Bloodbound Nocturne (The Sophia Kelly Chronicles Book 1) Page 10

  "Is that right?" Colin straightens, looking every bit as menacing as Dr. D at this point. "Bring it then, bloodsucker. Let's see what you've got."

  Lord. They're going to kill each other.

  "If I may interject," I say in a small voice. "Professor, we have already—"

  "You stay out of this," he barks. "I've got enough notes on your devastating performance to easily fill an entire notebook."

  Devastating performance, my ass. I killed it out there.

  Dr. D's eyes blaze as he and Colin assume their en garde stances for what I think could be the bloodiest fencing match in the history of fencing matches. I stand there, clutching the clipboard to my chest, completely riveted by the two gorgeous men who advance and retreat so beautifully. It's like watching a perfectly choreographed dance. Until Dr. D decides he wants to play dirty with a show of strength and speed that Colin just cannot match.

  "You're slow," he growls as he drags the tip of his sword across the top of Colin's shoulder.

  I yelp, shocked to see a ribbon of blood pooling and then dripping down his arm. Neither of them pays me any attention.

  "Yeah, well, I'm only human," Colin says, grunting as he moves elegantly and powerfully toward Dr. D, his sword aimed right at his chest.

  "Colin, no!"

  Dr. D jumps, eyes wide with surprise as he narrowly escapes being stabbed right through the heart. As he quickly regains his composure, he whips his hand out, barely avoiding another of Colin's surprisingly rapid advances. With his hand clamped down, Dr. D grasps Colin's sword arm so tightly it turns purple. And with a swift twisting motion, he dislocates his shoulder with a sickening crack.

  "No!" I wail, my voice catching in my throat.

  Colin drops his sword and lets out a howl of pain. He staggers forward, but not without first putting Dr. D in one of his famous invisible chokeholds, stopping him dead in his tracks. Something is off, though. Colin's hold on Dr. D falters slightly, and I realize he's not as strong as he had been after the Unseelie attack.

  Probably because Dr. D has dislocated his shoulder.

  As Dr. D breaks free from Colin's invisible hold, he dives toward him, landing a punch to his jaw that sends him flying backward and into the trunk of a nearby tree. As Colin slumps to the ground, Dr. D advances, ready to land another punch.

  I want to close my eyes to this. To pretend it's not happening. But it is happening. Dr. D and Colin are fighting now. And it's not a fight to show who is stronger, faster, or more magical. I'm pretty sure they're fighting over me. Swords have been discarded, and it's nothing but fists flying and manly grunts of exertion.

  "Stop," I shout as I boldly leap into action, tugging at Dr. D's arm. He jerks away from Colin and glares at me, surprised by my outburst of bravery and probably annoyed that I've just stopped him from punching my friend in the face again. "Whatever is going on here. Stop it. Just stop it. You are grown men, for God's sake." I shove past Dr. D as I move toward Colin. "Let me see your face. And your shoulder."

  I have no idea what I will do with his face or his shoulder, but it sounds like the right thing to say.

  "I'm fine," Colin says, his voice tight with pain.

  With a frustrated sigh, I help Colin off the ground and watch as he carefully circles his bad arm a few times until he can move freely again. If I had to guess, he's just put his shoulder back where it belongs. Probably some secret, earthy Druid magic thing that I have yet to learn about. And here I was, scared out of my wits that Dr. D was going to kill him.

  "You guys are jerks," I mutter, slamming the heel of my hand into Colin's freshly healed shoulder.

  "Ow, Sophe. Watch it," he says, only mildly distracted before he turns to snarl at Dr. D again. "Okay, asshole. You ready for round two?"

  With a growl, Dr. D dives toward him, clearly ready for round two, but once again I place myself in their way.

  "Oh my God. Colin! Shut the hell up and go sit down!"

  I squeeze my eyes shut, bracing for the impact of whatever may come my way. Much to my surprise, though, Colin gives up the fight and slinks back over to the tree. He picks up his tattered shirt and, pouting, starts to tend to his arm.

  "And you," I say, seething as I look over at Dr. D. "What is wrong with you? You're supposed to be helping. Not picking stupid fights. If this is how your little exams are going to be, you can just forget it."

