THE MUTED LIGHT OF ANOTHER CLOUDY DAY EVENTUALLY WOKE ME. I lay with
my arm across my eyes, groggy and dazed. Something, a dream trying to be remembered, struggled to break into my consciousness. I moaned and rolled on my side, hoping more sleep would come. And then yesterday came flooding back into my memory.
“Oh!” I sat up so fast it made my head spin.
“Your hair also has the ability to defy gravity.” Her amused voice came from the rocking chair in the corner. “It’s like your own superpower.”
Automatically, I reached up to pat my hair down.
She sat crossed-legged in the chair, a perfect smile on her perfect face. “You stayed.” It was like I hadn’t woken up after all.
“Of course. That’s what you wanted, correct?” I nodded.
She smiled wider. “It’s what I wanted, too.”
I staggered out of the bed, not sure where I was going, only that I needed to be closer to her. She waited for me, and there was no surprise in her face when I sank to my knees in front of her. I reached up slowly and laid my palm against the side of her face. She leaned into my hand, her eyes slipping closed.
“Charlie?” I asked. We’d both been speaking at normal volume. “He left an hour ago, with an amazing amount of gear.”
He’d be gone all day. So it was just me and Edythe, in an empty house, with no need to go anywhere. So much time. I felt like some crazy old
miser, gloating over his piles of gold coins, only instead of coins, it was seconds that I hoarded.
It was only then that I realized she’d changed her clothes. Instead of the thin-strapped tank top, she wore a peach-colored sweater.
“You left?” I asked.
She opened her eyes and smiled, putting one of her hands up to keep mine against her face. “I could hardly leave in the clothes I came in—what would the neighbors think? In any case, I was only gone for a few minutes and you were very deeply asleep at that point, so I know I didn’t miss anything.”
I groaned. “What did I say?”
Her eyes got a little wider, her face more vulnerable. “You said you loved me,” she whispered.
“You already knew that.”
“It was different, hearing the words.”
I stared into her eyes. “I love you,” I said.
She leaned down and rested her forehead carefully against mine. “You are my life now.”
We sat like that for a long time, until finally my stomach grumbled. She sat up, laughing.
“Humanity is so overrated,” I complained. “Should we begin with breakfast?”
I threw my free hand over my jugular, my eyes wild.
She flinched; then her eyes narrowed and she scowled at me. I laughed. “Come on, you know that was funny.”
She was still frowning. “I disagree. Shall I rephrase? Breakfast time for the human?”
“Okay. I need another human minute first, if you don’t mind.” “Of course.”
“Stay.”
She smiled.
I brushed my teeth twice again, then rushed through my shower. I ripped through my wet hair with a comb, trying to make it lie flat. It ignored me pretty thoroughly. And then I hit a wall. I’d forgotten to bring clothes with me.
I hesitated for a minute, but I was too impatient to panic long. There was
no help for it. I tucked the towel securely around my waist and then marched into the hall with my face blazing red. Even better—the patch of red on my chest was exposed, too. I stuck my head around the edge of the doorframe.
“Um…”
She was still in the rocking chair. She laughed at my expression. “Shall we meet in the kitchen, then?”
“Yes, please.”
She was past me in a rush of cool air, down the stairs before a second had passed. I was barely able to follow the motion—she was just a streak of pale color, then nothing.
“Thanks,” I called after her, then hurried to my dresser.
I knew I should probably put some thought into what I wore, but I was in a hurry to get downstairs. I did think to grab a pullover, so she wouldn’t worry about me getting cold.
I raked my fingers through my hair to calm it again, then ran down the stairs.
She was leaning against the counter, looking very at home. “What’s for breakfast?” I asked.
That threw her for a minute. Her brows pulled together. “I’m not sure.
… What would you like?”
I laughed. “That’s all right, I fend for myself pretty well. You’re allowed to watch me hunt.”
I got a bowl and a box of cereal. She returned to the chair she’d sat in last night, watching as I poured the milk and grabbed a spoon. I set my food on the table, then paused. The empty space in front of her on the table made me feel rude.
“Um, can I… get you anything?” She rolled her eyes. “Just eat, Beau.”
