This was definitely not one of Coral’s most excellent ideas.

  A hushed “Be safe,” came from behind Coral through the closed door. Coral squared her shoulders, lifted her head and made a mental promise to both her and her sister that she would make it back.

  Coral didn’t run away from an arranged marriage to die in the dark to some monster.

  She took her first steps down into that darkness.

  “COME ON,” bellowed Caspian, his voice gravelly in its call for action. There was an answering shriek.

  The monster’s call had Coral hurrying down the stairs. Why for the good of everything did she not invest in buying something to defend herself. If she survived, she was going to have to fix that right away. She may not know how to defend herself, but she swore then and there that she was going to learn.

  Coral stopped just before the brickwork opened into the basement. There was an awful, wet thud. Then another. A clatter of wood on stone.

  Angling her lantern away so that she didn’t draw attention, Coral pressed herself up against the wall, then peaked around the corner. At the far end of the basement, the candle she had thrown had caught alight on a shattered wine barrel. Flames lit the area, casting light over the bloody mess that was Caspian and the Ghoul.

  Caspian’s skin on his left shoulder had peeled back in chunks. Blood dripped from his arm in rivulets as he lifted the ghoul, snarling, then threw it. The ghoul flew several feet then collided with a pillar and slid down to the floor. Caspian was on it a moment later, his hands going around the Ghouls neck. Quick as lightning, he smashed the ghouls head into the pillar. Again, he yanked it forward and beat it into the pillar, another wet thump.

  It was now or never.

  Coral dashed forward, careless of the stinging on her arms as the jostling knives nicked at her skin.

  The ghoul flailed, its blackened claw tips slicing through anything they touched. The stone, Caspians shirt and flesh. Caspian yelled out as the ghoul stabbed its claws right through one arm that had pinned it down. Caspian jerked, using his other arm to half lift the monster up, he threw it bodily over his head and slammed it head first into the pillar behind them.

  Its claws had come free from Caspian’s arm. He gripped it with his hand, jaw clenched, and half hunched as he glared at the ghoul.

  The ghoul used its working leg to shove itself forward. It caught Caspian’s leg and then dragged itself up his body, climbing as though he was a fleshy pin board. It stabbed its claws into him, its arms working fast as it pierced Caspian with each handful of flesh, pulling itself closer and up.

  Caspian struggled to free himself as it clambered up him. The ghoul reached Caspian’s chest; its maw widened then snapped shut. Its teeth sunk into Caspian’s neck, blood dripping from the ghoul’s haggard mouth.

  Oh, cursed shit!

  Caspian couldn’t die! She needed him to kill it. Both Coral and Pearl were guaranteed death if he didn’t.

  Coral ran up behind, grabbing any one of the knife handles and dropping the rest. She raised the knife and stabbed as hard as she could. She didn’t aim, and its toughened skin resisted the knife. The Ghoul didn’t react to her, it kept biting into Caspian.

  Coral pulled her arm back, gripped the handle with both hands and put her entire weight against it as she struck the beast again. The knife sunk deep into the crook of its armpit. She jumped back out of reach, ripping the knife out as she went. She could feel severing muscle through the knife as it tore free.

  The Ghoul threw its head back, screeching. It sent sharp pains through her skull. The noise was so horrible Coral was sure her ears were bleeding.

   It dropped from Caspian, who was somehow still standing. He swayed heavily, blood dripping down his neck.

  Coral scrabbled back, hands shaking.

  The Ghoul crawled towards her, one of its arms dragging loosely behind, it’s shattered leg just as useless. It still came for her. The ghoul’s black eyes locked on to her, its jaws pulled back in a snarl, dripping with blood. A piece of flesh dangled from its teeth.

  This was it. She was going to die.

  She raised her knife, ready to strike. She wouldn’t go down without fighting. She would fight for every second she could. For herself. For Pearl. Even for Caspian, for however many minutes he may have left. Even when she didn’t know how to fight.

  Coral’s back hit against something hard.

  The ghoul scuttled feet away from her. It’s arm stretching out over the flagstones and shunting itself forward with its back leg. Even injured it moved fast.

  Coral darted to the side. The thing at her back had been a pillar. She used it as a barrier to keep the monster from reaching her. A fallen shelf lay on its side, and she braced a foot against it then kicked. It barely moved forward. It was braced on one side by a wine barrel that had been shattered. If the monster was going to crawl for her, she was going to put every obstacle she could in its way. Those claws would tear through anything, and it wouldn’t be held back for long, but any few seconds would be enough.

  Coral grabbed a bit of wood one handed and chucked it at the monster. It bounced off its back, unharmed. She grabbed another piece, this one long and splintered at one end. She hoisted it up, awkward with the knife in her hand and wedged it under her arm, pointy end sticking out.

