Cat Adams - Blood Song

the other patients in the lobby. “How dare you!”

It was a big lobby, but I had barely enough time to stand before she was in front of me. She swung her

hand back, intending to slap me, but I caught her arm and blocked the blow before she could make

contact. If I hadn’t had control of my senses, I would have snapped it in two. As it was, she let out a little

wince.

“What the hel , Cassandra!”

The bodyguards stepped between us, and Jason pul ed his wife against him. She didn’t stop

struggling. She was just too furious. I only wished I knew why.

“What the hel is the matter with you?” I tried to talk to her between the twin wal s of muscle that had

interposed themselves between us. Creede and two others were fanned out around Jason.

“How dare you!” she repeated, her voice a venomous hiss.

I shivered, from both the look on her face and a blast of frigid air I hoped was coming from the air

conditioner. The last thing we needed was for Ivy to start acting out.

“What exactly is it you think I did?” I asked Jason. He was rigid with fury, but he was being quiet about

it, because we had company. Pretty much everyone in the building had come running to see what had

Cassandra Meadows screaming like a shrew. She’d be damned lucky if there weren’t cel phone

photos up on the Internet before sundown.

Creede answered, his voice calm but cold. “Someone leaked a story to the press about Vicki’s stay

here. It was very specific about the number of visits her parents have made, and it was il ustrated with

an assortment of pictures of her with you.” There was a look on his face that I didn’t like. It was both

disappointed and disgusted … like he’d thought better of me and I’d let him down.

Obviously, I hadn’t done it, but as I stared at him, a hideous thought formed in my mind. I didn’t want

to, but I had to ask. “Were they taken at a family dinner?”

He nodded and my heart sank. I’d always thought my mother had some limits. Apparently, I was

wrong. I wasn’t sure how she could have found out about the number of visits, but money crossing

palms was probably involved.

“I could kill you.” Cassandra had lowered her voice, but it was intense. At that moment, she meant

every word. It wouldn’t do any good to protest my innocence. And in a way, it was my fault. Leaving

those photos at my gran’s was the equivalent of leaving a diamond necklace in front of a kleptomaniac.

The temperature dropped even more, and at least one of the big brutes in front of me knew what it

meant. His expression grew wary … right before it was wiped clean like a slate. He turned to face

Jason and Cassandra, but the movement wasn’t his. Before, he’d moved with the speed and grace of

a predator. This move was softer, more feminine. It takes a hel of a lot of ghost to do something like

that. We’re talking serious mojo. I felt a shiver of primal terror run down my spine like ice water. I

shuddered but forced the fear down, slamming the door on it.

“She didn’t do it, Mother.” It was Vicki’s voice, but cold, hard, unlike anything I’d ever heard from her.

Objects began levitating, slowly at first, then with building momentum. The stereo that had been playing

soft music in the background burst into sudden earsplitting static. I knew what that meant, knew that I

had to stop her before someone got hurt.

“Vicki, stop it! Stop!” I shouted at the top of my lungs to be heard over the din. Everything stopped as

abruptly as if I’d hit a switch. Flying objects dropped to the floor. The stereo shut off.

“You’re crying.” Vicki’s voice softened, sounding more like the woman I knew. Objects started rising

again. “She made you cry.”

I interrupted Vicki before things could get even further out of hand. “It’s been a rough couple of days.

See, I lost my best friend the other day—” I tried to make it light, sarcastic, but my voice cracked. Not

only was I scared, I hurt. This was Vicki, or a part of her. And I missed her. So much had happened in

such a short time that this loss hadn’t real y had time to sink in. She was dead. Gone. Forever. This

might very wel be the last time I ever got to hear her voice.

I closed my eyes against the pain, tears pouring down my cheeks.

Usual y ghosts feel cold, but this one didn’t. The air moving around me in a gentle breeze was warm

and scented lightly with a familiar perfume. I felt a finger trace the curve of my cheek.

I took a ragged breath, fighting to get myself under control. It took a couple of false starts before I

could speak, forcing words past the hard lump that had formed in my throat. I kept my eyes closed,

preserving the il usion of the Vicki I remembered. “Your mom loves you, Vicki. That’s why she tried to

slap me. She thought I’d betrayed you, and them.”

“You wouldn’t.” Anger was seeping back into the voice, it was getting hol ow, deeper.

“No. But she didn’t know that. She’s never had a woman friend. There’s no way she could

understand.”

I heard movement, smel ed a different, heavier scent, and knew Cassandra was there. She spoke to

the ghost, her voice rough with emotion. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry. I was wrong, about her, about

everything. I’d do anything to take it back, to fix things.”

“You can’t. I’m dead.”

Ouch. Ghosts can’t lie, but that was cold, and harsh as hel .

I opened my eyes, staring at the man whose body she was using. “Vicki. She said she’s sorry, that

she was wrong. What else can she do?” I felt the air go stil around me. I was close, so close. If I said

the right words, Vicki would let go, cross over, and be free. But she’d also be lost to me forever. It took

more effort than was pretty for me to make myself say the words I uttered next, but sometimes you

have to do the hard thing. “I love you, Vick, I do. And I don’t want you stuck here forever because you

refuse to forgive her. You deserve better than that. You are better than that. You have to let it go.”

The ensuing silence was profound. I think we al were holding our breath, waiting. And then the

bodyguard spoke again. “I’m not here because of her, Celie.” Just that. Then the air pressure in the

room changed enough that my ears popped. And the hulking bodyguard I’d been talking to col apsed

bonelessly to the floor.

22

Well, that was certainly …” Dr. Greene struggled to find the right word. She eventual y settled on,

“interesting.”

I smiled a little wryly, and she smiled, too. It was a good, professional smile, showing straight teeth

and general good humor, but without any particular meaning. I wasn’t surprised. She looked every inch

a professional, from the tips of her sensible-but-stylish pumps to the no-nonsense-but-flattering cut of

her short, dark hair. Her makeup was understated, her jewelry tasteful. Her suit was nice and fit wel but

was a mid-range gray, worn with a plain white blouse. Her whole appearance was meant to be

professional, comforting, and non-threatening. Which, I supposed, made perfect sense.

We had adjourned to her office, leaving Dr. Scott to deal with Cassandra, Jason, and everyone else

in the lobby. I was glad to be away from them. The whole scene had been too much. An emotional