Blood To Blood Read online

  I breathed deeply and it was like sight, taste, sound, and texture were all rolled into one mega-sense. Everything I ever needed to know about anything was contained in all the scents within my range, and the impact of this sensory overload knocked me back on the mattress. I inhaled again.

  Oh.

  My.

  God.

  Hunger rocketed me off the bed. Before I even knew I was standing up, I was downstairs in the kitchen, foraging through Mom and Cici's blood supply.

  I was ravenous.

  I downed an entire pitcher labeled “MIRANDA” and I saw her in my mind; short, spiked, dyed-red hair and green eyes with a slight tilt at the corners, like a cat. The scent of her drew me to the foyer and pulled my feet toward the door. The sweet smell of her blood and her taste was so maddening, I laughed wildly and vowed to track her down if it was the last thing I ever did.

  “Stop!” Cici barred me from going out the door.

  “Whatever!” I started moving forward again.

  No, her mind commanded. Stay where you are. You will not go further.

  “Watch me,” I snarled.

  Cici floated up and over to the mirror, and her movement forced my eyes to catch a glimpse of myself. What I saw stopped me in my tracks. My hair, fanning around me, was twice as long and reached past my waist. My eyes were darting from side to side, and the pupils were surrounded by a large amount of white. But most frightening was the color of my skin. I was no longer brown. I was bright red.

  But none of that even mattered. I still wanted Miranda. I lurched for the door again. My hand and arm passed through Cici's body as she tried to block me. And then I couldn't move. I tried, but the effort was overwhelming. I couldn't even turn my head back or forth, or open my mouth to scream.

  “I am sorry darling,” Dad said as he walked into my line of vision. “We cannot allow you to go outside in the neighborhood in this condition.” He moved his fingers in a one-hundred-eighty degree arch, and as he did I felt my body follow my feet in the same arch, turning around and away from the door.

  “She needs to hunt, Dad.”

  “Then she will hunt,” Mom said from the hallway entrance.

  Despite my hunger craze, I could see how beautiful my family was. My mortal eyes had been unable to see the golden aura surrounding and emanating from each one. When I looked back in the mirror, I saw that I had a pretty aura, too. My mouth hung open in awe. Then Mom touched Dad, who clamped his hand down on my right shoulder, and grasped Cici’s hand, and suddenly we were surrounded by super-speedy golden light. Lasting a few seconds, it felt like standing on the edge of a freeway and feeling the rush of air from cars zipping by. Then everything was back to normal and we were standing in the woods.

  “Congratulations, dear,” Mom said. “That was your first space/time collapse.” I looked around. The sun shone brightly somewhere, but not here. We were deep in a forest. “We're in Maine,” she informed me from where she stood next to a humongous tree. “What do you hear, Angel?”

  I could hear the thin keening of the sunlight hitting the massive dome of treetops. The ever-present sounds of millions of insects, which I quickly tuned out. Small, slow heartbeats of tiny animals, and the soft rustling of countless bird wings. A mellow wind fluttered the leaves. Gentle sounds in lavender tones rippled softly like pond waves before my eyes.

  “Now, what don't you hear, Angel?”

  Human heartbeats. Besides my family’s, there were no more for what could have been miles. We were all alone out here.

  That’s right, sis. We don’t hunt people.

  “Take a deep breath,” Mom urged. “Hold it in.”

  A delicious aroma assaulted me, and my body instantly tensed like a sprinter at the start line. I turned slightly to see Cici by my side. She was crouched, and her eyes glowed red. Suddenly, her body went rigid. “Listen,” she whispered. I heard it, too. Three massive heartbeats, slow and plodding. And they were miles away.

  “Go!” Mom said softly, and I took off through the woods. Trees flashed past me in a blur so fast, my feet felt like a part of the ground. Heat rose from the plants, the ground, the very air. It entered through my skin and energized me. The sun hit my face through a clearing in the trees and I stared directly into it. With that, a burst of energy jetted me forward even faster. I felt incredible hunger, wind in my hair, dirt between my toes, and sun energy flowing in waves beneath my skin.

