Rory

Glasses clanked in cheers and silverware scraped against plates as they celebrated Holga’s return. Sven pushed his chair away from the table, rubbing at his distended abdomen. “Dini, you’re gonna make me as big as a house one of these days,” he said and belched.

“Sven. Manners,” Doc said. His mood had darkened after Byron’s recent departure. Rory worried he may have overheard their spat.

“I’m not bothered by these things. In fact…” Holga broke off and pushed a buttered stalk of asparagus around with her fork. “It was something I would often chastise Lena about.”

“She wasn’t a lady about it, that’s for damn sure,” Sven said with a hearty laugh that caught in his throat. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, smearing his charcoal liner. “Got bloody pepper in my eye,” he said and quickly strode away from the table.

Wide-eyed, Billie looked at the somber faces around him. “I didn’t know we had pepper. Can I have some too?”

Rory shook her head at him and shushed him with a finger.

“Billie,” Nadine said. “Why don’t you go outside and talk to the carrots? I get the feeling they’re lonely. I’ll call you back in when it’s time to clean up and you can help me with that.”

“Okay. They must really like me. I was just talking to them before we ate. They’re my new best friends… well, other than you guys. And Byron, of course. And-”

“Enough.” Doc said, pounding his fists on the table, causing Billie to yelp and rush out of the room. “I’ll have to apologize to him later for that. Now, getting back to the issue of… Err.” He cleared his throat.

“Yes. Returning to Alma,” Holga said.

Nadine’s eyes widened, and her head snapped to the window. “Trouble. Oh goddess, how’d they find us?”

“What is it?” Doc asked, standing to follow her gaze.

“Vampire. Alone, but definitely not friendly. He’s tangled in a root trap for now. The one Byron called Trevor when we were at Billie’s house.”

Rory ran to the window and saw what looked like a cocoon made of knobby roots and vines that suddenly exploded. Freed, the vampire ran by the window in a blur.

“Billie,” Rory said and ran to the back door. A hand held her back before she could open it.

“Don’t. I’ll go check on him. You stay inside where it’s safe.” Doc rushed outside and pulled an old pitchfork from the ground. He inched towards the garden and his gaze fell on a figure, his shoulders slumped.

The blur rushed by Doc, close enough to make his hair flutter in its wake. He spun, weapon at the ready. Suddenly the vampire stopped, appearing as though he materialized behind Doc.

“Behind you,” Rory screamed.

Doc whirled, catching the vampire’s attack with the shaft of the pitchfork, and it shattered under the blow. The vampire kicked at him; he dodged and rolled while grabbing the other half of the broken tool.

With his two makeshift stakes, Doc swung wildly at the vampire—who only grinned and avoided the blows with wicked grace. “Undead Son-of-a-,” he said and lunged, bringing his weapons down in a mighty arc.

The vampire snarled as the wood cut a deep furrow in its chest. “I’m done playing now.” Trevor crouched and made to pounce.

Rory knew Doc couldn’t hold out much longer and ran outside before she had time to think of a plan. Her heart pounded in her chest and her vision tunneled. “Stay away from him,” she said with as much anger and defiance as she could muster.

The vampire turned to face her, smiled and darted towards her in a flash. Before she could react, she was slung over his shoulder as he ran. She kicked and screamed, clawed at his back, even bit at him.

“Feisty, aren’t you? Now, why would Vic ask me to grab you if I saw you?” He set her down and held a rough hand over her mouth. “I think he’s being selfish by keeping all of your kind’s blood for himself. I’m just going to have a little taste before we’re on our way.”

She screamed, but his only response was horrible, venomous laughter.

“Don’t worry, it’s just a little taste. The old bastard would have my head if I brought you to him, too scuffed up. Sounds like he has big plans for you.”

A muffled sound left her as she squirmed and kicked. His face grew closer to hers and his mouth widened, revealing razor-sharp fangs. Pleasure flashed in his eyes. There was cold against her skin at first, and then the bite. She tried to scream in pain but could only moan. Her body failed to respond to any other command. Blood dripped down her neck as he drank, and his hand moved from her mouth down to her lower back.

