A Sanguinary Rose (Complete)
A Crimson Halloween

By the time we made our way back to the school building at 3am, the dance had long been wrapped up, the students and staff had gone home, the lights had been switched off, and the doors had been bolted.

The windowpane was still flipped outward, with the biting wind whistling inside the hallways. Mr. Royce slipped in, rummaged through his pockets for a key, and turned the lock on the doors next to the window. Anja pushed it open, and Alan and Oliver hauled me inside.

Absolute silence reigned. Our footsteps echoed in an all-consuming darkness. Had I been human or alone, the dread to probe these halls would’ve been overwhelming. Anja and I were the only ones who could see, so she took the lead to guide the three others down the locker corridor and up a flight of stairs. The darkness was such that she still had to stop from door to door to inspect the brass plates on the walls.

“Here,” she said. It read ‘infirmary.’

Mr. Royce handed her the keys, and she unlocked the handle. The two boys brought me inside.

The sudden burst of light in the room left me blind, with black spots swimming in the back of my eyes. They helped me sit on the clinic table. Alan withdrew the pressure on my wound and chucked the bloodied pocket square into the trash can. My head lolled forward from drowsiness and I bolted upright when the sensation that I was falling kicked in.

Oliver held me by the shoulder. “Easy, easy.”

“First things first, we need to patch that up. Anja, find rubbing alcohol.” The teacher rummaged through the drawers. He retrieved tweezers, a scalpel, and sterile gauze pads. “Oliver, have her lie down.”

Frankly, I was happy to comply. I thudded like a plank face down on the table’s plastic mat and my mind turned off momentarily as an unconscious stream pulled me downriver into the world of dreams. When I felt the dress being sliced near my wound my eyes sprang open again.

Mr. Royce hovered the scalpel over my dress, plucking out strips of it and dropping them in the trash can. Sticky, dried blood daubed the fabric to the gruesome gash.

“Now tweezers, please,” the teacher said, holding out his hand behind his back, waiting for Alan to hand them over.

My eyes begged to be closed, and once again I felt the gentle, enticing pull to sleep. Whatever pain I’d felt before or whatever prickling, moistening, or swabbing sensations on my lower back were now of little concern.

“You should be good now,” Mr. Royce said, giving me a sudden start from my lethargy. “Of course, more due to your being not human than anything I’ve done to help, but it’s something.”

I rose slowly to a sitting position. A gauze pad covered my stab wound under a somewhat revealing, jagged gash in my red dress.

“Now your arm.”

I held it out droopily. The blood had dried up. There were two orifices, but my fangs had rent a bit of flesh along when my captor pulled my arm, trying to unclench my jaw.

“That was very brave of you,” Mr. Royce said, applying a thin layer of Neosporin cream and patching it up with a band-aid.

“Anja, what about you?” Oliver asked. “Your wrist looks hurt.”

Anja stashed her arm behind her back like a child would.

“No… what about it?”

“Aren’t you hurt, too? It looked bad from where I was standing.”

“No, I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Come on, let us see. What’s the issue?”

“Why do you insist so much?” Anja backed off a step. “Really, it’s fine.”

I figured she was trying to protect me. “Anja, please. Just show them. It’d be a good idea if they looked.”

She pursed her lips and extended her arm. The blood had been mostly raked off, but two tiny holes were plain to see on her wrist over a gash.

Anja sputtered. “But she only did it so it wouldn’t fester. I asked her to. I swear. Cross my heart.”

Alan gave me a dark look that sent chills down my spine, the same look he gave Elena before he turned her to a heap of ashes back in the lumber mill, the same he gave Tobias before he got away, the same he gave our captors tonight as he speared their hearts, so I turned away.

“I suppose that helps as a last recourse. I should still treat it though,” Mr. Royce said, turning over Anja’s wrist. “But what caused the gash in the first place?”

The girl fell silent, her gaze darting all over the place. I thought I knew the reason, but I wouldn’t betray her trust. If she opened up, that’d be her choice. My guess was she enjoyed the thrill of the bite, the adrenaline coursing fast through her body, the anesthetic doping her to oblivion—I felt it run through my veins when I bit myself—and in some distorted way, the intimacy of it—and she’d looking for a quick and easy replacement of that whole experience during a moment of weakness.

