A Sanguinary Rose (Complete)
Storm of Petals and Thorns

My aunt and uncle hauled their bags onto their car while the kids waved at us from inside it. Covered up from head to toe, he took shotgun seat and waved us all goodbye. I watched them go from the front porch, squinting through the blinding dawn. The last thing he said to me was: “Be thankful for what you have. You must love yourself as you are.”

That was the main thought dwelling in my mind throughout the rest of trip back to Farpoint. It came back to me even as I sat down with Mr. Royce to bring me up to speed on his findings regarding the Starlit Almanac.

“What you’ve got for me?” We took seats on the lavish, cushioned chairs in one of the few extensive living rooms in the castle. A great spider chandelier hung on top of us, reflecting off the polish of the mahogany table. A grandfather clock by the great ebony wardrobe struck to ring in the evening in this region of Hell. Next door sat Anja and Oliver huddled together in whispers over textbooks and notebooks so he could help her study for the quickly approaching midterms.

“Here.” Mr. Royce unclasped his briefcase and set it down on the table. “What you need to enter that vault is a scrying device…” At my raised eyebrows, he added. “Bear with me.” He took out a printed sheet of paper and pointed to a gizmo that could better be described as a pair of lenses resembling the tapered, long-tubed eyestalks of a snail.

“Um, what’s that?”

“What you need to avoid the overload of knowledge that would addle your mind and cripple your sanity. You put it over your eyes, secure it around your head, and you’re ready to go,” he said, highlighting with hand gestures the simple act of putting on the headgear. “The drawback is that what you’re looking for must be very specific, down to your choice of words and precise syntax. The lenses are incredibly narrow, like gazing through a microscope, and they cannot be adjusted to either zoom in or zoom out. Its extent is intended to be limited like that. As I understand it, looking for answers in that vault will be as similar as asking a wish from a deceitful genie.”

“So, once I get one of these bad boys in my hands, I’m ready to go?”

“If they somehow allow you to go in, then sure, break a leg.”

I shook my head. “There’s no way I’m slipping in unnoticed.”

Mr. Royce laid back on the velvet cushion of the chair. “Would you be ready for it, though? It’ll be dangerous, and illegal more than anything.”

“I think I am.” The last words Uncle Frank said to me echoed in my head. “I found out last week that my uncle is also a vampire. Has been for years and no one’s found out. Only I know now. I’d never really been too close to him, but we found enough ground to relate, at least.”

“Oh, my.” He leaned forward. “That is surprising, indeed. How’s he dealing with life and his family?”

“He fears for his future. Dreads the day he may have to abandon his family. He’s still in the Vestal stage. So he says.”

That made him blink. “Vestal? And you say he’s been one for years? That’s some impressive form of self-control.”

“Anyway, that’s not what the kicker is. In a few years’ time, my younger brother, Marcus, will be noticeably older than me. Suffice to say, it’ll raise my dad’s suspicion, enough to lose my entire family. That is, if he doesn’t realize it before.”

“And you didn’t already realize that would eventually happen?”

“I’m sorry, I was busy dealing with three lunatics and worrying if I might see the beginning of the new year.” I swallowed. “My uncle opened my eyes to that. It makes me scared for the future. I don’t want to see everyone around me grow old and disappear from my life. I don’t want to be separated from my children while they outgrow me and pass on while I’m eternally reliving my teens.”

Mr. Royce put a hand to his chin, half covering his mouth. “I wouldn’t want to exacerbate things. I thought you already knew this, too.”

His expression worried me. “What now?”

“There’s no light way of putting this, so I’ll just say it. Female vampires cannot conceive. I thought you might have noticed the signs by now.”

It was true. I wasn’t bleeding anymore. It’s been, what? Three months? Four? My throat tied up in a knot. Having children wasn’t something I ever contemplated deeply. Perhaps in ten years’ time I would’ve decided it was a good time. But it still felt like a punch to the gut.

“Yet another reason.” I pointed at the sheet of paper with the scrying device.

Mr. Royce smiled, nodding. “I’ll try my best to help you where I can.”

“Thank you.”

It was then when we noticed Anja had raised her voice at Oliver and everything she said could be heard clearly from across the other room.

“You can’t be serious. Unbelievable. And… and… stupid.” Anja was shouting. “You must be joking. You’ve got to be.”

Mr. Royce closed his briefcase. “I’d rather not be a part of it.” He stood up and headed to the top of the stairs. “I’ll be home, if you need me, over a mountain of papers…”

I was already by the door next to the bookshelves and grabbing the handle. I nodded to him. “Sure, sounds good.”

“Calm down, calm down, all right? It’s not a big deal.” Oliver said, gesticulating with his hands to have Anja lower her voice.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Anja asked. I’d never seen her so outraged. She looked about to flip over the table.

“Why do you think? Because it made me uncomfortable. I didn’t want to think about it. Of course, talking about it involves thinking about it.”

“But they should be giving you a choice. That’s so unfair… and stupid.” Anja shoved the chair back as she hopped to her feet. “I can’t. Where’s your mom? I need to talk to her.”

