Blood Song

“It’s not all bad news.” He turned the laptop so I could see the screen. He’d been researching on an internal website for the company he worked with. I could tell because the company logo was prominently displayed at the top of every page.



“You get improved healing, strength, and speed. Depending on how far the process went, you might be able to eat some solid food eventually. You might start with soft foods and see if you can work your way up.”



I found myself grinning until my face hurt. I love food. Really love food. Especially the ethnic stuff like real Mexican, Thai, and good-old-fashioned Italian, heavy on the garlic. Oh, crap—garlic. Was it going to be a problem? I hoped not. But even if it was, I could cope. I mean, garlic or no, I might be able to eat real food. Solid stuff. Like a normal person. I could start with scrambled eggs. And maybe a nibble of bacon. Yum.



Bruno was shaking his head in amused disbelief.



“What? I’m not supposed to worry about eating?”



That earned me a look. “Solid food should be the last thing you’re thinking about. You need to concentrate on finding your sire, before he—”



I waved that away. “Yeah, yeah, I know. But honestly, I’m more worried about the guys who set up the ambush than about the specific bat that bit me. And I don’t think that Kevin bugged out with Mom just to keep the peace.”



“You think he’s hiding something?” Bruno sounded tired enough that I took a closer look at him—without the glow of nostalgia and sexual attraction.



He was tired. There were worry lines and wrinkles I hadn’t noticed before. And while I could feel a steady stream of energy emanating from him—deep, strong, and more powerful even than what I’d sensed from the M&C boys, he looked strained. His body practically sang with tension, even sitting still.



“Are you okay?”



“It’s been a rough few months,” he admitted. “I’ll be fine.”



A little white lie. And just like that I knew. It wasn’t mind reading, well, not of the psychic sort. More the sort of connection you have with someone when you’ve been close to them for a very long time. I started swearing. “Damn it, DeLuca. You know better.”



He glared at me, dark eyes flashing dangerously. He answered the accusation I hadn’t bothered to voice. “It’s not like I’ve had a lot of choice. You don’t know what’s been going on.”



“Maybe not,” I snarled. “But I know that draining your power without rest is going to cause it to get out of control, maybe even fail. I know that it’ll cut more years off your life than a two-pack-a-day cigarette habit.” My knee spasms had finally gotten to me, so I had risen to my feet and was leaning on my arms on the desk. I’d invaded his personal space, but unlike Ron, Bruno wasn’t backing away.



“Yeah, well, right now I know that there’s a lesser demon wandering around loose in the metro area and my brother’s hunting it even though he’s injured, one of my best friends just died by magic, and another one barely survived a vampire attack. Things are a little tense. So, bitch at me all you want, I think maybe my resting will just have to wait.”



I rocked back on my heels as if he’d slapped me. It would’ve been better if he had. I wasn’t the only person who counted a certain clairvoyant as my best friend. “You’re sure about Vicki?”



“I’m sure.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose with his left hand. It was a familiar gesture from nights when he’d stayed up too late studying and was tired. “They called our company to perform the independent investigation. I had enough pull to insist on coming along.”



“Tell me.”



“I can’t. It’s confidential, and I’ve taken oaths.” He rolled up his right sleeve, showing me a mark like a brand on the inside of his forearm. It was bright red and probably hadn’t been there a minute earlier. He shook his head. “If I wasn’t so damned tired, I wouldn’t have let even that much slip.”



I backed off, because I knew he was right. Binding oaths were … well, binding. Breaking them isn’t supposed to be fatal, but there are worse things than dying. I didn’t like that he’d allowed himself to be bound, but he was a grown-up. And since the deed was definitely done, well, the best thing I could do for him was back off. “It’s all right. The mark is just a warning that you’re on thin ice, not that you’ve fallen through.” I lowered myself back into the chair. I wasn’t about to do anything that would harm Bruno. But I could ask other people questions: people like Dr. Scott at Birchwoods, who would get a full copy of the report.



“Can you tell me about the demon?”



“That’s not a secret, as far as I know. I’ll tell you about it on the way to the hotel. Get your weapons.” He nodded in the direction of the safe. “I need to check them before we go anywhere.”



“They’re fine.” I didn’t want him checking them. Because I knew Bruno. If the knives were at even a hair less than full power, he’d refill them. And he needed rest, not more work.



He gave me a sad smile, as if he’d read my mind. Maybe he had. It wouldn’t surprise me if he had a smidgen of a psychic gift along with the mage talent, and it really wouldn’t surprise me if he hadn’t told anyone.