“I-I thought… It’s just… I thought it’d make me feel good.”

Oliver frowned at me in confusion. I shrugged.

Mr. Royce’s eyes widened. “How so?”

“Yeah… I thought it’d make… the pain go away, you know?” Anja’s lips trembled as she fought back tears. “It didn’t.”

“Time heals all wounds. We’ll talk about it later, okay?”

She nodded. The teacher finished patching her up.

Mr. Royce leaned against the counter. “Okay, now that we’re all reunited, let’s get to the crux of the issue.” He raised a finger, placing emphasis on each word. “Macabre cult offering. Halloween Dance. How do you connect the two? I’m wicked baffled. Baffled and relieved.”

I sat up, staring at Alan as though laying out all the blame on him. “Well, it had nothing or everything to do with Anja having a shitty time with her date. She stormed off,” of Anja’s hurt look I hurried to amend, “stole off in the night, I mean. I wasn’t sure whether she had her phone on her, yada-yada, so I followed her. You know, ’cuz I could smell the blood. Which, by the way, I think we left our purses at the table?”

Oliver gave me a sheepish smile. “They’re safe.”

“I see.” The teacher was rubbing his hands together abstractedly. He looked up. “Who was her date?”

My eyes suddenly felt ponderous. I looked at Anja drowsily. “Wanna take it from here?”

She recounted everything up to the part where Caspian ordered his thralls to chant, and forty undead machines marched down the piers and plunged in the lake.

“No protests? No revolts? They simply walked and keeled over?” Alan asked, his frown deeply set.

“You saw the ones you dusted. Just like those.”

“So about forty bloated corpses are in that lake as we speak?” Oliver’s face had blanched. “Remind me not to go there for a swim in the history of ever.”

“And the moon changed, too. Remember?” I told Anja.

They all stared at me like I was insane. “When? I don’t remember,” she said, and I knew she was serious.

“You didn’t see? Any of you? It turns big and red… and throbs like a fucking heart. Anja, I pointed it out the moment it happened.”

She fiddled with her fingers, her expression of real concern. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! But I swear I didn’t notice anything wrong with it.”

Mr. Royce raised his eyebrows. “Are you sure it happened while you were still awake?”

“Or high in the sky?” Alan butted in.

“Quiet, Alan. I believe you.” Mr. Royce turned to the others. “I’ve heard of such a thing as a blood moon, though not in the currents of daily life. It seems to be a common occurrence in legends, tales. Despite that, something about it rings true. It just… clicks.”

“I’ve never seen or heard anything of the sort,” Oliver added. Alan nodded in agreement.

The teacher took a deep breath. “I’ll look into it tomorrow. Did he mention any names or give any clues to what this ritual might be about?”

“He said ‘it’d be too much for my mind.’ He called it a necessary evil.”

“In dealing with the occult, those aren’t terms one throws around lightly,” Mr. Royce said. “Anyhow, I’m drawing blanks.”

“And who was that asshole, anyway? He must have been a head honcho of sorts to have the kind of security like the knights of Caim, no?” Oliver said.

I put two fingers against my throbbing temple. “But what’s the deal with those? At least you guys fended them off without a hitch.”

“We were lucky,” Mr. Royce said. “For one, their aim wasn’t to kill; they were buying time for their boss. Alan’s light slowed them down, impaired their senses. You also have to factor in time magic; it’s a huge advantage on our end.”

“Basically, it’s OP AF,” Oliver said, but turned bright red when the teacher gave him a glare.

“Yes, but also exhausting to maneuver and easy to mess up. Besides, we all worked together. Good job.” He exchanged looks with Alan and Oliver.

Anja gave a half-hearted whoop. “Yay.”

“The thing with House Caim is that it used to be… well, so all of you understand, pretty lame,” Oliver said. “But thanks to unending perseverance and an incredible skill at arms from their leaders, they managed to rise above other similar Houses. They provide top-notch security and thus, not anybody can afford them.”

“So, Caspian. Ring any bells?” I asked.

Mr. Royce furrowed his brow. “Not sure. Should it?”

“Thinks he’s the big shit. Brags about slaying a vampire called De Rosa and ending his reign of terror—his own father.”