  The ghoul clambered over the pile of wood and broken things. It was close now, too close. It leapt for her, and Coral screamed as it came down at her. She thrust the wood up. She was knocked back with a sudden weight from a direction she hadn’t been expecting. Her head hit the stone hard, the pain knocking the breath from her.

  Snarling erupted above her, and she felt something wet flick over her face and down her arms. She blinked and realised there wasn’t the pain she had been expecting either. Her head thrummed with pain ferociously, but there wasn’t the sharp agony of cutting or crushing force from a bite.

  Caspian stood before her, shaking hard as he held back the ghoul. It stood now on one hoofed leg, snapping and roaring as it leant into Caspian.

  The piece of wood Coral had held was now in Caspian’s hand. He rammed it hard into the monster’s chest. An agonised yowl ripped out of the beast. He thrust the wood in further, shoving the ghoul back. Then with an awful, sucking sound he pulled the wood free, tossed it aside and dug a hand deep into the monster’s chest. Caspian’s arm flexed, a snap, and a bloody rib was tossed aside. He went in again. The Ghoul still clawing at him. Caspian’s head snapped back as the ghoul slashed him across his chest and over his face.

  Caspian bit down on the ghoul’s arm and tore away a chunk of the monster’s flesh, spitting it back at the creature. His arm drove into the ghoul’s chest. The Ghoul wailed, the high pitch ringing of pain. Then he pulled his arm free, dripping in red.

  The ghoul dropped to the floor, twitching.

  A blackened heart still beat in Caspian’s hand, sinew and flesh dangling between his fingers. He clenched his fist, driving his fingers into the heart, blood squeezing out in a sickening squelch. Caspian let it drop from his hand. He shook violently as he stared down at the ghoul, its chest an open cavity of blackened muscle and broken bones.

  Caspian dropped to his knees.

  “Caspian!” Coral cried. She scrambled over to him, pushing aside bits of wood as she went. He was still breathing, though he was in an awful way.

  “Its dead,” He gasped.

  “It is,” Coral said, not bothering to look at the decrepit thing. Her hands brushed over his neck, his chest. She didn’t know where to put her hands to staunch the flow of blood.

  “What do I do?” she asked, more out of helplessness than anything.

  Caspian was bleeding everywhere. There was so many punctures and open wounds that she didn’t know what to do. Did she even try to staunch the bleeding? Was it to late? Was he bleeding out? Coral held a hand against the place where he was bleeding the worst, a deep gash right over his shoulder and right near his neck. She could feel the blood spill over her hands.

  “Blood,” he gasped.

  “I know. I’m trying. I don’t know what to do.” She cried. She gathered up her skirt then pressed it against him, hoping the material would help to cover more than her hands could.

  “Blood,” he rasped. His hand came up and rested weakly against her wrist.

  She blinked down at him. He stared up at her, his eyes dilated to the point there was no whites left. Then she realised. She didn’t wait for him to say anything more. She just acted.

  Coral pressed her wrist against his mouth.

  Caspian’s fangs bit into her wrist, the pain slicing through her like a knife. She cried out, but she didn’t pull away.

  Caspian had saved her. He had saved Pearl. Now, Coral could save him.

  He sucked at her wrist, and the feeling of her blood being pulled forcefully from her veins was awful. It hurt more than she thought it would, and she grit her teeth as she let him drink. Caspian gripped her arm with more strength. He breathed in heavily through his nose, his eyes closed, and the sensation of suction eased to where she couldn’t feel it. He lapped at every drop, careful not to let it escape from his mouth. He broke away. His head fell back.

  He didn’t move.

  Coral pressed her wrist up against her belly, afraid to look at it. She was afraid to look anywhere except for his lacerated face.

  “Caspian?” she said quietly. He didn’t respond.

  He just lay there, and Coral placed her other hand on his chest to see if he breathed still or not. The flickering firelight was filling the air with smoke, and now that the adrenalin was leaving her, she coughed. She needed fresh air. The back of her throat burned.

  She bent over Caspian, wondering if she should look for a heartbeat. Did vampire’s even have a heart beat? Did they even breathe like normal people? Coral placed two fingers against his neck, searching for a pulse. She wasn’t sure, maybe it was foolish hope, but it appeared he wasn’t bleeding as heavily as now.

  “Are you alive?” Coral asked, voice trembling.

  His closed lids fluttered open, his eyes now a bright red. “Barely,” he croaked.

  Coral breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness. I don’t want another dead thing in my Inn,” she told him.

  Caspian twitched one of his arms. “I’ll haunt your gate. If you move me from here.”

  “Don’t you dare,” Coral snapped. “You’re not going to die. I won’t let you.”

  She carefully stood so that any movement she made didn’t jostle him. He didn’t move or protest at this, and she wondered if this was a good sign or not. She didn’t know what to do. She looked down at Caspian, knowing she had to get him at least somewhere warmer. The fire eating its way through the alcohol soaked wood was smoking heavily, and she didn’t know if she should leave it to burn out or try to stamp out the flames.

