Sloane Briallen

I spent months scouring those woods after Mickey and Bell disappeared.  Long after the loaned police dogs had been taken back to Seattle, long after the police called it a day, long after everyone else had given up.  For the rest of my senior year, I would come home from school, and I would put on my boots, and I went back into those woods.

Mauve and Leah tried to stop me.  At the time, they claimed that they were just looking out for me.  They wanted to make sure their remaining child didn’t meet the same fate.  They claimed they didn’t want me to get admitted into the hospital again.

But in reality, they knew where their sons were.  They knew they were safe and still alive.  They knew that I was killing myself searching for my brothers—their sons—and they never said a fucking word.

They left me in agony.  They made the decision that ultimately ended in my death.

They were the reason I was a vampire.

My chest ached.  Tears had frozen to my cheeks hours ago, and my throat was raw from sobbing.  I didn’t even know how long I had been running.  I had been in and out, dissociating as I ran.  I knew I was running east, headed back for the Twin Cities.

It was night.  When had it turned to night?  It had been late morning when we arrived in Port Orchard.  They had picked me up in Mauve’s car and driven us from Minnesota to Washington.

I stumbled to a stop in the snow, almost wiping out on a tree root.  I tried to brush the tears off my face, but my face was almost frozen.  I had to scrap at the ice. 

As I moved, I realized my sweater was stiff and cold against my skin.  I looked down to see that the snow and air had frozen the fabric.  My jeans were in much the same shape.

It wasn’t snowing now, but I had run through areas where it was snowing, through freezing temperatures.  I couldn’t feel cold quite like a human could, but I could feel ice against my skin.

I found myself shivering, something I hadn’t done since I had been human.  It was a leftover human reaction, the way breathing was.  I didn’t really need to do any of those things—the magic inherent to blood was what kept vampires alive.  As long as I was moving and not actively, literally freezing, it would keep me going.  And I had made sure to have a big meal before the trial because I had known that I might not eat for a bit.

I brushed off my sweater as best I could, but it was a chunky knit sweater—the snow got caught against the huge threads of fabric.  And it was already frozen anyway.  It couldn’t really be defrosted.

I was just a giant, frosted vampire.

I could make a joke about cereal. 

The thought made laughter bubble from my throat.  “Frosted vampires are grrrreat!” I whispered under my breath.

It was a stupid joke.  Such a stupid, stupid joke.  But it made a little bit of warmth settle in my chest.  It was the smallest bit of humor, but it brightened the darkness that had taken over me.  It gave me an ember of comfort.

I stood up taller and look around me for the first time. 

Pines.  Pines everywhere.

Growing up in Arizona, I had always thought that in the north, forests only ever had pines.  It was the north, everything was cold, right?  That meant that forests were only pines because all the other trees lost their leaves.

Don’t ask me where that assumption came from—I lived in the southwest for sixteen years.  We get cactuses and spiky things that don’t want to be touched.  I associated pine trees with the north mostly.

When I moved to Port Orchard, I realized my assumptions were wrong.  Sure, there were pine trees everywhere (that I later learned were also called firs and spruces), but there were also oaks and maples.  Even moving to Minnesota, which got much colder and way more snow, they had all sorts of trees—elm, birch, ash.

But here, in the middle of . . . somewhere—I was surrounded by pines and spruces and firs and probably other names that basically just meant pine to me.  Conifers, I guess.

It was what I used to imagine Christmas was like as a kid.

I turned around, searching through the snow and trees.  There were footprints in the snow behind me from my trek through the forest.  I heard the quiet sounds of small animals in the trees.  There was a gentle, intermittent push of wind above me.  Formations in the snow that were probably snow-covered rocks or stumps stood up in the landscape.  Everything was still.

I looked up to see a sky filled with stars.  It was clear but for an occasional brush of translucent clouds.  I couldn’t remember the last time I had seen the sky like this.  Pinpricks of light against a swath of midnight blue.

It was the most perfect, beautiful, snowy night forest landscape.

But where the hell was I?

I only heard a swish of fabric as warning, but it was enough to turn and face the source of the sound.  The hairs on the back of my neck rose, and I took a step back. 

A vampire stood in the snow before me, standing just offset from my footprints. 

I blinked.  She did not look like someone you’d find in the middle of nowhere in the woods.  She was a fucking bombshell. 