I sat at the table, watching her as I took a bite. She was gazing at me, studying my every movement. It made me self-conscious. I swallowed so I could speak, wanting to distract her.
“Anything on the agenda today?”
“Maybe,” she said. “That depends on whether or not you like my idea.” “I’ll like it,” I promised as I took a second bite.
She pursed her lips. “Are you open to meeting my family?”
I choked on my cereal.
She jumped up, one hand stretched toward me helplessly, probably thinking about how she could crush my lungs if she tried to give me the Heimlich. I shook my head and motioned for her to sit while I coughed the milk out of my windpipe.
“I’m good, I’m good,” I said when I could speak. “Please don’t do that to me again, Beau.” “Sorry.”
“Maybe we should have this conversation after you’re done eating.” “Okay.” I needed a minute anyway.
She was apparently serious. And I guess I’d already met Archie and it hadn’t been that bad. And Dr. Cullen, too. But that had been back before I’d known Dr. Cullen was a vampire, which changed things. And while I had known with Archie, I didn’t know if he knew that I knew, and that felt like kind of an important distinction to me. Also, Archie was the most supportive, according to Edythe.
There were others who were obviously not as generous.
“I’ve finally done it,” she murmured when I swallowed the last bite and pushed the bowl away.
“What did you do?” “Scared you.”
I thought about that for a moment, then held up my hand, fingers spread, and waved it from side to side in the international symbol for Kinda, yeah.
“I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you,” she assured me.
But that just made me worry more that someone—Royal—would want to, and she would get in between to rescue me. I didn’t care what she said about holding her own and not fighting fair, that idea really freaked me out.
“No one would try, Beau, that was a joke.”
“I don’t want to cause you any problems. Do they even know that I know?”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, they’re quite up to date. It’s not really possible to keep secrets in my house, what with our various parlor tricks. Archie had already seen that your dropping by was a possibility.”
I could feel a variety of expressions rippling across my face before I could control it. What all did Archie see? Yesterday… last night… My face got hot.
I saw her eyes narrow the way they did when she was trying to read my mind.
“Just thinking about what Archie might have seen,” I explained before she could ask.
She nodded. “It can feel invasive. But he doesn’t do it on purpose. And he sees so many different possibilities… he doesn’t know which will happen. For example, he saw over a hundred different ways that yesterday could have gone, and you only survived about seventy-five percent of the scenarios.” Her voice got very hard at the last part, her posture brittle. “They’d taken bets, you know, as to whether I would kill you.”
“Oh.”
Her expression was still rigid. “Do you want to know who sided for and against?”
“Um, maybe not. Tell me after I meet them. I don’t want to go into this prejudiced.”
Surprise erased the anger from her face. “Oh. You’ll go, then?”
“It seems like… the respectful thing to do. I don’t want them to think I’m shady.”
She laughed, a long, bell-like peal. I couldn’t help but smile.
“Does that mean I get to meet Charlie, too, then?” she asked eagerly. “He’s already suspicious, and I’d rather not be shady, either.”
“I mean, sure, but what should we tell him? I mean, how do I explain…?”
She shrugged. “I doubt he’ll struggle too hard with the idea of your having a girlfriend. Though it’s a loose interpretation of the word girl, I’ll admit.”
“Girlfriend,” I mumbled. “It sounds… not enough.” Mostly, it sounded transitory. Something that didn’t last.
She stroked one finger down the side of my face. “Well, I don’t know if we need to give him all the gory details, but he will need some explanation for why I’m around here so much. I don’t want Chief Swan putting a restraining order on me.”
“Will you really be here?” I asked, suddenly anxious. It seemed too good to be true, something only a fool would count on.
“As long as you want me.”
“I’ll always want you,” I warned her. “I’m talking about forever here.”
She put her fingers against my lips, and her eyes closed. It was almost like she wished I hadn’t said that.
“Does that make you… sad?” I asked, trying to put a name to the expression on her face. Sad seemed closest.
Her eyes opened slowly. She didn’t answer, she just stared into my eyes for a long time. Finally she sighed.
“Shall we?”
