes glazing over.

Oh, shit.

23

I had my knives out. They glowed pure silver white in the moonlight. The streetlights had gone out. So

had the church light. The only il umination came from the moon, my knives, and the gleam of greenish

light shining from my skin. It wasn’t the best way to introduce my gran to my condition, but I had little

choice.

I saw movement, a deeper shadow moving in the velvet darkness. It was her. Had to be. The

question was, was she alone? Knowing my luck, probably not.

“Mom.” I tugged at her arm without letting go of my knife. She was stiff as a board. She’d stopped just

inches from the boundary. If she didn’t take that last step, the vamp wouldn’t get her. But with the beast

fighting for control of her mind, I couldn’t be sure she wouldn’t take that last fateful step.

I couldn’t let that happen.

I loved her.

I might want to throttle her more than half the time, but I stil loved her. And I wanted her here, alive,

and in ful possession of her faculties. Because if she died or became undead, we’d never be able to

fix what was wrong between us. And I wanted that. Until this moment I hadn’t realized just how badly I

wanted it.

I decided to take the vamp by the fangs. “Hel o, Lilith.”

The darkest shadow responded, “Celia.”

She stepped out of the blackness—lithe, feral, and hungry. I didn’t look at her face. I didn’t dare. One

look in those eyes and she’d have me for sure, just the way she’d caught my mother.

“There’s a bit of a resemblance”—she looked Lana up and down—“but not much.”

“Yeah, wel , she’s had a hard life.” I stepped between my mother and the vampire, hoping I wasn’t

being an idiot. Because if Lilith had enough control of my mother’s mind, she’d be able to force her to

attack me. But if I could break Lilith’s line of sight, my mother might be able to slip her mental bonds. I

didn’t think she was strong enough, but I wanted her to be. I mean, this was the woman who had stuck

around when our life had gone to hel . She’d started drinking to cope, but she’d stayed, which was a

damned sight more than Dad had done.

“So I can see.”

I felt Lilith’s power slither around and past me, slick and sinuous as a snake. Hang on, Mom. Fight it.

“What wil you do if I cal her to me? Wil you try to save her? Sacrifice yourself? Or wil you stand there

behind your line of protection and watch as I drink her down, then use my magic to replace Luther with

your dear mommy?”

“You don’t have her yet.”

“Don’t I?” I heard the crunch of heels on concrete, felt a body press against mine as my mother

shifted her weight in response to the cal .

“Hang on, Mom. Hang on. ”

I didn’t dare look back, even though I could hear movement from the direction of the church.

“Lana, no!” my gran shouted behind me, and suddenly the darkness was bisected by a spear of white

as blinding as a magnesium flare. Reverend Al strode forward, holding the cross from the altar in front

of him. It was glowing with the blinding white light of pure faith. He’s a big man, six two, probably a good

250 to 275 pounds of former ful back. He was impressive at any time. Tonight, he was awe inspiring.

The scent of incense, heavy with myrrh, floated to me on the chil night air.

“Begone, demon!” His voice rang with authority as he shouted the prayer of banishment in its original

Latin. I recognized it from my readings in col ege, but I’d never actual y heard it used. Lilith wasn’t a

demon, just a very old bat, but it seemed to work. She screamed in frustrated rage, her power lashing

out at him like a living darkness. It struck the wal of his belief with a sound like the clash of swords, but

the light of the cross in his hands never wavered. Reverend Al was a wal of solid muscle standing

beside me, between the bat and her prey, armed only with the cross and his belief.

The vampire raised her head, howling in agony.

It was the only opening I might ever have. Sending a silent prayer upward, I shifted the knife in my

right hand to a throwing position and hurled it into the bulk of her body.

It wasn’t a throwing knife. There was a good chance it might not strike point first. But it was a wel balanced weapon, and with the magic Bruno had imbued in it al I needed was a scratch. It struck home,

the blessed blade sinking hilt deep into the soft flesh of Lilith’s abdomen.

She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Instead, I saw flames eating at her from the inside.

Cool. Don’t know what magic made it work, but it was very impressive.

With a whoosh of air her body imploded, until it was nothing more than coarse gray ash, with my

blackened knife smoldering on top.

Vampires do not die like that. They just don’t. Kil ing a vampire is bloody and messy and involves

beheading and taking the heart. They do not simply burst into blinding flame and burn down to a kneehigh pile of dust—wel , not without the help of copious amounts of sunlight. So what the hel had

happened? I wanted to cal Bruno or Matteo, but I couldn’t seem to move.

I don’t know how long we stood there. Long enough that the light from Reverend Al’s cross faded and

my eyes adjusted to the velvet darkness of a night fil ed with clouds. One by one the streetlights came

back on. As if from a distance, I heard my grandmother crooning a lul aby to my sobbing mother.

“We need to gather up the ashes and spread them over a natural source of moving water.” Reverend

Al sounded even wearier than I felt, which was quite a trick. Because I felt as though I’d gone twelve

rounds with Mike Tyson.

“Yeah, we definitely want to dispose of her properly. And I need to clean my knife.”

I wanted rest in the worst way. But I couldn’t until I was absolutely sure we’d eliminated any possible

chance of Lilith coming back.

The reverend’s voice was a little unsteady when he spoke next. “I’l go get a broom and a dustpan,

although what we’l put the ashes in I don’t know. I don’t have anything ready.” I managed to move my

head enough to look at him. His normal y ruddy face was gray with fatigue. He looked old, a bit frail,