Curves like an hourglass, she looked like a god-damned pinup model, complete with the plum-colored pouty lips and a beauty spot just beneath one eye.  A bandana held back ombre braids that started inky black at the roots and ended in deep red at the bottom that fell behind her shoulders. 

All she was missing was the tight, vintage Audrey Hepburn dress.  Instead she wore knee-high black leather boots over jeans and a black wool peacoat.

I kept my hands at my side, unsure of what to do.  She didn’t feel like a human vampire.  Her aura was kind of like a tug at mine.  Close to similar, but not quite.  She felt like . . .

“I’m in fucking Montana, aren’t I?” I sighed, pushing my hair back from my face.  A rat’s nest caught on my fingers as I did, and I winced.  My hair was also frozen with snow and ice.

She hadn’t moved since I spotted her, but my question seemed to put her off balance.  Her pouty purple lips parted, and her perfect eyebrows furrowed slightly.  “Who are you?”  Her voice reminded me of clinking glasses as she spoke.  If she hadn’t been a vampire, my gay panic would have probably already set in at this point.

As it was, it was gay unease that settled into my shoulders.

“I’m Sloane,” I said.  “Look, am I close to their castle or something?  I swear it was an accident.  I’m not looking for the living vampires.”

She blinked, her surprise turning to suspicion.  “You’re saying you just happened to come through this part of the Rockies?  You, a human vampire?”

I didn’t like where this was going.  “Look, I’m just on my way back to the Twin Cities.  I’m traveling as the crow flies from Seattle.”  I point in the vague northwest direction where Seattle was.

“Who’s your sire?” she asked.

Hoping it would give me credibility, I said, “Karhi Emelyn.”

“Bullshit,” she snarled.  “Karhi would never sire a vampire.”  Her eyes flashed from blue to silvery mother-of-pearl.  The nails on her delicate fingers turned black, growing into claws.

Oh shit—this woman had not heard the news.  And she was on fucking first name terms with Karhi.  And getting very angry with the lies she thought I was telling.

Before either of us could speak, a high-pitched popping noise cut through the night air, almost like a series of kettle whistles mixed with a dolphin clicking.  It was a strange noise, but it sounded harmless.

My body responded without my even thinking.  Claws grew from my fingers and fangs pressed against my lips.

There was something about that noise that I knew to my core was not right.

I had a split-second warning, just long enough to duck, before claws tore at the air where my chest had been.  The stench of rotting flesh hit me, and I finally caught a look at the source of the dangerous popping noises.

A creature the size of a motorcycle hunched before me on all fours.  It had too many teeth in its mouth, mottled, grey skin stretched over muscle and bone.  Stunted, useless wings jutted out from its back, a thin dark membrane stretched between the bones. 

Patches of dark hair clung to its scalp, framing a face stretched taught over cavernous hollows for a mouth, eyes, and nose.  Red embers glinted out from where its eyes should have been.  Its maw hung open, the bottom jaw unhinged and oversized for its face.

An original vampire.

I had never seen one in person, but I had heard enough descriptions and seen enough crude drawings to know what I was looking at.  The stench of rotting flesh was heavy in the air, and I found myself holding my hand to my nose in an attempt to block it out.

It stalked towards me, mottled skin stretching over sinew and muscle.  It moved with a feline grace it shouldn’t have had for a creature with short front legs and long, powerful back legs.

It launched at me, using its back legs like a frog would.

I hurled myself to the side, hitting the ground with the edge of my shoulder and rolling to my feet.  The snow dampened my movement, slowing me just enough that I turned my head into teeth and claws.

Hot fire pierced through my shoulder, and I cried out in pain.  I landed on my back, claws digging into both shoulders, gasping for air.  Teeth flashed, and I tried to kick it off me.  Something crunched beneath my feet, and the teeth stopped trying to tear me apart.  The pain in my shoulders eased, its claws opening as it let out another high-pitched, clicking whistle.  This one was much louder—I had hurt it.

That was enough time for me to bring my knees up to my chest and kick as hard as I could with both feet.  I didn’t have the strength of a full-fledged vampire, but I prayed I had enough fledgling strength to get this thing off.

It worked.  My kick launched it off me, and it screamed its weird whistle.  I rolled to my feet and came face-to-face with a second red-eyed monster.  It let out a clicking cry and pounced.

This time I was prepared for it.  I bent my knees.  Trying to outright kick it wouldn’t do me any good—my force against the vampire’s force wouldn’t be enough.  It was stronger than I was, and its legs were powerful.  I’d break my foot if I tried to kick it.