I glanced at the clock on the microwave automatically. “Isn’t it a little ear—wait, forget I asked that.”
“Forgotten.”
“Is this okay?” I wondered, gesturing to my clothes. Should I dress up more?
“You look…” She suddenly dimpled up. “Delicious.” “So you’re saying I should change?”
She laughed and shook her head. “Never change, Beau.”
Then she stood and took a step toward me, so that her knees were pressed against mine. She put her hands on either side of my face and leaned down till her face was just an inch from mine.
“Carefully,” she reminded me.
She tilted her head to the side and closed the distance between us. With the lightest pressure, her lips touched mine.
Carefully! I shouted in my head. Just don’t move. My hands balled into fists. I knew she would feel the blood pulsing into my face.
Slowly, her lips moved against mine. As she got more sure of herself, her lips were firmer. I felt them part slightly, and her breath washed cool across my mouth. I didn’t inhale. I knew how her scent made me do stupid things.
Her fingers stroked from my temples to my chin, and then hooked under my jaw and pulled my lips tighter to hers.
Careful! I shouted at myself.
And then, out of nowhere, the dizzy, hollow ringing sound started up in my ears. At first I couldn’t concentrate on anything but her lips, but then I started to fall down the tunnel and her lips were getting farther and farther away.
“Beau? Beau?” “Hey,” I tried to say.
“What happened? Are you all right?” The sound of her anxiety helped bring me around. I wasn’t totally gone, so it was fairly easy. I took two deep breaths and opened my eyes.
“I’m fine,” I told her. She was leaning away, but her arms were stretched out to me; one hand was cold on my forehead, the other on the back of my neck. Her face looked paler than usual. “Just… kind of forgot to breathe for a minute there. Sorry.” I took another deep breath.
She eyed me doubtfully. “You forgot to breathe?” “I was trying to be careful.”
Suddenly she was angry. “What am I supposed to do with you, Beau?
Yesterday, I kiss you, and you attack me! Today, you pass out!” “Sorry.”
She sighed deeply, then darted in suddenly to kiss my forehead. “It’s a good thing that it’s physically impossible for me to have a heart attack,” she grumbled.
“That is good,” I agreed.
“I can’t take you anywhere like this.”
“No, I’m fine, really. Totally back to normal. Besides, your family is going to think I’m insane anyway, so what’s the difference if I’m a little unsteady?”
She frowned. “You mean more unsteady than usual?”
“Sure. Look, I’m trying not to think about what we’re going to do now, so it would help if we could get going.”
She shook her head but took my hand and pulled me out of the chair.
This time she didn’t even ask, she just headed straight for the driver’s side of my truck. I figured there was no point in arguing after my latest embarrassing episode, and anyway, I had no idea where she lived.
She drove respectfully, without any complaints about what my truck could handle. She took us north out of town, over the bridge at the Calawah River, and continued till we were past all the houses and on to close-packed trees. I was starting to wonder how far we were going when she abruptly steered right onto an unpaved road. The turnoff was unmarked, and almost totally hidden by thick ferns. The trees leaned close on both sides, so you could only see a few yards ahead before the road twisted out of sight.
We drove down this road for a least a few miles, mostly east. I was trying to fit this lane into the vague map I had in my head, not very
successfully, when there was suddenly some thinning of the forest. She drove into a meadow… or was it a lawn? It didn’t get much brighter, though. There were six enormous cedars—maybe the biggest trees I’d ever seen—whose branches shaded an entire acre. They pushed right up against the house in the middle of the lawn—hiding it.
I don’t know what I expected, but it definitely wasn’t this. The house was probably a hundred years old, three stories high and kind of… graceful, if that word could be applied to a house. It was painted a soft, faded white and all the windows and doors looked original, but they were probably in too good shape for that to be true. My truck was the only car in sight. When Edythe shut off the engine, I could hear the sound of a river somewhere close by.
“Wow.”
“You like it?”
“It’s… really something.”
Suddenly she was outside my door. I opened it slowly, starting to feel the nerves I’d been trying to suppress.
“Are you ready?” “Nope. Let’s do this.”
She laughed, and I tried to laugh with her, but the sound seemed to get stuck in my throat. I mashed my hair flat.