Oliver grabbed her hand. “Oh no, no, no, no, no. You can’t do that. Absolutely not. If you do that and it gets out to my dad, I’m dead.”

Anja yanked her arm back. “Why are you like that? You’ve always been like that. Always letting others step on you, making choices for you, taking a dump on your integrity, and not a peep from ya.”

Oliver stared at the carpeted floor, agitated. “And you think I want it? That I’m in on it?”

Anja pursed her lips. “No, I guess not… But maybe you do, ’cause she’s pretty and stuff.”

“Well, of course she is. Heir to one of the most powerful families in Inferno. It comes with the package. But I’ve never seen her in my life.”

They had been so immersed in their argument they didn’t notice me standing by the door. “You’re gonna wake the other half of the hemisphere. Chill out.”

Anja’s lips were tightly pressed. I sensed she wanted to cry but held back from it. “Tell her. Or should I?”

Oliver rubbed his eyes in frustration. “You see… remember back when I said we were still pretty medieval?” He winced. “Well… I’m betrothed to someone.”

I raised one eyebrow. Pretty sure we got that before. “And you say you’ve never seen her in person before?”

It seemed all the blood in his body had rushed to his face. “No… only in photographs. All I know is she’s from House Asmodeus, and that my parents arranged this marriage years ago. They’re waiting until I turn eighteen.”

“And you’re just gonna let them get away with it?” Anja snapped at him.

“My dad always gets away with it. Don’t you know him already? He’d turn the literal devil on me if this doesn’t go his way.”

“So what your mom said is true. You’re keeping us as trophies or what’s your deal?”

The air felt as though it had been sucked out of the room. Oliver stood motionless, rooted to the spot. Tears already streaked Anja’s face.

Morganne may have teased him that way, but I couldn’t see it coming from Anja. I was paralyzed, fearing that any word I said, any action I took would rupture these bonds between us. Impossible to pick a side. They both had their fair points. Where was my vampire when I needed it?

Oliver stared out the half-shuttered window. His voice cracked. “I can’t pretend you didn’t just say that. It’s…unbelievable.” He stormed out of the room in stiff steps and the door clicked shut behind him.

I heard soft padding on the carpet. When I looked back to Anja she was gone from her spot. Instead, a heap of clothes was left behind: a pair of slip-on sneakers, skinny-cut denim jeans, her lemon-colored blouse, and her woven-string wristbands. Then I saw the tawny lynx with black-spotted fur curling up on the nearest slanted chaise lounge chair. Ears retracted, she stared at the floor, eyes half-closed, brooding in silence.

I sat by her side, sinking down into the soft velvet. After a few moments, the lynx stood, stretched, and laid her head on my lap. It was the biggest cat I’d ever touched by far, so I was hesitant at first, but as soon as I petted her behind the ears, a powerful purring emerged from her throat. She’d always loved that. It was curious, I wouldn’t have thought that her first reaction to stress or sadness would be to transform. In fact, it was the first time I’d ever seen her like this outside of danger or training.

Her white, furry chest was heaving slightly. From time to time, she’d exhale deeply. Her black-tipped ears flicked every five seconds. And her short, bobbed tail twitched a little. Maybe this was the way cats cried.

Minutes rolled by before I sensed her calming down. It was enough to break the silence.

“What did you say to him? Before the argument began… You told him about your feelings for him?”

The lynx gave me a dejected look as she nodded. Even though it wasn’t my fault, I felt somewhat responsible.

“I guess we’re both out of his league. Quite literally, huh?”

Her pupils slitted as she looked at me. Her gaze roamed to the pile of clothes strewn on the carpet. Then back to me again.

“Right.”

Anja sat up on her hind legs as I went to retrieve her clothes and give them to her. Her emerald eyes stared at me, and I turned my back to her. The transformation back to human form was a quick transition, almost as if slipping into another set of clothes. The sounds, though, were on another level. They lasted only for a second, but the snapping of bones as they reshaped, and the rustle of skin as it re-blanketed the body sure sounded like a world of hurt.

Painful as it might be, Anja’s expression showed no hint of physical pain when she told me I could turn around. Instead, guilt and remorse dominated every bit of her aspect. She drooped on the couch, her hands hidden under her thighs, pressed against the velvet. She wouldn’t look me in the eye, and I could see the tears coming back to her.

She choked out the first words. “I-I regretted everything I said as it left my mouth. He’s going to hate me now.”

“No, you know that’s not true.”

“I’m just a nuisance to him and his family. Always have been.”

“You cannot seriously believe that. First, we’re all a nuisance to Moira, which is never gonna change. We’re probably nothing more than insects to his dad. Second, did you see Oliver’s face the two times we were hostages? His usual sheepish face contorted with rage? That’s the face of someone who cares deeply. Both times he was also the first one to charge in, regardless of the consequences. He offered Tobias his own life in exchange of yours, and he meant it. Now tell me again, after all of that, how is he going to hate you?”

Anja covered her mouth. “I guess I should’ve kept my mouth shut.”