A straight kick wouldn’t do it, but a roundhouse would turn its inertia against it.

Just as it leapt, I tilted my body and slammed my shin into its shoulder.  It was enough to send the creature crashing into the ground, right where I wanted it.

I touched the ground with my kicking leg and brought my other leg into a back kick, slamming the heel of my boot into the back of the vampire’s head where it was trying to get up.  It knocked the creature down, as I expected.

I did not expect to crack its skull completely with the kick.  It screamed in agony, but I didn’t give it a chance to react or to heal.

On two feet again, I took a step forward, aiming my heel into the fracture on its head, and curb-stomped it.

Its head cracked like an egg against the frozen ground.  As quickly as its head exploded against my boot, the creature’s body turned to dust.  I didn’t even have the chance to feel brain matter splatter on my pants—it was just ash.

I blinked in surprise, staring at the black smudge of ash on the white snow in front of me.

They were that easy to kill?

Why did everyone complain about them being such a fucking plague?

Something slammed into me from the side, and I cried out, claws tearing into my back.  I tucked my arm in to keep from breaking it as I slammed into the ground.  My shoulder popped, and I screamed.

I only saw fangs for a second before the weight of the vampire disappeared, and I could see the sky above me.

I pushed myself up and saw a man with dark hair and mother-of-pearl eyes slamming a wooden stake into the back of the original vampire.  It exploded into dust, coating the man in dark soot.  He wiped his eyes, baring his teeth in annoyance.

I heard cries of pain, and I turned to see a handful of other people fighting off original vampires.  I smelled blood, but nobody seemed to be struggling against them.  There were explosions of dust here and there before everything went quiet.

My shoulder popped back into placed, and I groaned.  Perks of being a vampire were that you healed faster and didn’t necessarily have to put dislocations back in place on your own.  Downsides were that you didn’t always know when the dislocation would go back on its own.

I got to my feet, but before I could move, the woman I had first encountered stood before me in barely a flicker of movement.  “Who are you?” she growled.  Her eyes were still that mother-of-pearl, her fangs sharp in her mouth.

I gave her the finger, which was nicely accented by the long claw that had replaced my nail.  “Who are you?  I was just minding my own fucking business, and y’all brought down originals on me.”

A new voice, a deep baritone, cut through.  “What is a human vampire doing in this part of the mountains?”

Another vampire had joined us, an older man with short white hair and deep wrinkles around his mouth.  He stood next to the woman.  His face was inscrutable, his fingers steepled in front of him.  He didn’t quite put me on edge, but I didn’t get rid of my fangs or claws.

“Like I told Jessica Rabbit here—I was going home.  This is the most direct way from Seattle to the Twin Cities.”  I pointed southeast.  “That way.”

He arched an eyebrow.  “And that just happened to bring you in close proximity to the mountains where the living vampires are?”

“Are you trying to claim that the whole-ass Rocky Mountains are off-limits to any vampires who haven’t cleared it with you first?” I challenged, putting my hands on my hips.

“She claims she’s Karhi Emelyn’s child,” the woman said to him.  Her tone told me what she thought about that.

“I am!” I shot back.  “Look, just call Aoife.  She knows me.  My name is—”

“Did you just try to claim to be under Aoife Muireadhach’s protection?” the woman scoffed, looking from me to the older vampire with incredulity.  The older vampire’s face was inscrutable, but I thought I saw a flicker of surprise around his mouth.

“No, if you just listened.  Jesus Christ, look my name is—”

Something sharp pricked my neck.  I slapped at it, seeing another vampire standing next to me.  He held a needle with the plunger fully depressed.  I smelled blood then.

“No!” I screamed, lunging at the vampire.  He dodged the attack and hands grabbed my arms.

Panic tore through me, and I roared out in fury.  “NO.”

But I was already losing control.  A dull ache gripped my chest, and my knees buckled.

“No,” I whimpered, tears stinging at my eyes. 

They had injected me with dead man’s blood.  I tried to fight against the poison, but it had already taken control.  I couldn’t move as someone threw me over their shoulder in a fireman’s carry.  They were going to torture me before they killed me.  And, again, I couldn’t do a fucking thing about it.

As I went over their shoulder, darkness spotted my vision.  Ice spread down my spine, numbing my body.  The tears fell to the ground, but I couldn’t do a fucking thing.  I couldn’t even close my eyes.

But it didn’t matter.  In a moment, I was dead.