In seven hundred years, there was little that bothered Helena. She had seen World Wars and massacres deserved and otherwise. Terrors and torture. The worst of humanity, and worse yet, the worst of Others left unchecked.

The sight beyond the blast door, torn apart when she and Teucer put their shared strength to it, left her shaken.

Fledglings.

Worse, fledglings, captured and starved to frenzy, alive only because it was difficult to kill a vampire without intending to. They could survive starvation, although it tended to come with the madness as well, unless managed carefully.

These poor children, all within their first decade of vampirism, were insane past any hope of recovery. The Frenzy was what all vampires feared. It was the absolute loss of control and left only the madness for blood behind.

“Elle, what do you want to do?”

Owen’s heart was a little fast, but that was not unexpected. The last time he encountered fledglings in Josef’s care, they had almost killed him. His concern was more than justified. Many of the vampires that Hunters targeted were fledglings left to figure things out themselves. Most often, they lost control, or never learned control to begin with. Helena hated the thought of young vampires left to die, forbade it among her own Coven, but couldn’t blame Hunters like Owen for bringing down those who posed a threat to the public. She did the same, once in a rare while.

It would do no one any good for the Other community to be revealed to the world. Beyond even the safety of her own Coven, Helena minded the laws of secrecy that5 kept her people safe.

This, however…

This broke her heart.

The fledglings, scenting Owen’s beating heart and fresh, human blood, froze in place, hazed eyes fixed on Owen. To them, he was a meal, a desperately-sought sourse of blood to the starving fledglings.

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A human alone would be dead in moments.

But Owen wasn’t helpless, and he wasn’t alone.

“Elle?” he asked, the image of perfect control, shotgun loaded and ready. “What do you want to do?”

There were no good choices, but Teucer was right. Better that none of the Coven saw these poor creatures. It was distressing to Helena, and she had seen Frenzied fledglings more than once in her long years.

“Heléne,” Teucer said, eyes sad as he took in the fledglings, who hadn’t quite decided to run at them. “Needs must, dear one.”

“I know,” Helena murmured regretfully. “Owen, stay back?”

“I’ll cover you,” Own promised, subdued and a little relieved that the two Elder vampires would be taking the fledglings in hand. “And watch the door.”

Helena ran her fingers over his arm, took an unnecessary breath, and nodded to Teucer.

As one, she and Teucer darted forward, claws bared. To that, she added a pair of long daggers, a gift from Teucer long ago, and he raised a bronze sword, spelled to be as hard as steel. That sword had seen many wars, and would see many more yet to come. Together, they cut through muscle and bone, and left the fine, powdery ash behind them that was the truest indication of a dead vampire.

Helena tried not to think that someday, sooner or later, she too would be nothing but ashes on the floor.

But not today.

Owen’s shotgun boomed through the air over her shoulder and Helena held her course, trusting beyond reason that her lover would not shoot her. Her trust was well-placed. Owen was a master with his chosen weapon, and his well-placed shots kept breathing room for she and Teucer as they tore through the insane fledglings with the precision that only elder vampires could bring to bear.

It was heartbreaking work, and Helena paused with each heart she cut out, to see the last look in each hazed pair of eyes.

They were mad, but they were still her own kind and she would remember them. They could not be saved or spared, but as long as she lived, their memory would live on.

The room was clean, when they were done. Small, sad piles of dust marked the floor, disturbed by their passing. Helena sopped, barely out of breath, and Teucer rested a hand on her shoulder, comfort and solid reassurance in one.

“They could not be saved, Heléne.” He said comfortingly, and she tuned into his arms so he could press a kiss to the top of her head.. “My dear Youngest, you have such heart. Do not let it fail you now.”

“We will take a dear price form he who did this to our own,” Helena murmured into his shoulder and held on for all she was worth. “This day would be harder without you.”

“I will always answer Helen’s call,” he told her, and huffed a half-chuckle. “Your human is worried and curious. Speak to him. I will scout ahead.”