“It rings a bell as vague as they come. I’d have to look into it. What I can tell you is he’s a dhampir: A vampire-human hybrid. These beings share many of the usual characteristics, such as, well, ‘better looks,’ enhanced senses and strength, but without the bothersome weaknesses such as the sun. They, however, can be killed as any other human.”

“He knew about Mandala and me and that whole dealio about me working for ORPHEUS.”

Oliver raised his arm as though he were to participate in class discussion. “You’re with ORPHEUS?”

I exchanged looks with the teacher. He checked on his pocket watch. “Up to you. Do you want to share that information?”

I took a deep breath and briefly recounted to Anja and Oliver, and Alan because he was there to listen, about my first meeting with Mandala, how I ended up at the Bureau after tailing two vampires and their victim, the threats they made, the internship I’d take on, and Mandala being the one to show me the ropes.

“I cannot imagine where we’d be if you guys hadn’t shown up on time. How did you find us though?”

Mr. Royce said: “It wasn’t simple. Alan knew Anja was in danger, he felt it. It’s a sort of sixth sense, a special connection guardian angels have with their wards. The rest required a complicated time spell—too elaborate.” He thumbed his watch’s glass dome. “Don’t dwell on it. I, for one, am glad we have an off day on the 31st. Stay safe. If you go partying or trick-or-treating remember to always be with a group. Don’t stray and don’t go off with strangers. In fact, it might be a good idea to spend Halloween inside your cozy homes.” He looked at each one of us. “I’ll drive you home for tonight. I’m sure we’re all yearning for a good night’s sleep.”

My inner vampire derided the futility in that statement. “Yeah, if that’s even possible anymore.”

***

I slept in through the afternoon, even after Mom tried to bust the door down to get me up. The stab wound sent jabs of pain rippling through my body, so I kept waking up and had to endure a restless night. At times I’d be floating in murky waters and a corpse with its skin pulled back would show its skull and drag me to the bottom, and when I did wake to Mom’s nagging complaints, it was with a kind of lethargy that pressed down on my eyes so heavily I’d succumb again.

At 3pm my throat was dry, and my tongue parched. Also, I had to pee. And half the muscles in my body ached like crazy, not to mention the wound.

I was healing fast, though. So I noticed after removing the gauze pad for a shower.

Hot water scalded my skin. It flowed soothingly through my hair and rolled down my back and over my shoulders. I sighed with relief as it muted the pain in my sore muscles. All the accumulated grime and gunk washed out and swirled in the drain in a crawling spiral.

I slipped into a pair of sports pants and a cozy hoodie, making sure my bitten arm stayed tucked in the sleeve. While Mom wasn’t looking, I snuck to the washer machine and scrubbed off the blood stains on her dress with cold water and detergent as much as I could. It had a few torn seams along the hip and the armpits, besides the gigantic gaping hole in the back. If I brought it to a tailor to fix it up before Mom asked to have it back it might just save my life and dispel suspicions.

Dinner happened to be my breakfast. Mom cooked capered salmon and mashed potatoes with gravy. I was starting to forget what my favorite dishes tasted like, and sometimes I wondered, was the trade-off worth it? I had had enough blood for the day, though, so I was satisfied, if you could call it that.

Dad rarely left his office when he wasn’t at the police station, except for dinner and bathroom breaks. Mom took that off-day for house cleaning and to go shopping for candy. Marcus was an early riser—he spent the day riding his bike around the neighborhood or playing basketball at the park with his friends.

As for me, yesterday’s ordeal was more than enough for one lifetime, so I decided to stay home all day to watch TV, or more accurately, to watch the clock on the wall tick its hands, and the sunlight between the shutters turn redder until dusk, because there was nothing on TV I could stand for over ten minutes. Oliver had entrusted Anja’s purse and mine to Melanie, much to my chagrin, so I was out of comms.

By 6pm the first trick-or-treaters started to arrive. Mom answered the door about four times before she ordered me to do it while she sank on the couch to take my cozy spot.

“Are you seriously going to have me like this until midnight?”

Mom sprawled her feet on the coffee table. “It’s hard work getting up every minute, you know?”

I dragged my feet to the door with a basket of candy on one hand. Five smiling faces greeted me outside—two kids and their dad. One of them had a lousy Pikachu costume, and another was dressed as a truck. It was like a pajama, but it had the hood of a truck made of the same fabric bulging out in front of his tummy. Somehow seeing their joy soured my day even more.