“Don’t beat yourself over it. We don’t know what day will be our last. Seize every moment of your life. Because the regret you feel at the end as your last drop of blood leaves your body isn’t worth it.”

***

When I looked over the edge, I felt as though I was about to tip over and become weightless. One light push of the wind, one misstep, and who knows if a vampire becomes mush on the pavement. Quick reflexes and common sense pulled me back to safety. I hugged the walls of the spire in an urge to fight off the vertigo punching at my stomach.

“Mankind has dreamed of flying ever since the first man saw a bird take flight,” Mandala said, trench coat flapping wildly to the rush of the night wind up on one of the greatest man-made heights of the country. “Leonardo Da Vinci came up with the concept to making that dream a reality. The Wright brothers pioneered this aspect that would become a reality. But airplanes are not good enough.” He took one boot closer to the edge of the Empire State. “These frail bodies of ours are capable of so much more, but the knowledge is veiled from us.” His eye glinted behind his dark glasses for a split second as he turned to me. “Would you seek it out if you knew where to look?”

I know where to look. “Do you mean flight like Superman? If so, yes. I’m down.”

Mandala frowned. “Go for it.” He gazed down the dizzying heights of the skyscraper, at the million headlights moving along the streets and the gleaming billboards. “A man can dream.”

I gazed up at the sky, the full moon hovering over dark clouds. “Why does the moon over Farpoint look so much bigger than everywhere else?”

Mandala stiffened and stood upright. “The answer to that is within your reach. If you know where to look.”

That’s twice now.

“But you know the reason? Surely.”

“It’s the one thing I wish I didn’t. Do you know why we only see one side of it?”

I nodded. Because of its rotational and orbital periods being similar…

“Whatever you may think the answer is, it’s the wrong answer.” Mandala interrupted my musings.

“Okay, so are you going to tell me?”

He looked over the edge still, one boot forward, his brow furrowed like a hawk preying on mice.

“Umm. So, why did you bring me up here, anyway?”

“Who do you think can listen in on us here? Who do you think will watch us up here?”

“Probably a satellite.”

Mandala scoffed. “That demon in you is sometimes too smart for its own good. Take it out, and what’s left? The same scared little girl.” He raised his chin, watching the bustling city below. “They call us nonhumans, deviants. You should have noticed by now. Us, deviants. Even though most of us are Homo Sapiens. Superior ones at that. We do as they do, but more and then some. Yet we are the ones who must hide, the ones not allowed to be openly who they are, the ones allowed to be slaughtered or burned at the stake for ‘witchcraft.’ They should be accepting our existence as we have accepted theirs since the dawn of time. As long as we remain hidden like cockroaches, that will never happen.”

“But the Witch Hunts stopped centuries ago. They have either accepted our existence, or they’ve forgotten, right?”

“It’s the veil keeping the hysteria away.” Mandala peered over the skyline. From this height all else I could hear was the roar of the chilly wind against my eardrums. “A manufactured, illusive cloak ORPHEUS’s progenitors put in place at the beginning of the 18th century to conceal true reality. If lifted, suspicion would abound. Chaos could ensue. But only through chaos, can order make a comeback.” He turned to me with an askew smile. “I hear you want to go back to being ‘human.’ Truly… sad, that you’d push this boon granted on you. Pathetic.”

Gusts of wind tested my endurance and strength. I pressed my back against the spire. “Who told you that?”

“Your friend.”

“I have many.”

“The one you sired.”

Melanie, surprise surprise. “I have my reasons.”

“I don’t care about your reasons. You have ascended, yet you wish to become inferior again. But who am I to say, don’t? I’m not one to stop self-harm on the person wishing to inflict it.”

“I know where to look.”

Mandala chuckled. “You could never find a way into the Starlit Almanac. You saw how guarded it is. Can you use magic to fry the security systems? Can you cause a diversion so that no one will see through your subterfuge? What will you do about the gargoyles sniffing out any trickery you bring along? I don’t think so.”

“What do you care about me?”

“While I seek to close the rift between our two existences, you wish to give your gift back and become one of them again. We’re both on the same side and you don’t realize it. ORPHEUS is flawed. Their stranglehold on our lives is an absurdity.” He paused for a second, then looked at me through his black-tinted glasses. “Everything happens for a reason. You becoming what you are wasn’t the result of a hungry vampire on a lonely night.”

“Wait, what are you saying?” I took a step forward. A shoving gust made me retread my steps. “I was… handpicked? By whom? Why?”

“Because you’re their chosen one.”

“What for?”

“The answer to that lies in plain sight,” he said, his lips curling up, “if you knew where to look.”

***

“I’m ready.”

Mr. Royce looked up from the paperwork on his desk, gray eyes wide with confusion. “What? Right now?”

“Well, not really… I suppose later in the afternoon. If not, tomorrow then. Or the day after.”

“But are you ready for the consequences? Ready to put your way of life as you know it on the line? If you’re caught, we cannot vouch for you. You understand that, right?”

I was chosen. “Yes, I’m ready. I must.”

That afternoon we gathered in one of the castle’s living rooms. As we sat around the large oval table, Oliver slipped inside the room like a mouse and bolted the door shut, his palms likely all sweaty over the doorknob.

