Blood To Blood Read online

  Mom wasn't alone. A man with black eyes turned to Cici and I fought back a shiver as she locked her mind down. She didn't want to know what was in this guy's head either.

  “Charleston, it was a pleasure seeing you again,” Mom lied. “Quenee will see you out.”

  Charleston rose and left with the receptionist. The door closed behind them, and Cici turned to Mom. “She's drinking blood.”

  That was it? That was what she was so anxious to tell Mom? Why not just call or send an email? What was the big deal? Cici collapsed into a chair, her mind on the auto-lock she used around family. Mom sighed heavily and for a frightening second the color drained from her face. I’d never seen her look so tired, and her uncharacteristic gesture, putting her head in her hands, made me want to cry.

  “What's happening to her, Mom? She's not supposed to drink blood before she transforms. I don't understand.”

  Mom straightened up. “Sweetheart, there are no hard and fast rules for The Change. Especially for Angel. She is different.”

  Different?

  “How?”

  “We are not sure yet.”

  Perplexed, I digested this information. Mom was pretty old, and her vast range of experience usually supplied an answer to any question. Why not this one?

  “What do we know so far?” Cici asked.

  “We know there is a hidden part inside her consciousness. It is a place your father cannot access, even with her permission. He discovered it last night when he touched her temple. That place seems to have an awareness of its own, but she herself is unaware of it. I believe this unconscious element will make itself clear after The Change.”

  “And the drinking of blood while mortal is a part of this mystery?” Cici asked. “Have you ever seen someone do this before?”

  “Yes. Your brother Tunde.”

  Brother? I went numb with astonishment. I never knew anything about a brother named Tunde.

  “He drank blood before his change, and then went on a killing rampage.”

  My brain started swimming.

  “Did he have this hidden place, too? Like Angel?”

  “I do not know. But we do know there was something in Tunde's makeup that contributed to his eventual personality. At the time, we did not recognize the specific traits, but we see some of the same traits in Angel.”

  Hands on my shoulders pulled me out of Cici's head.

  “Angel, you okay?” Julietta looked worried.

  “Yeah,” I gulped. “I was just somewhere else.” Sawyer’s hooded eyes regarded me thoughtfully.

  I tried to shake the yucky feeling of dread, but between being in Cici's head and recalling Mom’s words, I failed. I reached for a thermos and decided to lose myself in the music.

  LaLa had a great verse for track No. 97, and to strengthen the rhythm of her flow, Sawyer suggested stepping into the sound booth to record her idea. Julietta joined as a human beatbox, and Sawyer went in with a jimbe drum to beat out the rhythm of the track. Someone had to sit at the board, so I volunteered.

  It was also a good way to stay away from all of them.

  “Apple Pro Logic DAW,” Heist said as he plunked himself down beside me. “Can't wait ‘til I get my own.” He pointed to the monitors. “Down there, he's got the turntable set up. This board can mix analog as well as digital, so he can throw in all that obscure stuff you heard. He gets a lot off vinyl.” He pointed to a collection of actual vinyl albums in a cabinet. I nodded in awe and took a long swig from the thermos.

  Sawyer's movements in the booth caught my eye. He was giving me the signal. I hit the “record” button and the console lit up like a bunch of crazy fireflies. The track started and Heist lowered the levels slightly. LaLa started spitting her rap and Heist's head started nodding in time. She'd found a true fan in him, and maybe something more, seeing the way he watched her through the window.

  They finished the eight bars. Over the intercom, Sawyer suggested a second take; and Julietta agreed, saying she heard a counter-melody in her head. With a nod, he gave the signal once more. I pressed the button again. As the track began, I heard yet another melody in harmony with Julietta's. Excited, I sang the melody line before belting out a rift that complimented LaLa's peppery delivery. My eyes were closed as I felt the track’s hypnotic rhythm mix with LaLa’s flow and the melody I was singing. I opened my eyes and my peripheral vision took in Heist, who seemed like he was rocking to the music. It wasn't until he started to fall when I realized there was something wrong.