  Dr. D stands there for a moment, glaring at me through narrowed, pissed-off eyes before he storms off, leaving me standing there alone with Colin and what's left of our audience.

  "What was that about?" I finally ask. "Why were you acting like that, Colin? Seriously. It's like you're trying to annoy him. Can't you guys just try to get along?"

  "I don't like the way he looks at you," Colin says, suddenly serious as he reaches for my hand. "I'm serious, Sophe. He looks at you like a piece of meat."

  "What, and you weren't just looking at me like a piece of meat?" I fire back. "You have a girlfriend, Colin. And you're over there flirting with me." I wrench my hand from his, thoroughly angry now. "Not cool."

  His face falls, and I'm pretty sure I've struck a nerve.

  "What if I didn't have a girlfriend?" he asks desperately. "What if you were my girlfriend, Sophe? Would you even want that?" He pauses but doesn't give me a chance to respond. "No, you probably wouldn't, would you? Because you want him. He's the only one you see."

  My heart gives a lurch of excitement at the thought of dating Colin, and at the idea of dating Dr. D, but that excitement quickly gives way to disappointment. Both men are completely unavailable.

  "I'm pretty sure that if I wanted to find a man, I would find one who doesn't have some idiotic, caveman-like desire to show off how powerful or strong he is," I snap. "And I'm pretty sure I would find one who is actually available." I hurry to gather my things, which have been scattered all over the ground. I need to get out of here. "See you later, Colin."

  The cold night air blows through my hair. I don't care if it is forty-eight degrees outside. If this is Texas's idea of a winter, I can deal with it. And I'm driving with the sunroof open tonight. It's Saturday night, and I was thrilled to receive a call earlier today from Jamie Owens, an old friend from back home whose Jazz Trio had been an escape for me for almost two years. Not as an audience member but as a singer. And tonight, I would be dusting off the old vocal chops and filling in for a song or two, thanks to a stomach bug that had worked its way through the band, claiming Jamie’s singer as its most recent victim. I often wondered if my abrupt departure from the group had left a bitter taste in his mouth, but the ecstatic tone in his voice today told me that it hadn’t. Everyone knows my mother is a high maintenance mess who requires constant care.

  There's a line of cars waiting to get into the private parking garage that's attached to the Castilian dormitory, and I immediately understand why Colin never lets me pick him up. I pull up behind a black Mercedes that reminds me of the one Dr. D drives and quickly avert my gaze so that I'm staring down at the steering wheel and not at the car in front of me. I cannot think of him tonight. Not when I want to have fun with my friends.

  Bobbing my head to the Black Eyed Peas song that's blaring from my car's speakers, I grab my phone and quickly type out a text to Colin to let him know I'm here and waiting in line for the parking garage. He responds almost immediately.

  "GET OUT OF THE LINE. I'LL MEET YOU DOWNSTAIRS. WE'LL TAKE YOUR CAR. GARAGE = INSANE."

  I wait for him in the parking lot across the street. He emerges shortly after, dressed to perfection in a black sweater and jeans that look as if they were made for him. He grins at me as he approaches the car, and for the first time in a long time, my heart speeds up.

  "Scoot over. I'll drive."

  "Cool with me," I say, shrugging, as we quickly switch places. "You probably know where we're going better than I do, and you can do all those wizard tricks with the lights. Get them to turn green and all that."

  "I do. I've been there a few times." He takes a
moment to adjust the mirrors in the car before we are on our way. "Did I tell you that Myra, Ruby, and Sarah are meeting us there?"

  I wince a little at the mention of Sarah. I haven't seen her since the day we met before classes started, and Colin has hardly said two words about her. I was secretly hoping they'd broken up, especially after the heated words that were said after our fencing match. Words that Colin seems to have forgotten, but are still fresh in my mind. I'd met Myra and Ruby briefly a couple of weeks ago and liked them well enough so far, but I'm not exactly excited about spending time with them tonight. The secretive looks they kept exchanging, and the constant phone-checking, gave off a judgy vibe, as if maybe they're not as thrilled with Colin's old friend as I am with them.

  "Cool," I respond, trying to muster some excitement at seeing them again.