“You look great,” she said, then took my hand casually, like she didn’t even have to think about it anymore. It wasn’t a big thing, but it distracted me—made me feel just a little bit less panicky.
We walked through the deep shade up to the porch. I knew she could feel my tension. She reached across her body to put her free hand on my forearm for a second. Then she opened the front door and walked inside, towing me behind her.
The inside was even less like what I was expecting than the outside. It was very bright, very open, and very big. It must have started out as several rooms, but most of the walls had been removed from the first floor to create one wide space. The back, south-facing wall had been entirely replaced with glass. Past the cedars the lawn was open, and it stretched down to a wide river. A massive staircase dominated the west side of the room. The walls, the high ceiling, the wooden floors, and the thick carpets were all different shades of white.
Edythe’s parents were waiting for us. They stood just to the left of the door on a little platform in front of a huge grand piano. It was also white.
I’d seen Dr. Cullen before, of course, but it hit me again how young she was, and how outrageously beautiful. She was holding hands with Earnest, I assumed—he was the only one of the family I’d never seen before. He seemed about the same age as Dr. Cullen, maybe a few years older, and had the same pale, perfect features as the rest of them. He had wavy hair, the color of caramel, a few inches longer than mine. There was something really… kind about his face, but I couldn’t put my finger on what it was that made me think that. They were both dressed casually in light colors that matched the inside of the house.
They smiled, but made no move to approach. I thought they were probably trying not to scare me.
“Carine, Earnest, this is Beau,” Edythe said.
“You’re very welcome, Beau.” Carine stepped forward, slow and careful. She raised her hand hesitantly. I stepped forward to shake, and I was kind of surprised by how okay it felt to do that. Maybe it was because she reminded me of Edythe in a lot of ways.
“It’s nice to see you again, Dr. Cullen.” “Please, call me Carine.”
I grinned at her, surprised that I felt pretty confident. “Carine,” I repeated. Edythe squeezed my hand lightly.
Earnest stepped forward as well, offering his hand. His cold, stone grasp was just what I expected.
“It’s very nice to know you,” he said sincerely.
“Thank you, I’m glad to meet you, too.” And I was. This felt right. This was Edythe’s home, her family. It was good to be a part of it.
“Where are Archie and Jess?” Edythe asked.
No one answered, because they’d just appeared at the top of the stairs. “Hey, Edy’s home!” Archie called, and then he streaked down the stairs,
just a blur of pale skin, coming to a sudden stop right in front of us. I saw Carine and Earnest shoot warning glances at him, but I kind of liked it. It was natural for him—how they moved when they didn’t have to worry about strangers watching.
“Beau!” he greeted me, enthusiastic like we were old friends. He held out his hand, and when I went to shake it, he pulled me into one of those
one-armed bro-hugs, thumping me lightly on the back.
“Hey, Archie,” I said; my voice sounded winded. I was shocked, but also a little pleased that he really did seem supportive—more than that, like he already liked me.
When he stepped back, I saw that I wasn’t the only one who was shocked. Carine and Earnest were watching my face with wide eyes, like they were waiting for me to make a run for it. Edythe’s jaw was locked, but I couldn’t tell if she was worried or mad.
“You do smell good, I never noticed before,” Archie commented. My face got hot, and then hotter when I thought what that must look like to them, and nobody seemed to know what to say.
Then Jessamine was there. Edythe had compared herself to a hunting lion, which was hard for me to picture, but I could easily picture Jessamine that way. There was something like a lion about her now, when she was just standing there. But despite that, I was suddenly totally comfortable. It felt like I was in my own place surrounded by people I knew well. Easy—kind of like when Jules was around. It was strange to feel that here, and then I remembered what Edythe had told me about what Jessamine could do. That was weird to think about. It didn’t feel like someone was using magic or whatever on me.
“Hello, Beau,” Jessamine said. She didn’t approach or offer to shake my hand, but it didn’t feel awkward.
“Hello, Jessamine.” I smiled at her, and then the others. “It’s nice to meet you all—you have a very beautiful home,” I added conventionally.