“Fine. But don’t push yourself.” I went to the safe.



“Yes, Mother.” Even though they were the same words, he said them entirely differently than Kevin had.



“Oh, shut up,” I muttered, but I was smiling. I’d missed Bruno. I love Kevin Landingham dearly. He’s big, he’s brooding, he’s oh so sexy. But he’s serious. And secretive. Bruno has always been a breath of fresh air. He’s got … pizzazz. If you get him in a tux, he’ll quote James Bond movies all night. He not only sings in the shower, it’s a medley of Barry Manilow songs and show tunes. No situation has ever been so serious that Bruno DeLuca wouldn’t crack wise about it.



A lot of people find him annoying. They assume there’s no substance under the flash. They’re wrong. Bruno has his fun, but underneath that camouflage is a fine mind and the kind of ruthless determination that got him to the top and keeps him there.



Having him sitting in my office, serious and worried, got to me. A lot. I could feel him behind me, a close, warm presence at my back. My pulse sped, my body intensely aware of his. It distracted me enough that I fumbled the controls and had to start over. That earned me a low, wicked chuckle. Which I ignored … mostly.



Eventually I managed to lower the wards and enter the combination to the safe. Pulling it open, I drew out the duffel containing the box with the knives. I set the box on the desk in front of him. Bruno waved his hand over it in a casual gesture. Wherever his hand passed, traces of sparkling rainbow colors moved over the lid.



“That is so cool.” I hadn’t meant to say it out loud. It just popped out.



He laughed, and for a minute a little of the “old” Bruno shone in his face. “Yeah, it is.” He grinned over at me. “I will have you know, young lady, that not every mage can do that.”



“Of course not.” I agreed. “You ‘da man.’”



He laughed again, a sound of real delight. “Damned right. And don’t you forget it.”



“Why can I see that? And why can I feel magic? I couldn’t before.” I knew he’d know the answer. Of all of our crowd, he’d been the best student. He wasn’t the smartest. But he’d had talent to burn and he always worked the hardest. He read every assignment, took detailed notes, listened and participated in class. His research papers had always been top-notch. Even in college he’d subscribed to all the trade magazines. If anybody could tell me what was going on, it’d be him.



“Magic is harmful to vampires—to most of the monsters really, but especially the bats. At a guess, I’d say that the ability to sense it is a trait that passed to you from your sire when you got drained. Sensing magic would be one of the abilities that would keep a bat alive long enough to become a sire.”



He opened the box. The knives gleamed. The wooden handles were polished to a warm glow, but the blades gleamed with a cold fire. When he passed his hand over them there were no rainbows. Instead white light, blinding as a magnesium flare, burst to life. I flinched back, shielding my watering eyes with my arm. I couldn’t see a thing, but I could hear the pride and satisfaction in Bruno’s voice.



“Oh yeah. Best thing I’ve ever done. Maybe the best thing I’ll ever do. I hope not, but you never know.”



The light died. I had to blink a few times. Tears were running from my eyes and my retinas were still overloaded. I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand.



“Those knives saved my life the other night, bought me enough time for Kevin and Amy to come charging to the rescue.”



“That’s why I made ’em.” Bruno rolled back his left sleeve to expose a forearm laced with fine white scars.



Before I could ask what he was going to do, he had picked up the first knife. With a practiced movement he sliced into his flesh. Blood welled up from the wound and traced the silver and steel of the knife blade. He muttered words in a language I didn’t recognize. There was a hiss of power and the air seemed to thicken and heat. I watched the blade absorb the blood and the wound on his arm scab over, then heal, until all that was left was another delicate scar line.



He set the knife back into its case and reached for the second blade. “I have to tell you, Celia, if it had been anybody else … but Vicki swore to me back in college that if you didn’t have the right weapons in that alley, you’d die of that vampire attack and your body would never be found. If she’d known the exact day, she’d have stopped you from taking the job. I know it.”



She knew? Even back in college? “She never told me.”



“She didn’t tell Kevin, either. She only told me that she knew I could make the knives, and that it would make all the difference if I would.” He gave me a droll look. “She did not tell me that I would have to bleed myself every damned day for five flipping years to get them finished.” He grimaced. “There were some days I really wanted to give up and say ‘screw it.’ Especially after we broke up. But if anything had happened to you, I’d never have forgiven myself. Not even when I was angry enough at you to strangle you myself.”