Their dad had fake fangs and dark paint under his eyes. Even he reached out with his own bag of candy. “Trick-or-treat! Wonderful evening, isn’t it?”

I dropped a fistful of candy into each of their bags. “Yeah.” And shut the door.

Not thirty seconds later and people were already ringing our bell. Three more kids and their mom. I handed out more candy. A minute later. More people. More candy. Seconds later the door rang again. I leaned against the wall and groaned. It rang again.

“Scarlett, the door.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

The kid in the Power Ranger costume shoveled through the candy I had dropped in his bag. “What’s this? No Hershey’s? I want a Hershey’s chocolate bar.”

I bared my fangs and hissed like a snake. Suddenly the chocolate was not as important, and he skedaddled with a yelp. “You shouldn’t be out all by yourself,” I shouted after him and shut the door.

After about an hour of rinse and repeat, a girl rang the doorbell.

“Boo!” Her slender physique looked familiar, so did her long-sleeved black-striped sweatshirt and black tight jeans, but her face was hidden behind an out-of-proportion Jack-o’-lantern mask.

“Scarlett?” She removed her mask. It was Morganne. “What are you doing here all tucked in like a little sparrow? They’re giving candy away FOR FREE, you know.”

“The question should be, why are you trick-or-treating? Aren’t you too old for that?”

“Nobody outgrows candy. Only if you’ve grown bitter with life.”

“Candy doesn’t taste like anything to me, remember? Why are you out here by yourself? Is no one taking any precautions anymore?”

“Say, what are you talking about?”

“Well, you know, people disappearing willy-nilly, weird cults running amok, murder/siring rates taking off, nay?”

“Nil, nope, no bells rung. So, what are you waiting for?”

I narrowed my eyes. “What for?”

She waved her candy bag in front of me. “Dish out those goodies if you don’t want slime in your hair.”

“Sure, sure.”

Mom’s voice came from the living room. The pleading tone in it told me it’d become an order if I said no. “Baby, would you mind taking your brother and his friends out to trick-or-treating?”

“I don’t think Dad would agree. Could be dangerous.”

“Your dad doesn’t agree with you taking night walks either, but you do it anyway.” Her knowing about it left me speechless. “Just look after them, will you? Be back before 10.”

“Fine, but now you’ll be answering the door.”

“Weeeell, I’m gonna get going, if you don’t mind…” Morganne was turning on her heels when I tapped her shoulders.

“Wanna join us?”

Her eyes shone with excitement. “If you really mean that, hell to the yeah.”

“Yeah, come on in.”

While waiting for my brother and his friends to arrive, the witch helped me answer the door. Essentially, we became the ‘scariest’ house in the neighborhood thanks to Morganne and her hijinks. She could make the whites in her eyes get much larger, which sent kids screaming the other way. And she’d croak out mock curses that would ‘delete’ the kids’ videogame files from their iPads. The adults took that jokingly, but for them she had in store raving lunacies, and would burst out ranting about conspiracy theories while I held down raucous laughter. It purged out the stress from the previous night. Laughing literally hurt my sides.

Marcus donned a pirate hat and an eye patch. David and Louis wore Darth Vader and Batman costumes, respectively. They were all either fourteen or fifteen years old. I could see Louis’ face turning red under his latex Batman cowl when I caught him staring, thinking I wouldn’t notice.

Morganne popped her head inside the oversized smiling pumpkin mask. “You’re not dressing up?”

“But I have.” I bared my fangs.

“Those look real, ya know?”

“Yes. Not one soul will say I’m cheap. Give me a moment.”

I ran to the kitchen, swiped a butcher’s knife from the stand, and tucked it in my hoodie’s kangaroo pocket.

Outside the air was crisp and growing colder by the minute. Lamp lights lit the streets, and most houses in the neighborhood glowed with bright Halloween paraphernalia as kids and their parents bustled down sidewalks in search of candy. There was no sign of the moon, which brought me relief after all my bad experiences.

It wasn’t long before the boys’ candy bags were filled to the brim.