“Thank you,” Earnest said. “We’re so glad that you came.” He spoke with feeling, and I realized that he thought I was brave.
I also realized that Royal and Eleanor were nowhere to be seen, and while I was relieved, I was also kind of disappointed. It would have been nice to get that out of the way with Jessamine here, making me feel calm.
I noticed Carine gazing meaningfully at Edythe with a pretty intense expression. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Edythe nod just slightly.
I felt like I was eavesdropping, so I looked away. My eyes wandered over to the beautiful piano on the platform. I suddenly remembered a childhood fantasy that, when I was older and somehow a millionaire, I was going to buy a grand piano for my mother. She wasn’t really good—she only played for herself on our secondhand upright—but I loved to watch
her play. She was happy, absorbed—she seemed like a new, mysterious person to me then. She’d put me in lessons, of course, but like most kids, I whined until she let me quit.
Earnest noticed my stare. “Do you play?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Not at all. But it’s really beautiful. Is it yours?” “No,” he laughed. “Didn’t Edythe tell you she was musical?”
“Uh, she hasn’t mentioned it. But I guess I should have known, right?” Earnest raised his eyebrows, confused.
“Is there anything she’s not good at?” I asked rhetorically.
Jessamine barked out a laugh, Archie rolled his eyes, and Earnest gave Edythe a very fatherly look, which was impressive considering how young he seemed.
“I hope you haven’t been showing off,” he said. “It’s rude.”
“Oh, just a little bit.” Edythe laughed—the sound was infectious, and everyone smiled, including me. Earnest smiled the widest, though, and he and Edythe shared a brief look.
“Edythe, you should play for him,” Earnest said. “You just said showing off was rude.”
“Make an exception.” He smiled at me. “I’m being selfish. She doesn’t play enough, and I love to hear her.”
“I’d like to hear you play,” I told her.
She gave Earnest a long, exasperated look, then turned the same look on me. When that was done, she dropped my hand and walked up to sit on the bench. She patted the spot next to her and then looked back at me.
“Oh,” I mumbled, and went to join her.
As soon as I sat down, her fingers started flowing across the keys, filling the room with a piece so complex and full it was impossible to believe only one person was playing. My mouth fell open in shock, and I heard chuckling behind me.
Edythe looked at me casually while the music surged around us without a break. “Do you like it?”
I got it immediately. Of course. “You wrote this.” She nodded. “It’s Earnest’s favorite.”
I sighed. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m just… feeling a little insignificant.”
She thought about that for a minute, and then the music changed slowly into something softer… something familiar. It was the lullaby she’d hummed to me, only a thousand times more intricate.
“I thought of this one,” she said quietly, “while I watched you sleeping.
It’s your song.”
The song turned even softer and sweeter. I couldn’t speak.
Then her voice was normal again. “They like you quite a bit, you know.
Earnest especially.”
I glanced behind me, and the big room was empty. “Where did they go?”
“Giving us some privacy. Subtle, aren’t they?”
I laughed, then frowned. “It’s nice that they like me. I like them. But Royal and Eleanor…”
Her expression tightened. “Don’t worry about Royal. He’s always the last to come around.”
“Eleanor?”
She laughed sharply. “El thinks I’m a lunatic, it’s true, but she doesn’t have a problem with you. She’s off trying to reason with Royal now.”
“What did I do?” I had to ask. “I mean, I’ve never even spoken to—” “You didn’t do anything, Beau, honestly. Royal struggles the most with
what we are. It’s hard for him to have someone on the outside know the truth. And he’s a little jealous.”
“Hah!”
She shrugged. “You’re human. He wishes he were, too.” That brought me up short. “Oh.”
I listened to the music, my music. It kept changing and evolving, but the heart of it stayed the same. I wasn’t sure how she did it. She didn’t seem to be paying much attention to her hands.
“That thing Jessamine does feels really… not strange, I guess. It was kind of incredible.”
She laughed. “Words don’t fully do it justice, do they?” “Not really. But… does she like me? She seemed…”
“That was my fault. I told you she was the most recent to try our way of life. I warned her to keep her distance.”
“Oh.”
“Indeed.”
I worked hard not to shudder.
