Blood Magic (Blood Magic Series Book 1) Page 8

  “How does that prove that I’m a kidney whatever?” I asked.

  “Not kidney, kitsune. And I know because I didn’t find a girl in the snow; I found a tiny golden fox. I’m guessing you transformed into the fox and got out of the water before collapsing. Since you were so little it was probably easier to get out without breaking off more ice.”

  “You think I turned into a fox? The four-legged kind with pointy ears and a tail? What have you been smoking?” I asked with my lips twitching.

  “Allison, this is serious! Your playful nature also comes from the kitsune; they are widely known as tricksters.”

  “Yeah, well maybe you’re a kitsune, too. ‘Cause I’m pretty sure that I’m being punk’d right now,” I said, giggling. He really was adorable when he was flustered.

  “Allie, do you remember the woman from the hospital who was hallucinating?”

  “Yeah, the crazy lady who thought there were worms in her bed,” I replied, not seeing what this had to do with anything.”

  “You were very bored right before that happened, right?”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “So you created a little excitement for yourself,” he replied.

  “I did not! How could I possibly have done that?”

  “Kitsunes are very skilled at creating illusions.”

  “So, what! Even if I was one of these kidney creatures, I wouldn’t know how to do that!”

  “Allison, your magic has been suppressed for so long that it will manifest itself without your even being conscious of it. It has been dormant until now, but it’s definitely been awakened!”

  “But how do you know it was me? Maybe she was just nuts!”

  “I felt the shimmer of magic in the air. Just like I did when the cloaking spell was broken.” I swear he had an answer for everything!

  “So you’re saying that I’m evil?”

  “No, of course not! You’re just a little bit mischievous,” he said with a grin.

  “Making that poor woman think that worms were crawling all over her was not mischievous, Mason; it was just plain mean!”

  “You haven’t learned to control that side of yourself yet; in time you will; you’re a work in progress.”

  “Are there evil kitsunes?” I asked.

  “There are two different kinds. The zenko are “good foxes” and the nogitsune are considered mischievous or malicious,” he said, not looking me in the eye.

  “And which kind am I?” I asked, with a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.

  “Nogitsune.”

  “Of course I am,” I said, groaning.

  “So you believe me, then?” he asked, hopefully.

  “No, I’m still thinking that maybe you escaped from a mental institution,” I replied.

  “Let’s try something. I want you to close your eyes and think about rabbits. Think about what color they are, what size they are, what their fur might feel like if you ran your fingers through it. Think about their twitching noses and pink eyes and long ears. Think about them hopping around. Think about their little cottontails. Clear your mind of everything else but rabbits,” he instructed.

  I rolled my eyes at him, but then I closed them and started thinking about bunnies. Little, cute, cuddly bunny rabbits were hopping all around. Black ones, brown ones, white ones, gray ones. Baby bunnies with soft baby fur, tiny little noses and tails, and tall ears and little pink eyes…

  “Allie, open your eyes,” he said, excitedly.

  And when I opened my eyes, I had never been more shocked in my life. There were baby bunnies everywhere! I was surprised the room could contain all the cuteness.

  “I did this?” I asked in amazement.

  “Yes, you did,” he said with a huge smile on his face, “Now do you believe me?”

  I nodded dumbly as a tiny little black and white bunny tried to nibble on my toes. And I was even more shocked to realize that I could actually feel it. And when I looked over at Mason, I noticed he was holding a tiny gray and white one in the palm of his hand, petting it.

  “I thought you said that I could create illusions. These seem pretty real to me,” I said, as I picked up the little black and white one and rubbed my cheek against its soft fur.

  “Most illusions don’t have any physical substance. That just proves how strong you are.”

  “Why bunnies, though?” I asked him.

  “Because I really hate worms,” he said, shuddering.

