Bloodsinger

I stared at Lionel in shock. I could feel his heart beating madly in his chest, hear the thick and meaty sound of it. But the pain, the pain that I thought was coming from him, it wasn't his. It was an echo of someone else's pain.

I don't know if it was Dhruven's, or if it was someone else's. But I could tell, the moment that those words came out of his mouth, that he was right. Somebody was dead. And it was one of my vampires. Vampires that I was bound to protect. I could feel the great, empty space that had been filled with an undeath. I could hear the blank places in the Symphony of Bloodsongs in New Haven. The tempo was off, the tone, the melody, the rhythm. Everything was changed, different. It was a carefully controlled chaos, and I knew, as soon as my others vamps found out, the chaos would no longer be controlled.

“Winna's song is gone,” he whispered, his eyes wide with fright and anger. I was still too shocked to properly react. But as I saw the mounting anger in his eyes, felt the darkness that had not claimed his vision and his life for almost three years, I began to feel angry. I wanted to know who had killed one of my people. I promised myself that as soon as I found the culprit, I would slit his throat and see him drowned in his own blood.

I reached out, physically and mentally, and gathered my little lion into my arms. I pulled that burning rage away from his too warm body and held it in a secret place inside myself, where he could never reach it. I stroked his hair, past his shoulder blades now, letting the soft, silky texture of his curls distract me from the anger and the guilt I was feeling.

“Glade,” he whispered against my skin. “Glade, Winna's gone.”

“It'll be okay, little lion,” I told him, hoping he wouldn't catch the lie in my voice or my thoughts.

“I don't believe you,” he said. “But I'm going to pretend that I do.”

I smiled against him, unable to help myself. The scent of his blood drifted up around me and clouded my thoughts for a moment before I pushed it away and let the soothing sound of our bloodsong wash over us both.

Eventually, Lionel relaxed, but I was still wound up with tension. “Why don't we go find you something for breakfast,” I suggested softly, my fangs flipping back into their sheaths without a sound. I would not have to feed for another week or so.

“How about we go out,” he asked as he pulled away from my embrace and began to search the floor of the room for a pair of jeans or shorts. I watched him with a smile on my lips. God, I really loved him when he was like this. Oblivious, carefree, slightly frustrated because he can;t find any clothes. Sometimes I hide his pants just to watch him scowl at the floor. I wonder if he knows I liked to do that.

Lionel finally found a pair of denim shorts. With a triumphant 'Ha!', he pulled them on, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet to get them past the subtle swell of his hips. He hunted around through the t-shirt drawer of our dresser and pulled out a white tee. It was one of mine. I knew because it was big on him, but he didn't seem to mind. I saw him sniff the collar and sigh.

“Get dressed,” he ordered as he pulled his socks on. His sneakers were in the closet somewhere. “We'll go eat with Mom and Sue today. We haven't dropped by in awhile and I worry, y'know?”

I sighed theatrically. “Missy again.” I shook my head. “I really hate the way she looks at me, like she's expecting me to bring you home knocked up one day.”

He grunted. “You'd think she'd be happy 'bout something like that. Her first grandbaby. Can't say I'd ever be happy if you did knock me up. I hate kids. And anyway, I don't think I can get pregnant.”

“Shame that. Little Lionel's running around would make me happy,” I admitted casually, teasing him.

He rounded on me, fire in his eyes. He stalked towards the bed, hips swaying that way they did when he was angry. He put his weight onto the balls of his feet. I raised an eyebrow at him, a slight smile on my lips.

He scowled, but I could see him fighting a smile. Finally, he just turned away and headed for the front door, his sneakers not even making a sound on the wooden floor. That's an impressive feat for a human, singer or not. Vampires hear everything.

With another theatrical sigh, I got out of bed and hunted around for something to wear to Missy's.

“I heard that!” Lionel shouted over his shoulder just before the door clicked shut behind him. I heard him traipse down the steps and stop outside to take in the night air.

I dressed quickly and misted out the door, wrapping myself around Lionel discreetly. He flicked at me and started walking. “C'mon, Glade. Let's walk for a change. It's nice out. Unless you want me to know you're trying to get back in my pants.”

I pulled away from the waistband of his shorts and resumed vampire form. I grinned evilly at him and took his hand. “It's hard to resist,” I said. “You're gorgeous.” I pulled him in for a quick kiss. He sighed against my lips and then pushed me away, keeping a firm grip on my hand.

His skin was blazing against my own, hotter than usual. I could feel the tension in his arm and hoped this breakfast with Missy and her girlfriend would help him to ease up.

The Symphony of Bloodsongs played in the background, and I prayed that all would be well for the rest of the night.