“Carine and Earnest think you’re wonderful,” she told me.
“Huh. I really didn’t do anything very exciting. Shook a few hands.” “They’re happy to see me happy. Earnest probably wouldn’t care if you
had a third eye and webbed feet. All this time he’s been worrying about me, afraid I was too young when Carine changed me, that there was something missing from my essential makeup. He’s so relieved. Every time I touch you, he practically bursts into applause.”
“Archie’s enthusiastic.”
She made a face. “Archie has his own special perspective on life.” I looked at her for a moment, weighing her expression.
“What?” she asked.
“You’re not going to explain what you mean by that, are you?”
Her eyes narrowed as she stared back at me, and a moment of wordless communication passed between us—almost like what I’d seen between her and Carine before, except without the benefit of mind reading. I knew she wasn’t telling me something about Archie, something her attitude toward him had been hinting at for a long time. And she knew that I knew, but she wasn’t going to give anything away. Not now.
“Okay,” I said, like we’d spoken all that out loud. “Hmm,” she said.
And because I’d just thought of it… “So what was Carine telling you before?”
She was looking at the keys now. “You noticed that, did you?” I shrugged. “Of course.”
She stared at me thoughtfully for a moment before she answered. “She wanted to tell me some news. She didn’t know if it was something I would share with you.”
“Will you?”
“It’s probably a good idea. My behavior might be a little… odd for the next few days—or weeks. A little maniacal. So it’s best if I explain myself beforehand.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, exactly. Archie just sees some visitors coming soon.
They know we’re here, and they’re curious.”
“Visitors?”
“Yes… like us, but not. Their hunting habits are not like ours, I mean. They probably won’t come into town at all, but I won’t be letting you out of my sight till they’re gone.”
“Wow. Shouldn’t we… I mean, is there a way to warn people?”
Her face was serious and sad. “Carine will ask them not to hunt nearby, as a courtesy, and most likely they won’t have a problem with that. But we can’t do more, for a variety of reasons.” She sighed. “They won’t be hunting here, but they’ll be hunting somewhere. That’s just how things are when you live in a world with monsters.”
I shivered.
“Finally, a rational response,” she murmured. “I was beginning to think you had no sense of self-preservation at all.”
I let that one pass, looking away, my eyes wandering again around the big white room.
“It’s not what you expected, is it?” she asked, and her voice was amused again.
“No,” I admitted.
“No coffins, no piled skulls in the corners; I don’t even think we have cobwebs… what a disappointment this must be for you.”
I ignored her teasing. “I didn’t expect it to be so light and so… open.”
She was more serious when she answered. “It’s the one place we never have to hide.”
My song drifted to an end, the final chords shifting to a more melancholy key. The last note lingered for a long moment, and something about the sound of that single note was so sad that a lump formed in my throat.
I cleared it out, then said, “Thank you.”
It seemed like the music had affected her, too. She stared searchingly at me for a long moment, and then she shook her head and sighed.
“Would you like to see the rest of the house?” she asked. “Will there be piled skulls in any corners?”
“Sorry to disappoint.”
“Well, okay, but my expectations are pretty low now.”
We walked up the wide staircase hand in hand. My free hand trailed along the satin-smooth rail. The hall at the top of the stairs was paneled in
wood the same pale color as the floorboards.
She gestured as we passed the doors. “Royal and Eleanor’s room… Carine’s office… Archie’s room…”
She would have continued, but I stopped dead at the end of the hall, staring with raised eyebrows at the ornament hanging on the wall above my head. Edythe laughed at my expression.
“Ironic, I know,” she said.
“It must be very old,” I guessed. I kind of wanted to touch it, to see if the dark patina was as silky as it looked, but I could tell it was pretty valuable.
She shrugged. “Early sixteen-thirties, more or less.” I looked away from the cross to stare at her.
“Why do you have this here?”
“Nostalgia. It belonged to Carine’s father.” “He collected antiques?”
“No. He carved this himself. It hung on the wall above the pulpit in the vicarage where he preached.”
I turned back to stare at the cross while I did the mental math. The cross was over three hundred and seventy years old. The silence stretched on as I struggled to wrap my mind around the concept of so many years.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
“How old is Carine?” I asked quietly, still staring up.