  “None of this makes any sense to me. You said I come from three powerful bloodlines? What was I, the result of some supernatural orgy or something? And what about my dad? I can’t imagine him having any powers, but if he did, I’m pretty sure they’d be demonic. And what was my mom? And how do you know any of this?”

  But before he could answer any of my questions, I decided that since I’d gone my whole life not knowing any of this, it could wait a little longer. What I really wanted to know about right now was him. It was his turn to step into the spotlight.

  “On second thought, I think I’d rather just be plain, ordinary little ol’ me for just a little while longer,” I told him, as I laid down and covered back up, “So lets rewind just a little bit and talk about you, Mason,” I said, smiling sweetly up at him and patting the spot next to me in bed.

  He crawled back under the covers with me and turned on his side to face me. “You honestly don’t want to hear about the rest of your powers right now?” he asked.

  “No, I want to hear about yours. Because the last time I checked most guys can’t jump fifteen feet in the air and sling a thousand pound animals around like it was nothing. They also don’t heal so quickly from deep lacerations and puncture wounds,” I said, rubbing my palm against his stubbly cheek. Then I reached my hand under his shirt to feel the smooth undamaged skin on his shoulder.

  He didn’t say anything. He just looked at me like his butt was on fire, but he couldn’t figure how to extinguish the flames.

  “Did you think I was stupid and just wouldn’t notice any of that?”

  “No, I kinda thought that maybe you wouldn’t remember,” he said sheepishly.

  “What? Why wouldn’t I remember?”

  “Because I used coercion on you.”

  “What does that even mean?”

  “I really think you’ve endured enough crazy revelations for one day, baby,” he said, brushing his lips across mine.

  He was trying to distract me, and it almost worked. He was way prettier than any boy had the right to be, and when he looked at me or kissed me—every coherent thought that I’d ever had flew right out of my head. But for some reason, he didn’t want to tell me, and that only made me want to know that much more.

  And I think he was surprised when I pushed him back and said, “It’s way too late to backpedal on the crazy now, sweetheart. So spill your guts.”

  “Are you gonna make me?” he asked, grinning up at me.

  I crawled back over to where he was laying and straddled him. Then I grabbed his wrists and held them over his head as I leaned down and whispered in his ear, “Do you see all the cute little bunnies?” he nodded his head, “They could easily be replaced with big, yucky, slithery worms,” I said as I smiled down at him.

  And he visibly paled as he said, “I changed my mind. Maybe you are evil after all.”

  “Make your choice Mr. Adams, ‘cause worms don’t really bother me.”

  “You win,” he said, and I rolled off of him laughing.

  He grabbed me and pulled me back against him, kissing the side of my neck, and I wrapped myself around him like a spider monkey.

  “Now, tell me about this mind mojo you tried to work on me.”

  “It’s called coercion. All I have to do is touch you and think specifically about the things I don’t want you to remember.”

  “That sounds a lot like compulsion, except there’s touching instead of eye contact.”

  “It’s basically the same, but this is real life, not a TV show.”

  “
So why didn’t it work?” I asked curiously.

  “Because you were too strong. You fought it off.”

  “When I first woke up I couldn’t remember my foot being bitten and my busted head, or you being scratched and bitten. Is that why?”

  “Yes, even really strong individuals who are able to resist coercion sometimes experience gaps in their memories, but the memories always return in time,” he explained.

  “What else can you do?”

  “I’m incredibly strong and fast. I heal almost instantaneously. And I can also shift into any animal I want to. All I have to do is picture it in my mind and imagine my body changing and contorting into a new shape, and it does. Do you remember that snowy owl you saw in the tree at the lake that night?” he asked, smiling.

  “No, way! That was you?” I asked in amazement, “Show me!”

  “I don’t think the bunnies would appreciate that. There’ll be plenty of time later.”

  “Wait! If you were there all along, why did it take you so long to get to me?”

  “Because the smaller the form that I choose to take is, the longer it takes to transform back into myself again, but I got to you as fast as I could,” he promised.