“Stop,” she whispered with the last of her remaining strength. It was just a word; she was too weak to add her magic.

As if under her thrall, he removed himself from her neck. His tongue slithered across her wounds and the pain vanished. “Mistress,” the vampire took a knee before her and delicately kissed her hand. He peered up at her with eyes that refused to focus.

Horrified, she pulled back, wiping away the gore his kiss left behind. “Excuse me?”

“My life for yours.” The vampire spat the words and frowned, disgusted but unable to resist. “Your blood is…” He fought for words before settling on, “intoxicating.” A growl rumbled in his chest. “Stop this witchcraft now and I’ll kill you quickly.” He shook his head and dropped his gaze. “Please, don’t make it stop. Looking at you is like seeing the sunrise for the first time in hundreds of years.”

“Huh. My blood did this to you? Probably for the best Byron didn’t…” She felt her cheeks burn, and the anger rose inside her thinking about him again.

“You seem distressed, my most beloved.” His eyes narrowed. “When this wears off, I will tear you to…” He groaned and said, “Forgive me. I would protect your body with my own from a rain of arrows. I would wade through fire if you wished it. I would… snap you like a fucking twig if I could.”

Cautiously, she ran a finger along her exposed neck and dipped it in the spilled blood. She knelt beside him and wiped it on his bottom lip.

“Your teasing pleases me,” he said and lapped at the offered finger.

“Stake yourself,” she said, her voice void of her power, and watched as the vampire found a stick. He broke it in half and held it over his heart, watching her with his spiteful glare. “Never mind. Drop it.”

And again, he did as she commanded.

“Take me home.”

Seconds later, Trevor gently set Rory down in front of the farmhouse’s wrap-around porch. “I could take you anywhere, are you sure this is where you want to be?”

Before she could answer, Doc ran out of the house followed by Sven—who reeked of garlic and brandished a stake and a tarnished old crucifix.

“The mistress wouldn’t want me to kill you.” Trevor fell to his knees. His face twisted, and he said, “Low life druggie scum. What makes you think that little cross would work for you? There’s no faith in you to back that up.” Eyes widened, and he dropped his head. “Forgive me, you are her friend.”

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“The hell did you do to him? Almost feel sorry for the poor bastard.” Sven scoffed. “Well, not in the slightest if I’m bein’ honest.”

“So, um, our powers go a little deeper than we thought,” Rory said and frowned down at Trevor’s prostrate form. “He had a taste and-”

“He bit you?” Doc asked, inspecting her neck. He took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped at the dried blood. “There’s no wound.”

“Oh, I healed it for her. I couldn’t let my dearest bleed out.” Trevor darkened and said, “No matter how much I wanted to watch the cow bleed out.”

Without warning, Doc punched the vampire’s nose. “Talk like that again and I’ll stake you to a plank and turn you into a scarecrow. Granted, there’re no crows to guard against, but it might work just as well for your kind.”

“I accept your punishment. If Rory desires-”

“Please knock that off. It’s getting old,” Rory said.

“You have no idea,” Trevor replied through gritted teeth.

The front door swung open and Byron rushed through. “Nadine told me about…” He halted and clenched his fists. His gaze surveyed not only Trevor, but the area surrounding him. It was as though he could see something the rest of them couldn’t.

“Well, well, looks like the cattle found a cowboy,” Trevor said and whistled through his teeth. He jerked and sniffed the air, holding his head slightly to one side. “The mistress’s heart races when he approaches.”

“Shut up,” Rory said, cuffing his ear with the back of her hand.

“Forgive me.” Trevor croaked and shuddered. “Lady has it bad for you, old friend.”

Teeth bared in a savage expression; Byron landed a solid hit on Trevor’s right eye. He flexed his fist and shook it before wiping his knuckles against the back of his jeans. Angrily, he stuffed both hands in his pant pockets.

Trevor’s body twitched in silent laughter until it spilled over into maniacal cackles. “You smell different, boy.”