  The live music venue is located on the second floor of a New York-style deli that claims to never close. We take a few steps down a dark alley to enter through a side entrance and then make our way up a narrow, creaky flight of stairs. The inside of the club reminds me of the old speakeasies from the 1920s, with its big, antique wooden bar, dim lighting, and small tables and chairs lining the perimeter of the small stage. The only thing missing, I realize, is a haze of cigarette smoke to add a hint of mystery to the place. I see Sarah sitting alone at a table near the stage, and she waves us over.

  "Do you want something to drink?" Colin asks.

  "Just a glass of white wine," I say with a wave of my hand. I can't help but notice the way women in this club are checking him out. It's hard to picture him as the gangly surfer kid he used to be back in California when he's so stylish and fashion-forward now.

  I join Sarah at the table and sit in the seat opposite her, not wanting to get too close for fear I might offend her again or slap the silly smirk off her face. She notices my apprehension and quickly fixes me with an apologetic smile.

  "You must forgive me for how I acted in the tea shop that day." She places a hand over her heart. "I was very rude. I know Colin has told you about my gift. And what's weird is that I got absolutely no read on you whatsoever. It's as if you're programmed in another language. One that I don't understand." She trails off for a moment, her eyes scanning the crowd. "I wasn't expecting to meet someone like you, and I was caught off guard."

  I glance at Colin, who has made his way to the bar and is ordering our drinks. I wish he'd hurry.

  "And what does that mean exactly? Someone like me?" I bristle.

  A strange look crosses her face as if she's both confused and fascinated by me. "I see two worlds pulling you. This way and then that way and then back this way again. You will have to choose. Love or destiny." She sways her body from side to side as if demonstrating the pull of these two supposed worlds. "But that's all I see. Vague, I know, but my gift doesn't show me everything. It's so frustrating. It's literally the worst. Literally, the worst."

  "Literally the worst," I repeat. "But it sounds like a fairy tale. What girl wouldn't want to pick between love and destiny?" She looks hurt at my sarcastic response, but honestly, how can she possibly take herself seriously? Has she heard herself say these words before?

  "I know, right?" She brightens a little. "But it's still the worst because I can't see everything."

  I give her a watery smile, unsure as to whether I should encourage any further literally-the-worsts or excuse myself and head for the nearest exit.

  "Wine," says Colin, handing me a glass, which I cannot take quickly enough. He takes a seat between Sarah and me.

  "I don't drink," she says proudly, placing her hand over her heart again. "It interferes with my work."

  Colin shoots me a nervous glance as the corners of his mouth quirk up into a tight smile. I wonder if he's thinking about the hug we shared after our fencing match, like I am. I've had a hard time forgetting it.

  "Are you two having a nice chat?"

  No, it's literally the worst. That's what I want to say.

  "Oh yes," Sarah says with an airy toss of her brunette waves. "I was just apologizing to Sophia for how rude I acted that day in the tea shop." She turns to Colin. "You see, I was explaining the two worlds to her," she says, talking to him as if he’s a child. "Remember me telling you about the two worlds I saw?" She nods emphatically, her eyes wide, as if wordlessly trying to communicate with Colin. "Yes?"

  "Yes, Sarah. I remember," Colin says, as if he's heard this a million times before. And he probably has. "Two worlds. Conflict. Choices." She opens her mouth to say something else, but Colin cuts her off. "You know, love, this may not be the best time for all of this. Let's maybe continue this discussion another time."

  The hand is over the heart once again. Sarah is a girl who is definitely connected with her heart chakra. "Oh." She looks offended for a moment before a sort of resting bitch face takes over. "Well, we really don't have much time. So the sooner we can talk about this, the better, I think."

  "Am I going to turn into a pumpkin at midnight?" I say, innocently running my finger along the edge of my glass.

  Scowling at me, she lowers her voice to a whisper and leans in to say something to Colin that I can't quite understand, except I seem to make out the words "prophecy" and "changeling."

  I see Colin's friends Myra and Ruby standing at the door, scanning the room, faces slack with bored indifference. But a distraction is a distraction, and I'll take what I can get right now. They see us and wave, their faces expressionless as they make their way to our table. They would get along splendidly with Dr. D.