  “It’s okay. I believe you,” I reassured him.

  Would you like to venture a guess as to what I am?” he asked hesitantly.

  “Some of your abilities sound like vampire powers,” I said uncertainly, “Would that be an accurate assumption?”

  He hesitated for several moments before nodding his head. I was sure he expected me to be afraid of him, and I guess any sane person would have been, but that’s one thing I had never been accused of.

  “You’re not afraid of me?” he asked, sounding surprised.

  “Why would I be? You’ve made a hobby out of saving my life. It wouldn’t make any sense for you to hurt someone you’ve fought so hard to protect.”

  And then he grabbed me and hugged me so tight that I almost couldn’t breathe.

  “Mason … not … enough … oxygen,” I gasped.

  “Sorry, it’s just so good to hear you say that,” he said as he brushed his fingers through my hair.

  “Don’t be too relieved; I have plenty more questions to ask you,” I warned him.

  “I wouldn’t have expected anything else,” he replied with a laugh.

  “I’ve seen you in the sun, and you didn’t burst into flames or turn to dust, so either you have some killer vampire sunscreen, or the sun just doesn’t affect you.”

  “If I haven’t fed it makes me incredibly weak. I might even start to burn or blister a little, but otherwise, no it doesn’t bother me,” he replied.

  “I’m assuming when you say “fed,” you mean blood, but I’ve seen you eat.”

  “I don’t need to eat, but I like to. I usually only feed on blood about once a week,” he said casually.

  “Do you kill people?” I asked bluntly.

  “What? No! Jeez, Allison! I get my blood from the blood bank, or by using coercion on humans, but I don’t kill them!

  “Okay, just asking!” I said, but then I had to ask, “Don’t these people notice tiny holes in their necks?”

  “No, we have an anesthetic-like substance in our saliva. The bite marks heal almost instantly. I only take what I need, and the person has no memory that anything even happened.”

  “When were you turned?” I asked.

  “I wasn’t.”

  “I don’t understand,” I said.

  “It’s kind of a long story.”

  “Then it’s a good thing I have time,” I said, lacing my fingers with his.

  “Okay, here goes. When my mom was just a little over a month pregnant with me she was in a terrible car accident. She didn’t even know she was pregnant at the time. She was crying because she had had an argument with my dad, and she ran a red light. She was hit on the driver’s side door by a truck. She ended up with several broken bones and massive internal bleeding and they didn’t expect her to make it. The guy who hit her barely had a scratch. And even though the accident wasn’t his fault, he felt terrible. He begged to be able to see her, but they wouldn’t let him. He finally used coercion to get in there and—”

  I gasped, interrupting him, “He was a vampire?” I asked, completely enthralled.

  “Yeah, he was. She was unconscious and practically being kept alive by machines, but when this man reached out and took her hand, her eyes slowly fluttered open, and she smiled at him. He asked her if she wanted to live, and she was barely able to nod her head.

  “So he cut his wrist with a knife and gently pressed it to her lips. A few drops are all it takes when the person is that close to death already. Most people are resistant to the change; their bodies fight it off like a virus, but her body was simply too weak to fight anymore.

  “By the next day, she was so much better. The doctor’s called it a miracle. And when she got out of the hospital he was there to take her home, and he explained what she had become. She thought he was insane, at first, but when she was finally convinced, they started to see more and more of each other. Then she found out she was pregnant. She was scared to death about what becoming a vampire might have done to me, but in a few months I was born healthy. She married him after I was born, and the rest is history.”

  “Wow, that’s really amazing, but what about your real father?”

  “He’s not around,” he answered vaguely, and I didn’t press him any further.

  “So, how come you didn’t stay frozen as a baby forever?”

  “The aging depends on the amount of blood a vampire drinks. If I completely deprived myself of blood, I’d be overcome with bloodlust and probably kill someone, but feeding in moderation allows me to age normally. And if I wanted to stop aging all I’d have to do is increase my blood intake. It can always be increased or decreased, but never stopped completely,” he told me.