Down by Thornwood Street a concert was blasting rock music in the open field. People raised their arms among the audience to upload their hectic, blurry clips online. The vocalist, dressed up as Jason Vorhees, flailed his head around so much I thought it would tear from his neck.

“Wanna slip inside?” Morganne said, snapping her fingers to the beat.

“Not really. I appreciate not going deaf. And that’s up to them.” I pointed at the three boys ahead as they butted jokes and gave each other a dead arm from time to time.

Morganne’s lips gave me a twisted smile. “If you asked, I’m sure at least one would say yes. Or I could jinx them to agree to anything we say.”

“Don’t do that.”

We came by Anja’s house as the number of trick-or-treaters thinned out. Her mother answered the door. She was pretty tall, a weretiger, and looking very much like her daughter.

“Good evening, Mrs. Lynn. How’s Anja?”

She smiled at me and gave the boys a handful of candy. “She went to bed early tonight. Unusual for her, but she’s doing well. Sweet of you to ask.”

From that interaction, I could tell she was left in the dark about Anja’s ordeals—getting abducted by vampires and nearly getting sacrificed at the lake—stay tuned for more.

There were fewer people outside now. I turned to Morganne as we came around into Hemlock Grove Drive. “Do you have your grimoire with you?”

“What kind of witch do you think I am? It never leaves my side.” She jammed her arm inside her kangaroo pouch and produced her dark leather-bound book. “Today I managed to make my hamster barf.”

“Isn’t that cruel?”

She twiddled with her thumbs. “I won’t do it again.”

“Any idea what your magic forte is going to be yet?”

“Yeah. Curses and hexes. Like having someone throw up or trip over when they call me creep. Or maybe have their cellphones blow up, like those in the news.”

I glanced at her. “Would you be able to say you can defend yourself with what you currently know? By casting spells and curses, yada-yada?”

I could tell she was looking at me weird under the mask. “Never thought of it that way. I like the way you think.”

“Well, can you?”

“Dunno. There’s always a first for everything. Why do you ask?”

“You can’t know when it’ll come in handy and save a couple of lives, just saying.”

As the hours drew by, I threw looks over my shoulder more often. Kids and their parents were the first to go home. Then the teens loitering in front of shops and parks decided their eggs could be thrown another day. The music from the concert died down and people stumbled on to their rides.

Marcus and his friends stopped for a quick bite out of their candy baskets on the swings. Us two took the park bench with our backs to them.

“Just a few more minutes and we’re going home.”

Marcus nipped at his chocolate bar. “Yeah, whatever.”

“Dude, your sister is pretty hot.” I wasn’t supposed to hear, but my enhanced senses made that a problem.

“Man, stop ogling her. It’s weird.”

“Yeah, she don’t go after fart faces like you.”

Then they were snickering.

While Morganne crammed peanuts and almonds down her throat, I surveyed the park and the roads all around us like a meerkat in the savannah, my eyes twitching here and there. More and more a sinking feeling in my gut had me wracking my nerves. It got too dark and too quiet all too soon. I’d had enough of that night. I wanted to go home.

“Okay, come on. We’re leav—” I stopped myself short.

Goose bumps covered my arms. There was a looming presence lurking the dark, approaching fast; I could sense it. I felt as though a fist had clutched my heart tightly.

Tobias.

I gasped for air.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Morganne asked, but fear’s chokehold kept me from answering her. I froze over.

His set of three piercings on his eyebrows glistened under the lamplight. Tobias strolled toward us, hands tucked in his pockets. He wore a plain white shirt and sports pants. But the darkly bitter smile he gave me spelled out trouble.

“Out here babysitting? Shouldn’t you know better?” Tobias sat between us two on the bench. “Been waiting for you to change your mind.”

Morganne gave him a hard look through narrowed eyes. “What the F? You know this jerk?”

I clutched tight the knife’s handle in my pouch. His hand rubbed along my thigh, sending shudders down my spine.

“She’s moving in with me, actually.” Tobias gave me a sideways smile and clasped my thigh hard, his nails digging. “Especially since you tore my crew apart. You’ve been nothing but a pain.”

I bit my lip.

My brother and his friends kept on cracking jokes, one of which made fun of Morganne’s oversized mask and how parts of her body seemed disproportionate to the rest. They were completely oblivious, and I preferred to keep it that way.