“My brother’s here today. Dad as well. He can’t know jack of my involvement, or he’ll roast me alive.”

“We’ll make it quick,” Mr. Royce said at the head of the table. “So, how do we proceed?” He smiled at me as he passed on the role of leadership.

My eyes swept around the room. Oliver, Anja, and Morganne turned their heads too. Even though we had grown together so close, such a small spotlight still made me falter and flush. Good thing the dim lighting made it hard to tell.

“So… there are three layers of security we have to account for. There’s the staff, the electronic systems and surveillance, and the gargoyles. For the first, I thought we could use a diversion to drive away the staff from floor -3. What kind of diversion, though, I’m not sure. Any—”

“A vampire. A crazed, stoned AF, Fiendish-stage vampire,” Morganne piped up. “Unleash that beast and go nuts. He should buy you enough time and then some.”

“How do we even find one of those, let alone make it submit to us?” Oliver asked, hands spread open in confusion.

“Shouldn’t we worry about the casualties first? There are people I know working there, even if just by name.”

“Sound the fire alarm,” Morganne said, her lip twitching. “When word spreads out of the vampire roaming the building, anyone with half a brain cell will shut themselves in their room or office with the panic buttons under their desks.”

“Oh, right. That was simple. Even more simple than finding and subduing a Fiend. How did I not think of that?” Oliver said, slapping his temple.

At that moment, flashbacks crashed into the forefront of my mind. “We’ve captured a few. Well, I’ve watched Mandala do it. I know places where they might wander. Back when the government found me out, they sent me a briefcase with SanguineX. It’s stashed in my bedroom closet. We could use that.”

“Right, right,” Oliver went on. “Then we walk inside the building through the front door dragging a scorching vampire because it’s probably daylight, let go of his bounds, and say ‘have fun, y’all!’”

His acid remarks were starting to get on my nerves. “We could bring the bound vampire through a wormhole. Except I don’t know how to summon one, and Mandala would suspect something is awry. Since your ideas are so bright, please, enlighten us.”

Oliver shrank down in his seat. “Oh, sorry. It’s hard trying to be useful when Father’s around.”

“But it is possible to use a wormhole,” Anja said, leaning forward on the table. “As far as I know, government buildings have a floor dedicated to the dimensional Gates. Paradise and Inferno. We could beam him up directly from here.”

Morganne smiled wide. “Woah, Anja dropping bombs.”

“That can work, but we’d have to execute the painstaking process of covering our tracks. After all, this is the 21st century, so they can figure out where the subject was sent from.” Mr. Royce rubbed his temples. “Okay, but what about the security systems?”

I winced with uncertainty. “Could magic, perhaps, be used to fry them?”

The teacher promptly put on his sermon-giving face. “Yes, you can, but that is also very, very illegal and can carry grave—”

“Oh, that’s child’s play.” Morganne interrupted him. “I once killed the lights at my previous high school to skip class, and I got expelled.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Mr. Royce said. “If there’s no other way, pray you don’t get caught doing it. Pray nothing ties back to us…”

“But you can’t go inside the building carrying any kind of magic devices, can you?” Anja asked, looking to the teacher for reassurance.

Mr. Royce nodded. “That’s true. How do you intend to go past the gargoyles? Are there any more inside?”

I sat upright. “The ones outside shouldn’t be a problem since Mandala usually wormholes us inside the building. There aren’t any other gargoyles I know of other than the ones guarding the vault itself.”

“Good then.”

I bit my lip. “So… the frying part? How do we do that?”

Morganne and Mr. Royce opened their mouths to speak at the same time. “With a ‘stub.’”

The time warlock turned to the fledgling witch. “That’s one way to do it. But since you seem to have vast knowledge over the topic, why don’t you fill us in?”

“So, like, you can grab something you don’t need any more, like the short end of a pencil, a cig, or a used tampon—”

“Morganne, keep it PG13, please.”

“Aren’t we all over 13?”

“You may understand the spells and the process, but it’s clear you need schooling on logic,” Mr. Royce said, rolling his eyes. “No, Scarlett, if you’re going to do that, make sure there are no fingerprints on said object-—”

Morganne raised her voice. “Oh, come on, man. Who’s gonna suspect a used tampon?”

Anja and Oliver burst out in raucous laughter. They looked at each other briefly before their emotions set down a barrier between them.

The teacher was getting heated. “They will, dummy, if they find a tampon near the central security systems to one of the most important buildings of a government branch.”

But that only made the rest of us laugh uncontrollably. Oliver was in stitches over the table, and Anja was crying tears in laughter. Mr. Royce gave in and let his chuckling overtake his emotions.

“What the wise man said,” Morganne carried on. “Listen to him. He seems to know a thing or two.”

“Let’s smooth things out a little before we wrap up.” Mr. Royce glanced at me. “First, we’re going to enchant any item that has absolutely no hint of a fingerprint and which could naturally blend in the environment. The effect will be like that of an electro-magnetic pulse, which will disable all electronics in the vicinity. Therefore, you don’t have to be in the same room as the surveillance systems. We can make it go off with a remote detonation or make it a time bomb. I’d suggest the time bomb, personally.” He chuckled. “As long as you leave it relatively near, it should work. Do you happen to know where they’re located?”