  “What if you don’t feed for a while, and you age more than you intended to, can drinking large amounts get you back to the age you want to be?” I asked eagerly.

  “Yes.”

  “That’s pretty sick!” I said, smiling at him, and he laughed. But before he could say anything else I asked, “So, um, is there, like, any way to kill a vampire?”

  “Why? Are you planning to douse me with holy water and drive a stake through my heart? Or maybe just fix me a nice Italian dinner and go heavy on the garlic?” He asked sarcastically.

  “That depends. Would any of that work?”

  “Nope.”

  “Decapitation?” I asked.

  “No.”

  “Why not? I’m pretty sure even a vampire couldn’t live without a head!”

  “Of course not, but the wound would heal so quickly that the head would never be completely separated from the body,” he said, smirking at me.

  Due to the recurring dream I was having, before all of the others started, I was already pretty certain that fire could kill a vampire. And I was now almost positive that Joshua one and two were the same guy. Different centuries and ages didn’t matter as much after learning that vampires actually existed. Maybe Joshua was turned when he was young, or maybe he was older when it happened. But due to the fact that age depends on blood consumption, I could not be certain.

  I had always believed they were more than just dreams. They were visions from the past, of people who had really lived, but I had never been able to really admit that to myself until just now. I also understood that the dreams weren’t just random. I was supposed to learn something from them, but what? Maybe they were ancestors of Mason’s or mine. But I had the eerie feeling that something in their pasts would affect my future. But what and how, I had no idea.

  “Allie? You okay? I’ve said your name, like, three times,” he said, looking concerned.

  “Yeah, just thinking,” I replied absently.

  And when I did not elaborate he said, “About?”

  “Fire,” I said, still not trusting him enough to tell him about my drea
ms.

  “Huh?”

  “Fire will kill a vampire,” I said smugly.

  “Very good, Allison. You get a gold star,” he said, patting me on the head.

  Just as I was about to reply, I heard a loud bang coming from downstairs, and was startled into silence.

  “It’s okay,” he said, “It’s just my mom leaving for work.”

  “She was okay with me spending the night in your room?” I asked with disbelief.

  “Under the circumstances, yes. What about your dad?”

  “He’s at a medical conference in Nashville,” I replied, “Isn’t it early to leave for work?” I asked.

  “Not really,” he said, holding up the alarm clock, “It’s eight a.m. We’ve been talking for three hours.”

  “Oh, you’re not going to school today, are you?” I asked with a grimace.

  “If you’re not going, I’m not going.”

  “Good, ‘cause I’m pretty sure I can’t walk anyway,” I told him.

  “Are you positive?”

  “Hello? Have you seen my ankle?”

  “Have you?” he asked.

  “Of course I have. There are fifteen stitches!”

  “Really?” he asked, “Let me see.”

  I rolled my eyes as I stretched out my ankle for inspection. And all I could do was stare; I was dumbfounded. Only eight stitches remained in my ankle. And the truth is that I do really suck at math, but even I can count.

  “How?” I asked.

  “As your body heals, the stitches are dissolved. Your blood is mixed, so you don’t heal as fast as the rest of us, but still remarkably fast. When I first got here with you, your ankle was almost severed.”

  “That isn’t possible,” I said, my voice shaking.

  “It is.”

  My hand immediately shot to my head to see if those stitches remained, but it was kind of hard to tell without a mirror. I glanced at Mason and he answered my unspoken question.

  “There are three left,” he told me.

  “One of the other bloodlines I’m a part of, am I a—” But I could not finish my sentence. With every new revelation a little part of the girl I’d always thought I was died, and I was so sad to see her go. I was fine with him being what he was, but I just wanted to be myself. I was so afraid to hear his answer, even though I knew what he would say. And I was petrified to learn about what the third bloodline might be.