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Hell On Heels(48)

By:Robyn Peterman

Grandpa was still enjoying himself at my expense so it took him a moment to gather his cute little self. My jaw clenched and I pressed my hands firmly down on the kitchen table. I had the urge to grab and squeeze him, but I knew I could control it.
“Dixie, Dixie.” He sighed the way one does after a good hearty laugh. “Rules don’t apply to me.”
He giggled and squeezed himself. Holy Hell, he’d better not do that. I wasn’t sure I could curb my hugging impulses if he was going to rub my face in it by loving on himself.#p#分页标题#e#
“Grandpa.” I turned away from him. I was seconds away from smothering him with kisses. “Does Dad know you’re here?”
“Not exactly, but Cole and the generals do. Those bastards are everywhere.” He got serious. “Your father suspects. He wants me here, but he can’t say that since he already laid down the law. Sooo he simply turned his head and pretended he had no idea what my plans were. Furthermore.” He grinned evilly. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but it’s quite difficult to say no to me.”
“I’ve noticed.” Amusement colored my voice and I gently touched his face. “Why are you really here?”
“I miss you." It was all I could do not to tackle him and cuddle.
“Is that all?”
He tended to save the best for last.
“Um, no.” He smiled sheepishly and took another swig of milk. “You have to drink from me again. It takes two times to ensure the Black Magic has taken and I need to implant several random messages into your head.”
“Like that wasn’t random enough?” I swallowed and attempted to tamp down my gag reflex. Blood after Rice Krispie treats did not sound good to me right now. . .actually ever.
“I understand how drinking from me doesn’t appeal. Hades knows it freaks me out, but you’re too important to the world for me not to do this. Not to mention I love you more than all of your sisters put together. You have never broken one bone in my body!”
As immature as it was, I loved knowing I was his favorite. “Grandpa, it’s just that blood tastes so. . .” I shut my mouth. It filled with water and I knew I was close to hurling. I refused to vomit. If I vomited, he’d vomit and I’d still have to drink his blood. Oh, Uncle God, please help me.
“What if I put chocolate syrup in my mouth and then drink your blood? Will that screw anything up?” I asked, praying to Satan that my mouth would stop watering.
He wrung his hands and considered my suggestion. “I don’t see why not. It certainly makes me happier to know that you’re happy.”
I quickly grabbed the Hershey’s Syrup from the fridge while Grandpa slit his throat. I squirted a gob of liquid chocolate into my mouth and latched onto my beloved grandpa’s bloody neck.
It really was much better this way. The chocolate-blood mix tasted a bit rank, but it was greatly improved from the first blood suck-a-thon.
A burning heat rushed through my body, but instead of being scared this time I went with it. I held tightly to Grandpa as I started to convulse. I shook violently for about two minutes, then it subsided. The burning and churning was alarming, but doable because I knew it would end. I felt floaty and springy. The magic whooshed through me.
The sound of wind chimes bounced around inside my head and a feeling of absolute power consumed and unnerved me. I pulled back and searched my grandpa’s face. He was weaker and I was stronger.
“Am I killing you?” I gasped as I cuddled him carefully.
“No, my love.” His smile broadened with love and approval. “You are becoming stronger than me.”
“No,” I cried out. This was all wrong.
“Yes.” His mood was thoughtful. “This is the way it is meant to be. It should have been years from now before we had to do all this, but. . .” He faded off.
“But what?” I shook him gently. My life and future were spinning out of control.
“But so much is happening, you are the only one to solve it. . .end it.” His smile was sad.
I touched his neck and closed the knife wound. My body automatically knew how to do things that my brain had no idea I could.
“What else do I need to know?”
“Absolute power can corrupt absolutely. People aren’t always who you think they are and the old ones have wisdom. . .most of the time.”
“Is that all?”
“For now,” he added cryptically.
“Oookay.” I shook my head in frustration. “And what am I supposed to do until I understand all your messages and try not to get killed?”
"Oh, you know,” he said as he giggled. “Go to community college, make friends, visit your cousin Astrid, practice Black Magic, have fun. The usual.”