“You. Owe. Me. Big. Time,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Could you, I don’t know, go lie down on a train track or swallow an apple without chewing or something? We were talking here.” Morganne snapped at him.

Tobias turned to me. He spoke in a mock hurt voice. “Is that true? Do you really want me gone?”

My gaze was transfixed on the cracked sidewalk. My throat was parched, so I had to pass saliva several times.

“Just say it. Say the words.” He breathed down on me and I recoiled. The smell of tobacco mixed with blood assailed my nostrils. “Come on, do it. You’ll see what you get.”

“Yo, somebody’s hitting on your sister.” I heard David say to my brother.

“No, he’s not,” Louis said, as his voice broke and went up an octave.

“Hey, you, get the hell away from my sister.” Marcus jumped off the swing and took his stand before us, his plump fists crunching.

My heart jolted. The likelihood of them getting hurt wasn’t the only thing that worried me. They could also find out.

A mocking smile crept into Tobias’ lips. “Or what? You’ll roll over me?” He leaned into my ear. “I sure as hell could use a snack or two.”

That was my chance. The collar of his shirt was level with my eyes, his heart only a few inches below. Drive the knife into it and end it. The boys would be witnesses though. That second of hesitation cost me my one stab.

Marcus took a step forward. “Come on, leave her alone!”

“Marcus, this doesn’t concern you. Go home.” I snapped.

Tobias’ voice dropped to a venomous murmur, like an alligator about to snap. “You’d better start running, Porky Pig. I’ll give you a fair head start.”

“You asked for it, man. I’m calling the cops.” Morganne rose from the bench.

“You go do that, Ms. Creeps. Better get cracking before they get something to work with.”

Morganne froze on the spot, mouth hanging wide open. The whites of her eyes getting bigger complemented the murderous look she gave Tobias. But he ignored her.

“So… here’s what we’re gonna do.” He seized my hand. “You’re gonna come with me, and no one else needs get hurt. Or… who am I kidding? Someone’s getting hurt tonight and my vote goes to the fat boy.”

My hair became the color of blood. I worked up the steel to look him in the eyes. “Be careful who you threaten.”

The wind picked up around us in a vicious gale. It seemed to originate from Morganne, like crackling energy, and her grimoire fluttered wildly, her eyes black orbs like tar, and a fierce snarl distorted her lips while uttering a phrase in a demonic language.

Tobias let go of me, shook from a sudden spasm, and his mouth drooped open. He flung around to the witch like a dumb brute and tried to reach out with a grasping arm but wasn’t anywhere close to touching her.

Putting all my weight and strength behind my arms, I sent him hurtling through the air, catapulted him in a wide arc across the street. His body struck the pavement, and the thud may have split his skull open. Only it didn’t.

“Holy shit!”

“What the fuck?”

My brother and his friends were gawking at the scene like a trio of idiots.

“What are you doing? Scram!” I yelled. That spurred them into motion. I turned to Morganne. “Make sure they get home. I’m right after you.”

Tobias was struggling to rise from the tarmac. He mustered a prostrating position while spasms shook his entire body and coughed his guts out. His head bobbed once, and bile came spilling out of his throat, pooling on the curb.

Note to self: Don’t get on Morganne’s bad side.

My sire looked defenseless, doubled over on the ground. Beads of saliva hung over his lip, and a bloody gash had opened on his forehead. The blade slid from my pouch as I approached him. But curiosity won me over self-preservation when he spoke.

His fingers scratched on the gravel. “Everybody I knew got thrown in the lake. They tried to do it to me, too, and it was all your fault. Everything I worked towards in near one hundred years… My reputation and my circles. Even my friends.” He hit the ground with his fist. His neck craned up to look at me. Tears of anger rolled down his cheeks. “You were to be one more with the crew. We were supposed to work together. But you betrayed us. And what do you get in return? A pass inside the organization? A goddamn endorsement?”

“Who did this to you?”

He spat. “Your friend, who else? The Warlock. Tried to offer me as sacrifice.”

“What’s in the lake?”

Tobias found footing on one quivering leg. “Maybe… just maybe…” He propped himself up on his arms. “If I were to…” He staggered to his feet. “Offer you up to the lake…” He cracked a bone in his neck. “I could be your replacement.”

