Blood Song (Blood Singer #1)

Blood Song (Blood Singer #1) Page 9

“Music Appreciation and Ornamental Gardening.”

Kevin snorted and I glared at him. “Don’t laugh. David’s been talking about making changes to the grounds and Vicki thought that at least one of us should know what he was talking about.” David and Inez lived at the estate and ran the place for Vicki. I rented the guesthouse. It was an arrangement we’d worked out shortly before graduation and one that had worked well for us for several years.

“The ghoul-proof table means they took precautions not to endanger the campus.” Rocky’s voice was a low, soothing rumble.

Lackley’s eyes narrowed, but he gave Rocky a curt nod. It was obvious Lackley was very unhappy about the situation, but even he would hesitate to go up against El Jefe. The nickname might have started out as a joke, but it stuck because Warren is “the Chief” when it comes to the paranormal. He’s internationally renowned and brings a lot of prestige and money to the university. Lackley might win this particular battle, but pissing off Warren would cost him dearly long term, and he was too astute a politician not to know it.

“Dr. Reynolds—since Ms. Graves appears to be alive and in full possession of her faculties and memory, is there any reason why she should remain here instead of recovering in the comfort of her own residence?”

“Well, sir …,” Reynolds stammered a little. I knew he was going to argue. As a doctor, he’d feel compelled to take a conservative course with regard to little things like, oh, sunlight, holy water… . But I knew it would go badly for him if he did. He didn’t have the clout Warren did, so he’d be practically defenseless, and Lackley was in the mood to rip someone a new orifice.

I didn’t want Dr. Reynolds to be punished for saving me, so I spoke up before he could argue. “It’s all right, Doc. I was planning on leaving anyway.”

“I hate this.” Kevin glared at me when he said it, and I could feel the heat of his anger. “You shouldn’t risk going out into the sunlight.” I knew his beast was close. I could feel it. He usually has better control than that, and it made me nervous. I wasn’t afraid of him. I was afraid for him. Because most people see werewolves as monsters and think they all should be either killed or locked up, which was why nobody at the university knew about his condition. If Kevin gave them an excuse, we’d have more and worse problems than we already did.

I tried to show him all that in a look, and he subsided a little.

“I need to know how bad this is going to be, Kev. If I have to stay in, I will. But if I can handle the sunlight, I’m going.” I took a deep breath, gathering my nerve. If I was going to do this, I needed to get it over with.

President Lackley and the others stepped out of the way, Rocky even went so far as to open the door for me.

The hallway had an entire wall made of windows overlooking the campus quadrangle. Bright sunlight was streaming through the east-facing glass.

Everyone stared in hushed silence as I paused at the very last edge of shadows.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped into the light.

I didn’t incinerate. Yay!

“I’m fine.” All right, “fine” was an exaggeration. I could actually feel my skin heating: like a sunburn on fast forward.

I stepped back into the shadows wondering if my trusty SPF 30 would be helpful, and for how long. I’ve always had naturally pale skin, so I kept bottles of it pretty much everywhere. Of course I could go up to SPF 45, or even (ugh) sunblock. But if that didn’t work, life was going to be damned inconvenient. We were, after all, living in sunny Southern California, next to the Pacific. It’s my home and damn it, I like it here.

Kevin was at my elbow. His words were a bare breath of air meant only for my ears. “I can smell your skin burning, Celia.”

He took a step back, but his eyes were glowing. I felt his power roll across my skin, raising the hairs on my body. No surprise there. What was … disturbing … was that my power rose in response, making my skin glow white enough to banish the shadows from the hallway. My eyes felt … odd, my vision shifting into a kind of hyperfocus that showed me every nick in the painted wall, every flaw in the glass. I could see the pulse beating in the throat of a student hurrying down the sidewalk outside a hundred yards away, and it made my stomach growl.

Oh, shit.

“Should she be able to do that?” Emma was obviously fascinated. I’d heard her use the same tone of voice when discussing research results with her father.

Kevin gave me a long, assessing look. “That, and more. She’s not human anymore.”

There was both fear and … excitement in his voice when he said it. If I’d been able to get my throat to respond enough to speak, mine would only have held fear.

5

Vampires look quite a lot like humans … well, except for the teeth, and the unnatural pallor. And of course there’s that whole red/gold-eye thing. But vampires are purely nocturnal. They’re dead when the sun is up. It was full daylight. So even though my reflection in the windows showed someone unnaturally pale, with a really impressive set of canines, I was pretty sure I wouldn’t get mistaken for a vampire. Maybe. I hoped.