  "Hey guys," Ruby says wearily as she dumps her small purse and leather jacket on the table in front of her and plops down into a seat.

  Myra doesn't greet us but continues scanning the room, lips pressed together in deep concentration.

  "The vibe here is weird," she points out as she runs a red-manicured fingertip across her lip.

  "I was thinking that, too," Sarah says, with her hand over her heart again, obviously happy to feel included.

  They have never mentioned it, but I suspect they are also part of Colin's circle of Druid friends.

  "Yeah, why exactly are we at a jazz place anyway, Colin?" Ruby says.

  "Well." Colin clicks his tongue a few times. "Sophie used to sing with the band that's performing here tonight. They’ve asked her up on stage during their set to sing her signature number."

  Signature Number.

  And that's when it hits me. I haven't sung in a while. Not even along with the radio. My heart lurches in my chest and my mouth goes dry. Why hadn't I thought of this earlier? Before I accepted the gig? Leaving the band as abruptly as I did was bad enough. Now I'm doing a reunion show?

  I turn to look at the stage, hoping that the familiar sight of the Jamie Owens Trio’s equipment might bring it all back to me. But there is nothing that is familiar to me on that small stage. Jamie was never one for flashy gear, and seemed to think that the battered, nondescript stuff he always used was better for his sound.

  "You can sing?" Ruby asks, perking up slightly.

  "It was a while ago," I say, fidgeting uncomfortably in my seat. "Back in L.A. My mother and I needed the money, and I was open to pretty much any job that was legal."

  "She's good, too." Colin nudges my hand with his beer bottle. "I got the chance to see her perform once. Awesome, awesome band."

  "Well, I'm no Ella Fitzgerald. But I can manage." Ruby and Myra exchange one of their glances while Sarah sits back in her seat, toying with the ends of her hair. They probably have no idea who Ella Fitzgerald is. "As long as it's not vocally taxing," I continue. "I just don't really… I mean, it's been a while. It’s never really been my thing — just something I did to earn a few bucks. My voice is probably gone by now."

  I loved the time I spent singing with Jamie Owens, even if thinking of it is a reminder of how hard things used to be for my mother and me.

  "A woman of many talents," Colin says, playfully batting his lashes at me as his hand briefly connects with mine under the ta
ble. Sarah glowers, clearly sensing the chemistry that has developed between us. Colin gives my hand a reassuring squeeze before releasing it and turning to give his full attention to Sarah, while I sit there feeling confused and slightly ashamed.

  It's not an option. Colin is not an option.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see the band starting to set up on the small stage. I'm almost afraid to look. I want to see Jamie again, but am I ready to relive that part of my life right now? Am I ready to get on that stage and sing?

  "Sophia Kelly?" a voice calls from the stage behind me.

  I can't help the smile that creeps across my face as I turn to meet the voice. Sure enough, Jamie is threading his way between the tables from the other side of the room.

  "Ah, Sophe," he says, his face lighting up as I stand up to greet him.

  He immediately pulls me into a strong embrace.

  "Jamie," I gush, taking a step back to look at him.

  He's lost weight and shaved off what I always thought was a grizzly-looking lumberjack beard unbecoming a jazz guitarist, but aside from that he's the same old Jamie. Even without the beard, he looks nothing like the typical jazz musician you'd expect to see playing in a place like this. Tall and barrel-chested with floppy brown hair, he seems more suited to being a bouncer or a bodyguard, but he's one of the best jazz guitarists I've ever heard.

  I introduce him to my friends and we make the usual small talk before he claps me on the shoulder. "Ready to sing?"

  "I think so," I say uneasily. "It's been a while, though." I glance around me. "I hope no one's expecting much."

  The thought of singing with Jamie's band again is somewhat exhilarating, and something I thought would fit into the otherwise carefree attitude I'd set out with this evening. But the little voice in the back of my head is warning me, and a sense of dread begins to pool in the pit of my stomach.

  The band plays the first few songs just as I remember, and the music brings back a flood of memories. Singing with the band was a terrific experience, but the circumstances surrounding my reasons for getting the gig to begin with are not things I want to remember. It's very bittersweet. Most of my growing up was bittersweet.