  I yelled to Cici, who raced through the treetops above me. “Do we feed off of the sun, too?”

  “It makes us strong. But it’s the blood that feeds us.”

  We stopped at the opening of a cave where she touched down and drew in a deep breath. “Bears,” she said. “Hibernating. That's why the heartbeats are so slow.” She started to enter, but instead of following, I froze. What was I doing? I didn't know how to kill a bear. What technique should I use? Anxiety took hold and my feet left the ground. Obviously, immortality couldn’t guarantee peace of mind.

  Relax. Observe. She led me, floating through the air, into the cave.

  It was easy to see in the inky darkness that before would have blinded my mortal eyes. Like a deadly Goldilocks, I watched three fully-grown bears sleeping soundly.

  Take a deep breath, sis. I took several, and touched down.

  Cici shook one of them awake. As she crooned softly, crooked a forefinger, and walked to the other side of the cave, the bear followed like a giant, crazy-looking dog and I could feel the power of her mind pressing on the animal’s. Be silent. Follow me. She patted the bear gently, almost apologetically, before sinking her teeth into its neck. Do not resist. It didn't even put up a fight.

  Well, that was pretty impressive, but I couldn't do that.

  You’ll develop your own style. Follow your instincts.

  I found myself at the second bear's side. It woke up and glared at me. I didn't know what else to do, so I punched it in the snout. “Oh! Sorry!” I bumbled, stunned by my actions. I felt out of control, driven by the basest of instincts. My stomach growled loudly. Suddenly, my teeth were in the bear’s neck, my hair mingling with its fur in a big hairy mass. He put up a fight, but I easily pinned him to the ground with my body. While squeezing a fold of the bear’s flesh into a mound between my teeth, I felt my shimshana extend for the very first time.

  Shimshana is what we are, but it’s also the proboscis we all have that allows us to feed. It stretched out from the center of my stomach, and I groaned in ecstasy as it unraveled its way upward, caressing the walls of my throat before inserting itself into the mound of bear flesh in my mouth. The muscles in my stomach area contracted as the thick warmth made its way down before hitting my stomach with a sharp wave of pain, as if I was eating for the first time in my life.

  I felt something weird then, something inside of me, like a light. It began in the pit of my gut and spread through my entire being.

  You’re feeling the bear’s life essence. This happens whenever we feed. You learn things about, and experience an intimate connection to, the source.

  I knew all kinds of stuff about that bear. He'd eaten a lot of acorns before entering this cave a few months ago. He'd mated with a couple of female bears around that time, too. He had affection for the other bears in the cave, although they weren't siblings. I felt such epic love for the bear I wanted to cry. But soon, he lay limp on the cave floor as my shimshana retracted quickly back into my stomach. Amazingly, I felt no guilt, even though as a mortal, I’d freak out if I accidentally stepped on an ant.

  While considering this, I was knocked face-first to the ground and claws raked deep into the back of my neck. It was the third bear; awake and mad at what was happening to its buddies. I turned as it swiped again, and this time its paw went right through me as if I weren’t there. I opened my mouth and roared at the bear with all the rage I felt from being attacked from behind. The inky red black shades in the cave glowed a brilliant red.

  Suddenly, the third bear was lying drained at my feet, too, but I had no
memory of how he’d gotten there. Cici was gone. Full enough to float away on a cloud of contentment; I walked out of the cave and into the fresh air. My new body processed the bear blood, which thrummed with a hypnotic rhythm in my veins. My legs gave out as a wave of relaxation swept over me, and with a sigh, I sank onto a comfy blanket of snow. Eventually, my parents found me there.

  “Well, you look more awake,” Mom said. “You’ve got your normal coloring back.”

  Cici flashed through the air toward us, then pulled up to chuck a bag of clothes at me. I caught it in a flash. “Closest store was a few miles away,” she explained. “Walmart. Took forever at the check out line. Not your favorite Juicy Couture, but you'll live.” Dad and Mom laughed.