“I might, yes.” From my backpack I pulled out a sheet of paper. Printed on it were the building’s blueprints. “I swiped the blueprints from Mandala’s desk a couple of days ago and got a copy for myself.”

“How irresponsible of him.” Mr. Royce seemed to zone out for a few seconds. “Good then. This is what’s going to happen. Once you’re inside the building, with your earpiece, let us know when you’re about to pull the fire alarm. Give us a moment and we’ll warp the vampire from Inferno to their Gates. By then the spell should go off, rendering all security cameras and metal detectors obsolete, while making it harder for them to contain the vampire, buying you some more time. As soon as you’re done, you get out, understand?”

Morganne cleared her throat as if to add something else. “Wait, your boss just happened to leave those blueprints within your reach while completely unsupervised?”

“I thought that as well,” Mr. Royce said, giving her a fatherly look of pride before regarding the rest of us. “Perhaps we should call it off. At least for the time being.”

My heart gave a leap. “No, no way. We’re so close. If we pull it off…”

“The risk has grown tenfold, Scarlett. If he knows, we don’t know what might happen to everyone involved.” The teacher drowned out my voice. “Please, would you take a step back and look at the big picture? Have you taken any considerations for the rest of us? We’re a high school teacher and three other students with their lives ahead of them. If caught, any of us will be in life-threatening danger. Have you stopped to think about that?”

“Of course I have! I’m not asking anybody to do the heavy lifting or even be involved at all. We’re not going forward until we’re absolutely sure nothing ties back to anybody. Nobody has to be here if they don’t want to.”

“If he knows you took the blueprints this will tie back to you, and therefore it could to us, too.”

“He doesn’t have to know. I put them back where I found them right after taking my copy.”

Mr. Royce brooded, rubbing his brow.

Anja was the first to break the uncomfortable silence. “I want to be here.”

“We’re using my magic trick, so you’re crazy if you think I’m out,” Morganne said.

“I… don’t want to say I’m out, but I’m probably screwed either way with my parents.” Oliver said at last.

“Utmost caution has to be our mantra, every step of the way.” Mr. Royce pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine. Let’s catch that vampire.”

***

The next day we crossed over into Farpoint’s much maligned, desolate district in Mr. Royce’s car. Oliver and I got out to shove the concrete roadblocks aside and got back inside. We drove down the cracked St. Halliday Avenue, weaving in and out of massive potholes. A murder of crows screeched as they took flight at the sound of our motor breaking the never-ending silence over Blightpoint.

A closed-off part of town near the intersection of Lafayette and Federal streets, all the way down Burrow and Warren streets, proved to be a reliable spot for someone looking for trouble. Sniffing out problem vampires was the easy part. All other roads and avenues had long been barricaded, and decay ran rampant on the rutted roads, the rusted fences and railways, and the stooped, yawning buildings at the sides. It was as though some unseen malignant force shadowed this part of Farpoint and left it forsaken to ruin.

Mandala and I have been here twice. It always chilled my blood. However, I felt safer with Mandala—the irony wasn’t lost on me.

Against Mr. Royce’s protests, Anja volunteered to be the bait, and I the hook. Vampires rarely attacked other vampires to feed. But I might be able to fight if things went south.

The bench we sat on in the middle of the square was in plain sight where the teacher, Oliver, and Morganne could watch us from a vantage point. The fountain at the center had long dried up and chunks of its concrete had been blown off. Despite the broad daylight, though bleak and dreary, I couldn’t help shuddering at whatever might be lurking around the corner or watching from one of the many leaning windows in the dark faces of the buildings.

I glanced over my shoulders, as did she. “Morganne, or even Mr. Royce could’ve been the bait. You’ve had too much vampire trouble for one lifetime. Why volunteer for more?”

Anja giggled. “To keep the tradition going, I guess. It gives me kind of a rush. Don’t you?”

“No, I don’t think so.” I said, pulling my hoodie harder to shade my eyes and peering around our desolation. Even birds didn’t sing here, and plant life seemed nonexistent.

“I get to be the damsel in distress.” Anja said, prolonging the ‘s’ at the end, and leaned onto my shoulder. “And you the knight in shining armor.”

“This is taking too long.” I played with the syringe of SanguineX in my hoodie’s pocket.

“Draw blood out.”

“We want to be noticed by one. Not attract the entire mob.”

“What do you supposed happened here?”

“Ehh.” Mandala had said something about an outbreak of vampires that wiped out the town decades ago before a cadre of warlocks contained the epidemic within the district. “Vampires having too much fun, I suppose.”

“Shh, you hear that?” Her cat ears flicked in search of the source. Her hearing was greater than mine, even though mine was already enhanced.

We saw him turn the bend from an alley on our street, shuffling at a brisk pace, both hands tucked in his jacket pockets. The vampire wore a tattered gray hoodie over faded brown hair, but what caught most of my attention were his amber-colored, slit eyes that gave away every intention he had. His pace quickened as he made a beeline for us.