I pointed with the knife, my hands trembling. “Don’t get up, please. Stay down.” I took a step back. “I couldn’t give two shits about replacing you. I just want to find a cure.”

“Go ahead and find it. I’ll defile you again and as many times as it takes.”

The murderous tone in his voice, the venom in his eyes, the savagery in his snarl made me turn tail and flee through the park.

I took off and for the first time I knew the meaning of speed—sheer, powerful velocity with nothing but the power of my feet and the desperation in my heart. If not for the cold wind impeding me, making my eyes water, and my hair whipping against my face, I might’ve overtaken any bird in flight.

I zoomed down the park, and before I knew it, I’d crossed the street, pretty much jumped across its span, and flew down the next block, weaving in and out of pine trees with its dangerously low branches, some of which buffeted my face with the end of their needles.

But even though I was fast, Tobias was faster, if only a little. He cleared the distance bit by bit, face contorted with exertion and blood seeping into his shirt from the gash on his skull.

My great mistake was looking behind me mid-flight. Perhaps if I hadn’t looked, I’d still be steady on my feet.

I went under, and the world became a jumble and I couldn’t tell which way was up or down. I spun to a halt, the knife sliding out of my hands, and my eyes came up to ogle at the wobbly, starry sky. The countless blows tore at my hoodie and left it soiled. My lungs rasped for breath, winded. Sweat beads prickled my scalp.

Tobias threw himself over me. I put my feet up over my stomach as he dropped his weight on me, caught him on his chest with my soles, and using the momentum from his flight, propelled him into the trunk of the tree, smashing his back and sliding sideways on the roots.

I rose staggering, my head swimming still from the fall. I saw two knives dancing on the grass. I lurched for the quick grab and hit the ground when I missed. As my vision aligned, I snagged the knife and scrambled to my feet again.

Tobias was rising, too, spitting.

I pointed the knife at him with a trembling arm. “Stay down.” I swallowed. “You know, ever since I became like this… I’m not sure whether my life got better… I’ve been tossing the idea around in my head. Friends, good friends, I’ve made that otherwise I might have never met. I’ve found courage I didn’t know I had… I’d thank you if you weren’t such an asshat.”

His cruel laugh made me recoil. “That’s the demon inside you pulling the strings. Without it, you’re still the same old spineless craven. It’s the demon that makes you not completely worthless.” He tilted his head with an amused sneer that exposed his fangs. “Wouldn’t a cure make you the same wimp you were before?” He stepped forward. “You’ve ruined everything I strived for. You. Will. Pay.”

“You should’ve left me and my friend alone. Now learn to pick yourself back up.” I turned my back to him to walk home. “I never want to see you.”

“No…” I heard behind me. My heart raced again. “No…” He choked it out between gritted teeth. I put in more speed in my steps and glanced back. He tottered forward, but regained balance on his feet. He was going for the kill. “NO.”

I bolted, and he after me. My leg muscles carried me even when they seemed they’d tear from the feat, from pure speed.

My house stood right in front. The front porch was open, and Marcus and Mom were on lookout. I dashed across the street. A car reached the bend as I crossed and went wild on the horn. Headlights flashed in my eyes, the screaming noise rebounded in my ears, and I stumbled onto our yard.

“Get in, get in!” I yelled at my family as I climbed the porch steps and threw myself inside after them on the wood tiles.

Tobias had stopped cold right at our door’s threshold, panting. The sweat on his face mingled with blood. His white shirt had a red stain near his collarbone.

“What’s going on?” Mom yelled, freaking out, and ran into the kitchen. “I’m calling 911.”

Marcus stood in stunned silence, gripping the banister and ready to bolt upstairs.

I rose shaking to my feet. “You can’t come in.”

Tobias gave me a fiendish smile. “You sure that’s how it works?”

He took a step inside, and my stomach turned. The knife gleamed in his hands. When did I lose it? My teeth chattered from the fear surging in my body.

My sire held the blade up at my family.

The door at the end of the hall groaned open. Dad strode down its length, pushed me aside, and stretched his arm.

Tobias’ eyes widened in surprise and then came the resounding gunshot.

Mom shrieked, Marcus bolted off, and I blinked. Powder smoke rose. A high-pitched whistling noise haunted my ears.

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