  My nightgown was ripped and covered in all kinds of blood, fur, dirt and skin. Gross. I touched the back of my neck where the bear had clawed me. It was healed. I ducked behind a giant tree to change before making my way back to the clearing where the others were.

  “So, dear,” Dad said as I made myself comfortable on the circle of boulders they lounged on, “There are a million questions going through your mind right now. You are probably wondering exactly what is going on, and what it all means.”

  He was wrong. There was only one question on my mind. “What day is it?”

  “Thursday,” he answered, puzzled.

  “Good, I still have time to get ready for the Garden gig.” Eager to get back to work, I stood up.

  “Angel.” Dad spoke as if I were a two-year-old. “You must understand what happened to you over the past few days. You are fully immortal; there is no more for your body to do. Your abilities are almost set in stone, but over the next year you may develop new ones. This is normal. And you are Shimshana. What this means is you must subsist on blood. You will never need to eat mortal food again, although if you want to you can.”

  “Why would I want to do that?” The thought of mortal food now made me want to hurl.

  “We're natural-born immortals,” he explained, “and as such, our bodies adapt with time. But change for us is quite different than it is for mortals. Our bodies adapt to the circumstances around us. If not, we would never be able to move with the times. Since our bodies cannot die easily, we cannot allow our other senses to atrophy.”

  “You said our bodies can't die easily. Has anyone ever died?”

  “Yes,” said Mom, “my first husband was destroyed. By your brother Tunde.”

  There was that name again: Tunde. My head started reeling, and I nearly fell head first off the boulder. Dad caught me as I swayed. Cici pushed her calm, and I allowed it to wash over me.

  “It was a long time ago,” Mom continued. “Tunde was once one of the most loving of souls. But when he started to mature, another side came out. His Mahá was… eventful. Many came away knowing that Tunde was trouble, and our family was devastated at the change in him. He had developed a taste for killing. His powers were immense. He became obsessed with destroying every immortal he could. One day, he decided he was going to kill me.”

  The blood flooding my mouth told me I’d bitten my tongue.

  “I was in the midst of my sleep,” Mom continued, “and, so I am told, he trespassed on my resting place. My husband at the time, Levi, caught Tunde in the act. There was a battle between them. I woke up to find Levi in ashes.”

  I'd always wondered what happened to Mom's first husband. “How did he die?”

  Mom took a deep breath. “Tunde was walking fire. In an instant, he could incinerate the most powerful immortal. I stopped Tunde before he could do the same to me.”

  Dad tenderly took Mom's hand and, in that moment, I was glad that she had someone to travel that long hard road with. “Tunde made some bad choices,” Dad said. “It is very important at this point in your existence, Angel, that you decide what kind of life you will lead. Will it be for the good of others? Or will it be something else? After The Change, there is a period of time called the moral window. It is open for about a mortal year, the same amount of time it takes for your powers to fully solidify. During this time, we are faced with tremendous temptation to make bad choices. It is very important to be aware of this and make your decision as soon as possible.”

  I thought about what he was saying and noticed the way everyone's attention was on me. It was almost as if Cici was holding her breath mentally.

  Why was there a question as to what side I would choose? Did it bother me that they had to ask, or did it bother me that I had to think about it?

  Dad was still talking. “Your premature blood drinking may have been triggered by your strong connections with your colleagues. If so, your bloodlust might go into overdrive and make your chosen career impossible. You might even kill your entire audience because you feel a connection to them. You have to decide if performing is what you want to do.”

  Stunned, I sat in silence and contemplated what he said.

  “Angel,” Mom said gently, “perhaps you should forget the singing career.”

  I felt it before I saw it. Red. It covered the trees, the ground, the sky, my family. The sun boiled red and every living thing for miles became one big heartbeat that pounded in my skull. It felt like fire raced in my veins. Recalling the horrible vision of a life without music, I opened my mouth and screamed. Angry red sound buckled trees and cracked boulders around us. Birds fell from the sky and snow melted in all directions.