“Guys, do you see him?” I said, pressing my earpiece.

“Affirmative. Have the syringe ready at hand, over.” Mr. Royce’s voice came in a mixture of static feedback.

Anja clutched my gloved hand. Her eyes were wide as she watched our target step closer. Then she shrieked as the vampire closed the last sixty feet in blinding speed. Faster than me, faster than even Tobias, I never imagined a man could move so quick.

I bolted to my feet and set myself as a barrier between her and the attacker. He came straight at me.

Heat flared. A pillar of flame emerged at our side, its hotness making the air shimmer. The vampire dug his heels to slow down, putting up his arms to his face, cowering before the fire Oliver sprayed from his hands in the likes of a warning shot.

I threw myself over the distracted vampire and we both went down on the curb, and before I could aim the syringe at his neck, his hands struck my chest and then I was spinning head over toes in the air, knocking the wind out as I landed on the hard ground.

Mr. Royce uttered a phrase in a language grating to the ears, and the Fiend froze on his feet mid-movement. Anja shook off the fright enough to work the needle she carried and jam it into the vampire’s sinewy neck, dark crimson fluid flowing into his bloodstream. The dose was more than the label recommended, so he lost consciousness and seemed to fall asleep on his feet.

Oliver offered me a hand with his still smoking hand, and I rose, wheezing from the blow and holding his shoulder as support while my vision still swam. “If he had rammed you, I’m not sure if you’d be conscious, or worse,” he said, a crease of concern of his forehead.

“He may be right,” Mr. Royce said, tucking his gold watch in his breast pocket, releasing the vampire from its paralysis, and allowing him to keel over spreadeagled. He looked down on him, his brow creasing in disgust. “We’re certainly never doing this again.”

Anja was rocking on her heels. “So, what now, you guys?”

“We’ll keep him sedated until tomorrow. The effects last about eight hours, so we’ll give him another shot. Remember, Scarlett, you must sound the alarm before you disable the security systems. We’ll take care of this until then. Come on, Oliver, help me get him on the trunk.”

As the teacher bent down to pick the vampire up by the shoulders, Morganne said a weird phrase and the limp figure rose bodily about three feet above the ground.

“Better yet…”

She gave him a smile. “See? Being lazy pays off.”

“Sure, can you hold him?”

She grimaced. “Yes, just open the trunk. Quick.” The body hovered by her side towards the car.

Oliver hurried to the old 74 Mustang by the worn-down road and threw open the baggage coffer just as the body plopped down inside, bumping the poor bastard’s head on his way down.

Mr. Royce flinched when the car creaked on its wheels. He turned to me. “I’ll charm the ‘stub’ tomorrow and give it to you some time during the day. We’ll be waiting for your signal in Inferno. Afterwards, it’s all on you.”

It’s really happening. This is the point of no return.

***

Sleep hardly came that night. When it did, it was a restless churning of old memories and fears materializing within dreams—A Fiend, its golden eyes shimmering in the pitch blackness, breaking his restraints, and slaughtering all the people watching over it. Watching Mr. Royce bleed to death from his neck shocked me into waking. I lay abed, eyes wide glued to the ceiling, until my phone’s alarm rang its bells.

Friday morning was a dreary shower of mists and thick curtains of fog obscuring the streets. Cold bit right through the fabric of my hoodie and the layers of warmth underneath. Marcus and I walked to school, shivering, our breath frosting in the air, mindful of the freezing puddles along the sidewalk. A thought came then: If things went south, today might be the last day we walked to school together. Perhaps even the last time I saw my brother.

“Bye,” he said, and shuffled down the hallway along with the crowd.

“Yeah, see ya.”

At noon, Mr. Royce handed me a mug. It was heavier than it looked and felt as if it were whirring with energy when I brought it closer to my face. My hair rose slightly in the air and its current tickled my nose.

He wore gloves. And so did I.

“Don’t get any fingerprints on it. It might shatter when the spell goes off. That will be at 6pm. Don’t be close when that happens.”

The steps for the heist we had rehearsed before became a blur in my mind as doubt seeped into my consciousness. My hands shook, fingers wrapped around the mug.

“Are we clear?”

“Alarm first. Then…”

“Pull the alarm at 5:59pm. You will give us the signal right after you’ve done that.” He pointed at the earpiece lodged in his ear. I heard a static thump in mine. “We release the monster at the Gates, floor -2. The spell should go off a minute after that. Understood?”

My heart was heavy, like an anvil in my chest. “Right, of course.”

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as the waiting game began, and my heart seemed to thump all the harder. I bade my time by the Great Oak of Farpoint, hidden under its large, stretching shadow. Drops of drizzle slid from its branches and tapped my hoodie. The wind picked up and plucked the oak’s leaves into its air currents. A crow perched above me, cawing, its cry mocking and piercing to my sensitive ears. At 5pm, Mandala showed himself at last. Despite his size, I never saw him coming. One moment he was there; the next he was gone.