“She just celebrated her three hundred and sixty-second birthday,” Edythe said. She watched my expression carefully as she continued, and I tried to pull it together. “Carine was born in London in the sixteen-forties, she believes. Time wasn’t marked as accurately then, for the common people anyway. It was just before Cromwell’s rule, though.”
The name pulled up a few disjointed facts in my head, from a World History class I’d had last year. I should have paid more attention.
“She was the only daughter of an Anglican pastor. Her mother died in childbirth. Her father was… a hard man. Driven. He believed very strongly in the reality of evil. He led hunts for witches, werewolves… and vampires.”
It was strange how the word shifted things, made the story sound less like a history lesson.
“They burned a lot of innocent people—of course, the real creatures that
he sought were not so easy to catch.
“Carine did what she could to protect those innocents. She was always a believer in the scientific method, and she tried to convince her father to look past superstition to true evidence. He discouraged her involvement. He did love her, and those who defended monsters were often lumped in with them.
“Her father was persistent… and obsessive. Against the odds, he tracked some evidence of real monsters. Carine begged him to be careful, and he listened, to an extent. Rather than charge in blindly, he waited and watched for a long time. He spied on a coven of true vampires who lived in the city sewers, only coming out by night to hunt. In those days, when monsters were not just myths and legends, that was the way many lived.
“His people gathered their pitchforks and torches, of course”—she laughed darkly—“and waited where the pastor had seen the monsters exit into the street. There were two access points. The pastor and a few of his men poured a vat of burning pitch into one, while the others waited beside the second for the monsters to emerge.”
I realized I was holding my breath again, and made myself exhale. “Nothing happened. They waited a long time, and then left disappointed.
The pastor was angry—there must have been other exits, and the vampires had obviously fled in fear. Of course, the men with their crude spears and axes weren’t any kind of danger to a vampire, but he didn’t know that. Now that they were warned, how would he ever find his monsters again?”
Her voice got lower. “It wasn’t hard. He must have annoyed them. Vampires can’t afford notoriety, or these probably would have simply massacred the entire mob. Instead, one of them followed him home.
“Carine remembers the night clearly—for a human memory. It was the kind of thing that would stick in your mind. Her father came home very late, or rather very early. Carine had waited up, worried. He was furious, ranting and raving about his loss. Carine tried to calm him, but he ignored her. And then there was a man in the middle of their small room.
“Carine says he was ragged, dressed like a beggar, but his face was beautiful and he spoke in Latin. Because of her father’s vocation and her own curiosity, Carine was unusually educated for a woman in those days— she understood what the man said. He told her father that he was a fool and he would pay for the damage he had caused. The preacher threw himself in
front of his daughter to protect her.…
“I often wonder about that moment. If he hadn’t revealed what he loved most, would all our stories have changed?”
She was thoughtful for a few seconds, and then she continued. “The vampire smiled. He told the preacher, ‘Go to your hell knowing this—that what you love will become all that you hate.’
“He tossed the preacher to the side and grabbed Carine—”
She’d seemed lost in the story, but now she stopped short. Her eyes came back to the present, and she looked at me like she’d said something wrong. Or maybe she thought she’d upset me.
“What happened?” I whispered.
When she spoke, it was like she was choosing each word carefully. “He made sure that the preacher knew what would happen to Carine, and then he killed the preacher very slowly while Carine watched, writhing in pain and horror.”
I recoiled. She nodded in sympathy.
“The vampire left. Carine knew her fate if someone found her in this condition. Anything infected by the monster would have to be destroyed. She acted instinctively to save her own life. Despite the pain she was in, she crawled into the cellar and buried herself in a pile of rotting potatoes for three days. It’s a miracle she was able to keep silent, to stay undiscovered.
“It was over then, and she realized what she had become.”
I wasn’t sure what my face was doing, but she suddenly broke off again. “How are you feeling?” she asked.
“I’m good—what happened next?”
She half-smiled at my intensity, then turned back down the hall, pulling me with her.
“Come on, then,” she said. “I’ll show you.”