My “sunburn” subsided in a minute or two. I could actually see my skin heal. Très creepy. Useful, though. I wondered how it would work. What was the healing rate compared to that of a normal human? Were there any references I could use to find out? From what they were telling me, it didn’t sound as if this was exactly a common problem. Which was probably why they hadn’t covered it in any of my courses.

As we walked down the hallway, him being the gentleman and carrying my duffel and the umbrella I’d borrowed from Emma, Kevin lowered his voice until it was the barest whisper. Yet I could hear him as clearly as though he were screaming the words. “We’re letting you go, and I’ve made Jones promise not to follow you. But I want you to check in every few hours. And if you feel anything odd, call immediately and I’ll come get you. Okay?”

It occurred to me then that I was being given a rare gift—I was being let go. Warren’s vamp lectures came back to tighten my chest and make my heart pound. Vampires are never let go once they’re in any sort of custody. They’re staked, imprisoned, or tested. But they’re not let go. Crap. That could disappear in an instant if I wasn’t careful.

“Thanks. I’ll stay low-key. Mostly I want to do some research and catch up with people.” That wasn’t precisely true, but mostly. I would do the research, when I had time. Right now there were more important things I needed to be doing. So I grabbed my bag and the umbrella and walked with false confidence toward the sunlit entrance. Kevin started to come with me, but President Lackley stopped him with a gesture and a firm, “I have a few more questions for you, Mr. Landingham. If you don’t mind.”

He obviously did. But he didn’t argue. He couldn’t if he wanted to keep his job. Lackley was just in that foul of a mood. I could hear him trying to call Reynolds on the carpet, with minimal success. The doctor had more backbone than I’d given him credit for. Too, he knew his stuff. This was a campus, with hard-partying students. Mine was not the first vampire bite he’d treated. Most individual bites aren’t fatal. A single vampire can’t hold that much blood. Oh, they can deliberately open several wounds and let the victim bleed out, but they generally don’t. Like all good parasites, they know the value of keeping the host alive and in the larder. Only when there’s a group all draining a single victim, or a master vamp siring a baby, do they drain a victim dry. Since a bat seldom attacks the same person twice—which would imply more planning than most have—standard procedure is to replace the lost blood and put the victim under a four-hour sleeping charm in case of complications. Which was exactly what Reynolds had done, only with the added precaution of the restraints.

I could hear their voices, still arguing, all the way to the parking lot as I walked out to my car in the shade provided by the umbrella.

I knew I looked ridiculous, and it pissed me off. Not enough that I’d risk second- and third-degree burns, mind you—but enough to make me irritable. As promised, I got no hint—either scent or sight—that Jones was around, which was a concern of a different sort. There’d been some real tension between him and Kevin before Jones did his disappearing act, which made me wonder about their relationship. They obviously weren’t friends. Former business associates most likely. And how the hell had Jones vanished like that? Experts have been working on invisibility spells for decades with no success. Illusion maybe? That sort of thing is difficult, but at least marginally possible for folks with enough talent.

I pondered it all the way through the parking lot as I searched for my vehicle. Kevin had used the spare key to fetch my car from wherever I’d left it parked. I juggled umbrella, duffel, and keys as I walked across the scorching asphalt to a spot in the very last row. There, tucked between two monster trucks, sat my gleaming midnight blue convertible.

Well, hell.

Yes, the top was up, but the thought that I might not be able to ride around during the day with the top down just pissed me off even more. But I was alive. And I had more important things to think about. I had a lot to do. First thing, I wanted to call Gran. I was supposed to have had dinner with her last night, so by now she’d probably contacted the authorities to make sure I hadn’t been in an accident. Then again, maybe not. I do tend to work weird hours.

Second, I definitely needed to chat with the police. Something very weird was going on and I was right in the middle of it. I mean, no bodies? I wouldn’t have gone out at night alone. I’d been scheduled for a job. If I/we’d been hit, there would’ve been more casualties than just me. I’m good enough not to go down without a fight. So, why no bodies? Who would move them? And why? Getting rid of that kind of evidence takes real work.

I put my duffel in the minuscule trunk. It fit, but there wasn’t a lot of room to spare. I love my little sports car. It is a joy to drive and everything I’ve always wanted. But practical it isn’t. I collapsed the umbrella and let myself into the car, dropping the umbrella onto the floorboard on the passenger side.