I took his side. A flash of light, a rush of wind, and our feet thudded on the carpet in his office on the topmost floor. He spent little time there, which explained its lack of identity. It was plainer than any other office in the building.

He looked over his shoulder. “You may resume your tasks. I’m off to DC.”

With a sweeping motion came the all too familiar noise the wormhole made when tearing open. Mandala was then gone.

Fifty minutes I had to kill. I took the mug out of my backpack, but simply “losing” it would be suspicious. Someone was bound to notice. To conceal the obvious, I grabbed a stack of blank papers and empty folders from his drawers and went to “deliver” them.

The central security systems stood on the west wing of Floor 2. I climbed down the stairs and stalked along the hallways, all too conscious of my coworkers’ passing glances and the soul-sucking stare of the ever-watchful cameras in every corner. Sweat prickled my scalp. I picked up the pace, then slowed down, the upped it again. They must be suspecting me already. I could feel the stare of the cameras drilling into my skull. What if they somehow traced this innocent-looking mug back to me and my friends? Act normal.

There was no telltale sign I was near their controllers, but the blueprints pointed the way.

Aaron’s office stood next to the security room. He occasionally said ‘Hi’ whenever we crossed paths, but I’d never been to his booth. All I knew about the guy was that he spent an inordinate amount of time working on numbers.

My tongue caught in my throat. “H-hey… may I come in?”

“Sure,” he said, looking away from his desktop computer. “Those for me?”

“Yeah, here you go…” As I hoisted down the stack of paper on his desk, I let slip the mug from my pinkie on the carpeted floor. It thudded almost soundlessly on its side.

“That’s quite a lot. Thanks, though. I’ll look them over in a moment.”

The instant I held doorknob in my gloved hands, he called back and my blood chilled.

“Hey, Scarlett. Is that coffee mug yours?” Aaron was leaning back on his swiveling chair, enough to see under his desk.

My mouth was dry. “No. I didn’t even see it.”

“Huh. Okay. Whatever.”

I closed the door to his office and scurried back along the hallway. Someone must have told on me. They will catch me.

Thirty minutes.

Twenty minutes.

Mr. Royce’s voice startled me when it surged from my earpiece. “We’re all set up. We’ll be waiting for you. Over and out.”

My feet tapped the floor as I sat in Mandala’s office. I didn’t know for how long I’d been biting my nails. Each time I looked at the clock hanging on the wall I could’ve sworn several minutes had gone by—except it had been only seconds.

That had to be the longest hour, the longest day of my life. Every second, every minute rolled over in the slowest, most painfully sluggish way that I thought I’d go mad. My heart seemed heavier with each tick of the clock.

Ten minutes.

It would burst any moment now from all the thumping, surely.

Two minutes.

There was a fire alarm inside Mandala’s office by the door. When I got closer, I saw there were three small levers to pull for different occasions. Fire alarm, red. Biohazard alarm, golden striped with black. Occult alarm, dark purple. I watched the last seconds tick away on my smartphone with nerve-wracking tension. One minute. My tongue felt parched as I spoke. “Here it goes, over.” I gripped the golden-striped lever with my gloved hand, all clammy underneath, and pulled. “It’s done. Do it.”

The siren blared, sending a throb of pain through my ears. Its shrieks echoed throughout the building and out the neighboring streets of downtown Farpoint. Outside in the hallways, red lights flashed in every corner and every office booth.

People panicked. Some screamed. Those out in the corridors hurried to the nearest room or office and shut the doors behind them. Glass windows were suddenly blanketed by iron shutters, sliding down in rasping noises to cover their frames. Soon I was alone amid the flash of red, padding down the corridor.

A woman’s voice sounded off from the speakers. “Loose vampire in floor minus two. Avoid entirely. Subject is extremely dan—” Then she was cut short. The lights flicked off and the rooms went from flashing red to near pitch-black in an instant. The siren died off and . Even the panicking quieted down as employees hunkered down in their office booths. I could make out their whispers of confusion from the outside.

It was a complete power outage. Even I struggled to see in the dark. But I preferred it that way. Now I had to sneak downstairs.

There was shouting when I came down to the lobby. A sheet of faint dusk spilled over the entrance to the building and several armed men in body armor were silhouetted against its setting light. Flashlights shone out and one hit me across the face. I barred my eyes from the blinding brightness.

“You, get yourself inside a room now,” one policeman barked.

I was pretty much the image of the deer before headlights. My muscles refused to move. Am I caught?

“MOVE.”

There was a crashing noise across the hall. The beams of flashlight flicked to the source. The Fiendish vampire lifted his arms to cover his dazed eyes. “FREEZE. Hands on the ground. We’ll shoot.”

The police guards carried handguns. I wanted to shout at them, to let them know how ineffective they’d be. But I didn’t have to. I jammed my thumbs into my ears before they fired. The shots rang out, and the vampire stumbled back, his face contorted with anger. Red began pooling around the several holes in his ragged jacket, and yet he stepped forward, growling. A few of the guards holstered their smoking pistols and switched to taser guns.