  Heist was convulsing.

  Maybe an ingrained respect for the soundboard caused him to fall not forward, but to the side to avoid interrupting the recording process as he hit the floor, where he gasped for breath. I pounded the intercom button. “Sawyer! It's Heist!”

  Sawyer raced out of the booth and ran to Heist's jacket, where he extracted an inhaler. He applied the medication, but there was no response. I began pumping Heist’s chest and Sawyer breathed into his mouth. CPR. One one-thousand, two one-thousand, repeat. Still, I heard no heartbeat from Heist. LaLa frantically screamed into the phone with 911. But it was too late. Heist, the intern who showed so much promise, was gone.

  Sawyer stubbornly kept breathing into him. Stunned, I stopped pumping and eventually Sawyer, struck with the futility of our efforts, stopped too.

  Julietta, crying, turned to LaLa and reached for her hands, which had turned into bloody fists from beating the floor. I saw the blood flowing from her hands, but it left me cold. This scene felt too much like when Mr. C. passed out over the keys. And then there was what Mom said. There was something about me, and it was causing people to get hurt. Or drop dead.

  The panic started deep in the pit of my stomach. I scooted on my bottom along the floor into the nearest corner, where I cowered in horror. I'm almost there, I heard Cici's voice. I’m calling Dad. Stay calm!

  Her command came too late as a wave of panic took control and lifted me off the floor. To keep from floating into the air, I scuttled under the soundboard, where I fit perfectly in the small space between the bottom of the board and the cabinet with the hard drives. My head was pressing painfully into the board. Crying and terrified, I gripped the heavy feet of the console to keep my skull from being crushed.

  Sawyer, his eyes glazed, looked up from where Heist's body lay and saw the state I was in. “Angel, you did all you could do.” His voice broke as he reached for my hand.

  The doorbell rang. I heard Julietta say, “Dr. Brown…?”

  Dad swept in and took in the situation with eyes that missed nothing. “I was only a few blocks away and on my way to the hospital when I heard the EMS call,” he explained. He knew immediately Heist was dead, but had to go through the mortal motions of making sure. As he did, his lips moved quickly, as if he was chanting a spell under his breath.

  I felt calmer. Soon, I came back down to the ground, and with the pressure around my head and shoulders gone, I could breathe properly again. I sucked in a large amount of air.

  Dad made a note in his book and put away his stethoscope. “He’s gone,” he announced before administering to LaLa's bloody hands. “I’m sorry you kids had to go through this.” EMS arrived through the open door. Dad gestured toward Heist's body, shook his head with meaning, and gave the time of death. “They're in shock,” he added and pointed to the rest of us. The second attendant started with me, as if I looked like the one in need of the most help.

  When Cici arrived, she went to everyone in turn, helping to distribute water, blankets, and words of encouragement. My body was numb and felt strangely distant. I watched Cici, thinking she should have studied medicine instead of architecture. She caught my eye and continued talking to LaLa as she broadcast her thoughts to me. Dad cast a spell to calm you down. You were freaking out, and now you won't feel much of anything until we get you out of here.

  I was too exhausted to even nod in acknowledgement. After a little while, she finally came to me. “I'm taking her home,” she said. They all stared at
me.

  You look catatonic, Cici conveyed in order to explain the concerned looks on their faces. They regarded me as if I was the second casualty.

  And I guess I was.

  Because in some way I couldn’t explain, I knew that if Heist hadn't sat down next to me he'd still be alive. I failed to stifle a low moan.

  Dad directed Cici to take me home and straight to bed, and to keep me warm along the way. Let them think Angel is in shock, I heard his telepathic instruction clearly. She is changing and this will be the cover for why they will not see her for a while. I will be home soon, after I accompany the body back to the morgue and do the necessary paperwork.

  I walked like a zombie. Cici, fighting the urge to pick me up, bundled me in my coat, gathered my things and assisted me. I hated what I was becoming and wanted to die, too.