“Both of you, stop. This is childish,” Rory said, feeling her temper rise. “Trevor, I’m sending you back wherever your kind lives to give them a warning. Tell them if they send anyone else, they’ll return under my influence. Got it?”

“Yeah,” Sven said and kicked Trevor in the ribs. Everyone turned to glare at him. “Thought it was a thing we were doin’ now. Had to get my lick in, at least.”

Trevor said, “I don’t want to leave you-” His body stiffened, and he laughed. “I served my purpose.”

“Purpose? What purpose is that?” Rory asked, prickles of unease ran down her spine.

“While the mistress was playing with me, Alma was falling to cinders.”

Terrified, Rory turned to Byron.

“It’s true.” Byron breathed. “I came back from…” he looked down at Trevor and frowned. “Mara told me.”

“You knew and said nothing?” Doc asked.

“It’s not like he had an opportune moment with this happening,” Rory said, pointing at the vampire brushing his face against her leg.

“Aw how sweet. The little cow is sticking up for her bull.” Trevor whimpered and his body flexed back into a passive posture.

Byron balled up his fists again, and Rory stood between them. “All vampires need to get the fuck away from me. Now!” She felt the power leave her.

Confusion and longing merged on Trevor’s face before he turned and ran. While Byron casually leaned against the railing.

“You’re not running,” she said, the words barely coming out as a whisper. Her breath came in shallow gasps and the world came dangerously close to falling away.

He grinned at her, and their eyes met. “Doesn’t look like I am.”

“Sven, Doc. Would you guys help me in here?” Nadine called from the nearest window and shot Rory a quick smile with two big thumbs up.

“Are you going to be okay?” Doc asked Rory.

She nodded in reply before returning her attention to Byron. When they were finally alone, she fought for words. Her mouth gaped like a fish out of water. Part of her thought her eyes must be as wide and desperate. “Mara?” she asked.

“Mara.”

“It wasn’t for me?” What if something happens to him? What if he gave up something that could have kept him alive? What if he dies and there’s no one left to blame but impulsive Rory? Never happy with the way things are.

“Not completely. I’d be lying if you weren’t a factor, but there were other reasons.” He stood closer to her and grazed warm fingertips up her arms and neck. He drew a sharp breath.

Goosebumps rose on her exposed flesh. Dazed, she shook her head. “There’s too much to think about right now. We need to get to Alma.”

“You’re right. Just real quick, what happened? With Trevor? That guy is a psychopath.”

“I’ve got an odd but, definitely, related question. When you drank from Billie in the past, did it last longer than normal? Or some other effect related to his ability?”

“I guess it never really occurred to me but, yeah. I think it did last longer. Why?” Realization spread across his face. “Oh.”

“I have a confession to make. The other night, when I was going to your room, I was tempted to have you drink from me—Just to see how it felt. It’s probably for the best you didn’t. Considering what happened with Trevor.”

He shook his head. “Another time we’re going to have to have a conversation about that night. I-”

“Shaggin’ later mates. Gotta go,” Sven said. “The nameless lady is gonna open a way or some such nonsense.”

They nodded and followed the rest into the cellar. Fear cut into Rory and she stood at the opening, staring at the other side. What had once been the sturdy gates of Alma was now a destroyed ruin. Trampled remains of ramshackle tents and their contents littered the ground. Above that, smoke billowed throughout the skies.

“Where’s Billie?” Rory asked, noting his absence.

“We couldn’t find him,” Nadine said. “I hope another vampire didn’t show up and grab him while our focus was on other things.” She forced the words out and looked years older in a matter of seconds.

“I will continue to search after you’re gone,” Mara’s servant said. “Now, go.”

Rory found Byron’s hand and held on to it before stepping through.

* * *

The air was thick with the greasy smell of cooked meat. Rory felt bile rise in her throat. There’re no cook fires left around here. That’s not what’s burning. She felt her knees go weak and Byron wrapped an arm around her waist.

“Are you okay?” His face looked nearly as pale as her own must have been.

She nodded.