When the Fiend spotted me, though, he made a beeline in a mad dash, vaulting over desks, sending chairs spinning across the hall, all while tasers clipped his shoulders and bullets riddled his back, and he kept coming, just to get at me. His eyes were a wild fury, golden slitted pits that wanted nothing but to snuff out the life in mine. He remembers me.

The vampire staggered once or twice in his haste as lead punched through his flesh and bones. My instinct kicked in, and I skirted around his lunging grasp, clumsy from all the punishment to his body, and dashed towards the staircase across the hall. He fell to his knees before stumbling back up.

The cops were already loading their guns for a second barrage. “Get outta here, kid.”

I slammed the door behind me. Afraid to look back, I reeled to the top of the stairs and nearly lost my footing in my mad rush down every two or three steps. I was so close now, yet it felt far away. The gunshots and shouting from the lobby became all the quieter as I jumped the last landing onto Floor -3.

I put my finger to my ear and said, wheezing: “I’m here.”

“I read you. Leave as soon as you finish. Over and out.”

A current of cold, moist air hit me in the face as I emerged into the yawning, cavernous corridor leading to the Starlit Almanac. Torches gave the limestone walls a glistening sheen. I looked behind me at the elevator. It was dead. Ahead the surveillance cameras made no movement. The entire room was chillingly quiet. The great double doors guarded by the gargoyles stood ahead. Irrevocably insane… irrevocably insane… irrevocably insane…

Something was wrong. Something had gone awry along the way. As I passed under the metal detectors, I found the buck-toothed guard’s body limp on the ground, and I looked away, hurrying along. What have I done? What have I done? The vampire was here?

The door leading into the Starlit Almanac’s control room was wide open. The two clerks sitting on their swiveling chairs didn’t look at me. They didn’t move. They didn’t breathe. Their eyes were rolled back in their sockets, bloodshot. A small cry escaped my lips. As my gag reflex kicked in, I noticed they had no marks or wounds that would blame a vampire. What’s happening? I did this.

Behind their seats was the storage room. A magnetic card slider kept out trespassers. “I’m so sorry.” Keeping my gaze fixed away from the dead, I snatched the bespectacled clerk’s name tag from his breast. My hands shook too much by then, fumbling the keycard and missing the slider once. The door beeped, signaled green, and I pulled it open. Inside were rows and columns of the odd apparatuses Mr. Royce had shown me. They called them ‘gazers.’ I took one, pulled the straps around my head, and let it press over my brow.

My stomach was churning as I stood next to my former coworkers’ bodies and slid the keycard on the magnetic slider over their desk. I’d seen him opening the vault before when Mandala pushed me to go inside. As the contraption authorized the request, there was a snap like rivets unbolting, and then the sound of working gears and cogs wheeling, pushing the double doors wide open between the stone griffins, unaware of the tragedy and destruction around them.

The second door at the end of the dark tunnel rose slowly like I’d seen the portcullis in Oliver’s castle do. The white radiance spilled inside and drowned out the darkness. This time, however, the stone griffins remained silent, slumbering.

As I neared the light at the end of the tunnel, I pulled down the gazer over my eyes. Looking through its lenses felt like looking through the wrong side of a pair of binoculars, but thousandfold. Stretching out my arm before me seemed to make it ten times longer.

Irrevocably insane…

Irrevocably insane…

Irrevocably insane…

If someone asked me what the inside of the Starlit Almanac was like, I wouldn’t have known how to respond. The world all around me was a heavenly white. Or perhaps a cosmic black. Sometimes it merged the two into an oceanic gray. Everything had shape, yet nothing had form. The concrete became abstract. Stars and galaxies drifted at the reach of my hand. Dark waves of cosmic black matter roiled amid a maelstrom.

Ask.

My mind was aswarm with thousands of questions. How do you focus when everything there is to know in the universe lies within reach of your fingertips?

How do I get people to like me? No answer.

Twinkling star constellations danced around me.

Why does Alan hate me? No answer. Why does Alan Grayson hate me to my core? No answer.

A multicolored nebula washed over me and flew past to the beyond.

Why am I so weak? No answer. How can I be strong? Make me stronger, faster… No answer.

What will happen if Dad discovers what I really am? No answer.

Mr. Royce’s voice came through my earpiece before it sputtered out. “Scarlett, come in—.”

Why are people offered to the lake as sacrifices? Confusion.

What’s in the lake? Life.

Why is the moon over Farpoint bigger? It’s not.

Why do we only see one side of the moon? Its rotational period is the same as its orbital period.

Shooting stars zipped by me.

Am I the chosen one? For what purpose? By whom? No answer.

Where can I find the Red Star? In this plane of existence.

How do I find the Red Star? No answer.

Where can I find a cure for vampirism? No answer.

I clenched my fists.

Does a cure for vampirism exist? Yes.

Where is the cure for vampirism? Everywhere, anywhere.

Show me…

The cosmos answered as clusters of stars danced and frolicked and aligned themselves, until the whole galaxy hovered before me, reared back, and produced a blinding flash of light before my eyes. The Starlit Almanac had at last complied to my command.

That was the moment I woke up.

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