  “You’ll get your wish soon, sis,” Cici whispered into my ear as we slowly moved down the steps, down the block and into the cover of night. “Tonight you go home to die.”

  And with that, she rocketed off the pavement with me curled up and weeping in her arms.

  10. DEATH OF ME

  The sound of screaming woke me up. I was confused, until the violent-colored sound waves pouring from my mouth clued me in.

  I was the one screaming.

  It felt like my skin was being torn apart inch by square inch and stitched back together. My eyes felt like bubbling eggs in a frying pan. The angle from which Cici looked down on me told me I was lying on my back, probably in my bed. Could I move? I wasn’t sure; my body felt like a lump. No arms or legs, just throb. Cici… Help me!

  It's The Change, Angel. The Shimshana rite of passage. She turned away. “This is my fault. I stupidly thought I had enough time to take you through everything, as if it were a class. I was a silly fool.” She turned back to me, and her eyes glowed a faint red. “Crash course. Your body’s becoming immortal. It’s literally changing as I speak. It’s changing as you scream. You may feel as if your skin’s being ripped apart. That's because it is. The molecules and the cells are evolving into a different substance. This is the death of you. And the birth of you.”

  “How long?” I panted.

  “Three days.”

  Seriously?

  Suddenly it was clear why The Change had been such a mysterious topic. If I'd known it would hurt this much, I'd have jumped into the Charles River.

  “This is how we come to be. Shimshana. We’re not made, we can only be born. You’ll emerge from the fire like a phoenix. Still hear me, Angel?”

  Yes! I thought through the murky agony. My mouth was incapable of making sane sounds.

  “There are many blood drinkers. Some are invincible; others are as weak as the smallest insect crawling along a gravestone. And then there are many in between. We’re the prototype.”

  She said all of this matter-of-factly while placing a wet towel on my forehead. It steamed on contact with my skin.

  “Yes, you’re burning up, but that's normal. Your body temperature’s rising and will stay much higher than your old mortal temperature. Now you, too, can turn rooms red, just like Mom.”

  I tried to laugh, but my teeth, gums, and lips hurt too much. Just then there was a tearing that sounded like something emerging from the area of my stomach.

  “Your new digestive tract. It is changing into one that processes blood effectively.” This was Dad's voice, and I opened my eyes to see that it was now night. I must have fallen asleep, or passed out.

  Kill me now was my only thought.

  “You will get the death you wish for.” Now it was Mom's voice. “You will die and be reborn to the heat of the sun. It is our natural state to walk in the sun and absorb its rays.” Her voice was a soothing drone, as if her intention was to lull me back to sleep. “We are not like vampires, who must hide from the very thing that keeps our planet alive. We are alive.”

  “It hurts, Mommy,” was all I could say.

  “Leave the pain, Angel.” She kissed my forehead. “Separate from it. I know you can do it.”

  I imagined myself floating over my own body and the pain went away. Ahhh, that felt much better. I looked down at the part of me that was still lying on the bed. I was completely encased in a gauzy, threadlike substance. A cocoon. It shrouded every inch of my body except my eyes, nostrils, and ear openings, which Mom worked to clear.

  Again, I wondered how all this Change stuff would affect my life. For the millionth time, I wondered if I’d still be able to sing. What if The Change altered my voice? The agony of this thought, of never being able to sing again, was just as intense as the physical pain, but I couldn't escape it. The mental pain made me cry out with an out-of-body scream that seemed to rip open a hole in the space around me and cause images to rapidly stream through my mind.

  There were images of myself, my family, my girls. I even saw Sawyer. There were other faces that only felt familiar, as if I would know them someday. I saw myself singing on a stage in front of masses of people, more people than I ever dreamed would possibly be interested in me. I saw record charts, and sales figures with numbers that made me want to gasp. Was I seeing my future? I knew with my whole being that I was born to sing, and no one or no state of being could take that truth away from me. To not sing would be impossible because my existence depended on it.