He coughed into his hand. “Vic will pay for this.”

In the distance, a woman screamed and wailed. “No… No… No… Ed. My Dear Sweet Ed.”

Rory dashed over the rubble of the gate and found her. The woman cradled the body of a gatekeeper she remembered from her first day in this unfamiliar world.

Doc rushed to the woman’s side and felt for a pulse, first in the neck, then the wrist. “Dammit,” he said and put an ear to the man’s chest. He closed his eyes and let out a resigned sigh.

“You’re a healer. I’ve heard about what you can do.”

Doc shook his head grimly.

“You then.” She pointed helplessly at Sven, holding her hands together as a beggar would, crawling on her knees towards him. “You’ve helped him before. My Ed, he begged me not to say a word, but you gave him pills that helped him as a man. Help him now.” Her cheeks were wet with tears and she looked at him with pleading eyes.

“Sorry. Them pills only raise one thing, and it ain’t the dead.”

Uncomfortable with the stranger’s grief, Rory wandered away through the confusing maze of the city. Some people were looting houses, some were bent over the still figures of loved ones. The air was thick with despair.

“There you are,” Byron said. “It isn’t safe for you to be wandering around on your own.”

“Would this have happened if we hadn’t left?” Rory asked.

“Probably. It would have taken longer for Vic to get the nerve but, probably. C’mon, we need to get to the Catherine.”

Rory nodded, and Byron led her through the roads and alleys until they came to an enormous square. The corpse of a massive creature, barely humanoid, lay in front of them. A round hole burned cleanly through the head and heart area. The Catherine sat in the very middle of the square, cradling a lanky, pale body.

“Gregory,” Holga said.

The Catherine took deep breaths and stood. Her face ashen with shock. As the group approached, she smoothed her normally pristine white garment rendered filthy and tattered by the fight. “It would seem I owe you all an apology,” she said. Her voice faltered, and she averted her eyes.

“Why did they attack like this?” Doc asked while inspecting the wounds on Gregory’s body.

“I’ll get to that, James. For now… It’s come to my attention that I haven’t always treated your kind with much respect.”

Sven snorted.

“I’m ashamed to admit it, but I treated all of you like second-class citizens. There are pressures I caved to that were best ignored. And when any of you were endangered while in service to Alma, I was unwilling to risk human lives for you since my mind had already decided you were the same as or worse than the vampires.” The Catherine’s shoulders slouched, and she pushed back loose hair behind an ear. “It’s no wonder you left how you did.”

“We left because Grace kicked us out on your orders,” Doc said.

Her hand pressed into her chin, and the Catherine said, “That’s news to me. We’ll talk more later about it. For now, we’ve got a lot of cleaning up to do because of that,” she said and pointed to the remains of Sharona.

Byron stepped to her side and said, “I’m amazed you survived that.”

“You.” The Catherine’s eyes widened in shock and she clutched at her dowsing rod.

“Look, I don’t know what you’re trying to do, but if you’re holding that on me because you think I’m a vampire—you got it wrong. I’m with the witches,” he said and raised his hands.

She traced the scorched hole in Sharona’s head with a finger. “I’ve never seen it work before today. The staff, I mean. Truth be told, I almost worried it was all legend and nothing would happen. Gregory’s sacrifice…” Her breath caught in her throat. “Before the attack, he knew something was up. Left his quiet chambers and braved the walk here. Yelled and screamed for someone to help.” She wiped a tear from her eye. “I could prepare for the attack thanks to him and when they stole the Daughters, he stood his ground. You could see how much pain he was in, but he shielded them with his body. That thing”—she gestured at Sharona’s mutated form—“snatched him up and drained him dry. But instead of becoming more powerful, his blood hurt it somehow, distracting it long enough for me to get a few clean shots and put it down.”

“You said they stole some Daughters?” Doc asked.

“Six that I saw, but there could be more.” The Catherine fell to her knees. “I saved the ones I could, but…”

Byron said, “Think I know where to find them. I’ve been deeper in Blueskin territory than anyone else. We’ll need a cart full of supplies though.”