  Cici sat still, eyes wide with terror as Mom and Dad looked at each other in the same wide-eyed alarm. A protective field glowed around them; Dad was shielding my own family from me. My heart felt like it was breaking. It occurred to me that I’d killed the second bear with the sound of my voice, and now my voice was destroying everything within earshot. I shut my mouth immediately and only opened it again when I regained some control.

  My voice, the only thing I had, was now a weapon. “I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't. What you just saw is nothing compared to what I could do. I saw it. Saw what my life would be if I didn't sing.” Feeling hysterical, I looked to Mom. “Death and destruction all around me. I have to sing. I have to sing in order to be good. I want to be good!”

  But how could I sing if my voice was a force of destruction? Devastation. I was broken. Blood red tears dropped on the stonewashed Walmart jeans. Mom emerged from the protective field and held me close. We sat in those woods for I don't know how long, and the sound of my weeping filled the spaces between the patches of green moss my outburst had uncovered when the snow melted. Mom stroked my hair while Dad paced back and forth. Cici floated inches above the rocks.

  “We can keep the mind lock in place for the next mortal year, until she's completely matured,” Cici said.

  “We will be in damage control the entire time,” Dad replied. “We cannot have more incidents like the boy in the studio.”

  I wailed at the image of Heist on the floor. “Shhh, no tears, sweetheart,” Mom said. “We will work this out.”

  “Angel,” Dad said. “What other abilities do you have? Show us here and now.

  Remembering the bear's claws, I said, “Throw something at me. Anything.”

  Cici tossed one of the dead bushes. It went right through me.

  “There is one other thing, but I don't have a mirror.” I explained Reflection.

  “You're telling me Reflection took on a life of her own?” Cici exclaimed. She was the only one who knew about my “alternate personality.”

  Mom’s face was stern. “Why did you girls not tell us about this before?”

  “I don't know,” I answered. “It just seemed silly.”

  Mom and Dad were silent for a moment before Dad turned to me again.

  “Angel, you are vulnerable now, but only in that you, like all newborns, may not be aware of the limits of your powers or adept at using them. We get stronger and more in control with time. Even so, it looks like you have a good grip on some of these abilities. The one that is out of control is the most lethal. Your voice.”

  “Mr. C.,” I s
aid. “I think he can help me...not kill anybody with my voice.” I told them about the incident in the rehearsal studio and my suspicions about his not being your average mortal. Mom was interested in the latter, and how it might link to why Mr. C. survived when the younger and stronger Heist didn't.

  “That is a possibility,” she said. “Unless he gets too curious.”

  “He has been ‘curious’ about us for years,” Dad replied, shifting a glance toward Mom. “Once I heard him think that you were exceptionally beautiful, although he had never actually seen you eat.”

  “He does have an interesting molecular structure,” Mom said.

  “The few thoughts I have gotten from him show him to be open-minded and vested in Angel's well being,” Dad continued. “I will listen to his thoughts in more detail to ensure he is worthy of our efforts.”

  “If he can be of use to us without exposing our family,” Mom added, “and we can impress upon him the importance of Angel learning to control her instrument, you might have a singing career, dear.”

  Joy and hope blossomed in my chest. Preparing for the Garden gig now seemed like my only reason for living.

  Dad stood up and stretched his legs. “I am hungry,” he said. “Everyone else has eaten. And I have lost my food buddy.” He patted my knees sadly.

  Mom stroked his beard. “I can have your dinner ready in no time,” she said.

  Dad looked at her lovingly for a long second before saying, “You have been going non-stop for the past three days. You deserve a break.”

  “I saw a mom-and-pop restaurant,” Cici offered.

  Dad regarded me for a moment. “It might be an interesting experiment, since you need to be around people, to see how you do.”

  “But wait a minute. What if I get hungry again? Wouldn't I just kill everyone in the restaurant?”