  As if in response to this revelation, I saw more images; bleak, desolate, and grim. I was angry and alone in a barren landscape. My eyes were solid red, my skin glowed red, and the air around me was dark like a black halo. There were others with me, but despite their clamoring presence, I felt more alone than I even thought was possible.

  Bodies covered the landscape as far as the eye could see; bodies of mortals, immortals, and beings I could not identify. I’d somehow killed these beings and a feeling of power rose within me like a dark thirst. I wanted more death, more destruction, and knew without a shadow of a doubt I could bring it. I could make mortals and immortals dance to a different song: the melody of anarchy and the beat of chaos. Was I seeing my life as it could be if I didn't follow the path that I knew with all my heart was meant for me?

  I felt a sense of urgency, like if I waited too long I’d lose the ability to make a choice and the darkness would swallow me up. This was more than a vision. It was a decision. No! I shouted to the barren landscape and the presences I felt in it. There is nothing for me here!

  I began to sing. I don't know what song it was, but as I did, the first vision’s light continued to grow stronger until it was brilliant and white. And then there were lights as bright as suns... No wait those weren't suns they were...people? An incredible roar...a choir… so many voices singing in a key I’d never heard before. A musical outburst so lovely my soul trembled. Sounds exploded into cascading stars, and all I could do was continue to sing and become one with the beautiful choir. And then the cacophony of glory was in my head, louder, and brighter until I felt like I was being consumed by it.

  Underneath it all, a diminutive voice shouted. I stopped singing to listen.

  “Can’t control it,” the voice cried. “It's too strong!” It sounded like Dad.

  “Call her back,” another voice said. Mom? Were they talking about me? They sounded so far away.

  “Angel, come home!” Dad shouted. He was speaking Aramaic, and his voice grew louder by degrees until it was a roar within a roar. “Libero!” he commanded, compelling me to return.

  Fighting the pull of the choir, I pushed myself toward his voice. Dad!

  “Angel! I'm here. We're here.”

  I followed the sound of his voice until I fell back into my body, back into the pain. I opened my eyes, unsure of what I would see. Mom, Dad, and Cici were all there, all looking at me as if they were looking for me. “I’m here,” I moaned.

  Mom hugged me fiercely, despite my cries of pain. There were tears in her eyes.

  “Mom, she's okay,” Cici said.

  But I didn't feel okay. My eyes were still open, but my family, along with eve
rything else in room, faded into darkness. And then there was no more pain.

  “She's dying,” I heard Cici say. And then there was nothing at all.

  11. ARMY OF ME

  I woke up again, feeling fully conscious for the very first time in my life. Every memory I had flashed before my eyes as if I were some breathing camcorder on sixteen-year rewind. I saw everything I'd previously forgotten. The light hitting my eyes when I came out of Mom's body and the immenseness of Dad's face as he looked down on me. I felt Mom’s hot hands as she held me close and heard the sound of their laughter. I remembered being held by Cici for the first time and falling asleep in her arms.

  I remembered every lame day at school, every conversation I'd had, every gig, and every face in any audience I performed for. But despite the detail, all the memories seemed hazy because up until this moment, I’d been no more than a walking, talking, eating fetus, and my growing body had been a chrysalis. Now, I was really alive and the difference was amazing. Every nerve ending tingled with its own awareness. The pain had been worth it.

  My senses were magnified by a million. With just the tiniest effort, I heard every human heartbeat on our block. I wasn't sure how far out the range went, but it sounded like a little more than two hundred hearts. Then there were the heartbeats and movements of the animal life teeming around me. The insects crawling around in the walls were especially loud and annoying. I wanted to dig my fingers into the plaster and remove them one by one to bring the continual slithering sounds to an end. Instead, I tuned out the noise and focused on my new, sharper eyesight. “She's alive!” Cici’s excited tones traveled up the stairs. Wow, was her voice always so utterly perfect? Its rays danced before my eyes until I couldn’t distinguish between sound and sight. They were now one and the same, for as surely as notes had formed before my mortal eyes, now every sound did, too.