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  Deciding she needed the fresh air more, and that the basement was made of stone, the manor was at less of a risk from catching alight.

  She hurried back to the stairs, calling out “PEARL” as loud as she could in between coughing. The air was thick with smoke, and it made her eyes burn.

  There was a bang and moments later a terrified “CORAL?” called out from atop the stairs. There was a great deal of banging, and when Coral reached the stairs, it was to find Pearl halfway down them, arms raised with a wooden chair hanging over her head. Her face was set into a hard line that Coral had never seen her wear.

  Pearl checked over Coral’s shoulder, then back at her. “Where is it?”

  “Dead,” Coral told her, the relief making her sound breathy.

  Pearl sagged in relief, letting the chair fall behind her. “Thank goodness.” She sunk her head into her hands, a sob escaping her. “I thought you were dead!”

  Coral rushed to her and was shocked to when Pearl pushed her back angrily.

  “Don’t ever do that to me again. Do you hear me!” Pearl yelled. “Ever, you stupid idiot!”

  Coral nodded. She reached out and wrapped her sister in her arms, and Pearl rested her head beneath Coral’s chin.

  “You stupid, cursed jobbernowl!” Pearl moaned.

  Coral wasn’t sure if she should be impressed that her sister’s vocabulary extended to insults when she was this upset, or that she had somehow come across the term ‘jobbernowl’. Perhaps she should swear more around her. Then Coral would be treated to these types of comments more often.

  “I am,” Coral agreed wholeheartedly. She didn’t regret what she had done. If she hadn’t, would Caspian have had his opening to kill the ghoul? She shuddered.

  “You can insult me all you want, but I need you to help me move Caspian.”

  Pearl lifted her head and stared at her. “He’s dead?” she said flatly.

  “Not yet. Come on.” Coral let Pearl go and led the way back to Caspian.

  Pearl gasped as soon as she saw his unmoving figure sprawled out on the ground. She coughed, her eyes flitting over to the fire.

  “Leave it. It will burn itself out.” Coral said, kneeling beside Caspian and motioning for Pearl to do the same on his other side.

  Pearl made a distressed noise as she took in his person. “What do we do?” She asked.

  Caspian’s eyes fluttered open again, his hand reaching out for her. She grasped his hand in both of her own. Then froze at the sight of his blood red eyes.

  “You’re a vampire?” she said, her voice hitching and edged with fear.

  How had Pearl clued in on the manor being haunted but hadn’t suspected that Caspian was in fact a vampire. Maybe Coral had been right in assuming Pearl was too naïve to pick up the things that happened around her.

  Caspian said nothing. His face becoming strangely crumpled and then closed off at Pearl’s exclamation. He pulled his hand from hers.

  “We’re going to move you,” Coral told him, impatient at this exchange. “Do you think you can stand, or will we have to carry you.”

  For a moment Pearl looked like she would argue that she wouldn’t touch him.

  “I’m not sure. I think so.” He rasped.

  It took a phenomenal effort on all parts to get Caspian to his feet. Coral and Pearl had to take most of Caspian’s weight as they helped him across the basement floor. Getting him up the stairs was an ordeal in itself, where they had to brace him on either side and take one step at a time. If Coral hadn’t worked herself hard in the last month clearing the driveway, she doubted she would have had the strength to help him. She grit her teeth and heaved, holding hard on to one of Caspian’s arms across her shoulder, her other tightly wrapped about his back. It was sticky from the blood, and while she tried to avoid touching his open lacerations, there was little else she could do to help hold him upright.

  Caspian panted and groaned as he forced himself to keep moving. He tripped and stumbled, dragging his foot up to the next step, then stopped to gather determination for the next agonising rise.

  The air was freezing in the corridor ahead, and there was gentle whispering, barely audible that buzzed in Coral’s ears. The basement door swung open more as they reached the top of the stairs, and they passed through. Coral ignored that the door swung open on its own. Or that a pattering of footsteps sounded down the corridor, rushed past them and down into the basement below. The light from the fire ebbed and then disappeared, leaving them in complete darkness. Coral had left the lantern down below.

  She and Pearl heaved Caspian down the corridor, past the kitchen and back to the winter Salon, where they had warmth and firelight to work by. They lay him on the floor by the fire, where the light revealed the devastation the ghoul had marked across Caspian’s body.

  Pearl darted away, and returned a minute later with a sheet she had pulled from some furniture, and began cutting it into strips with a pair of scissors. Coral hastened to pick up the first of the strips, then shuffled forward to wrap the worst of his bleeding.

  She was amazed he hadn’t bled out yet.

  He let her work, and she wasn’t gentle about what she did. It was desperation that drove the blood and open flesh from her mind. Single-mindedly determined to not let the man before her bleed out or die.

  “More,” he groaned. Coral had just finished tying tight a strip of cloth around his arm, where the ghoul had pierced right through with three claws.

  “I don’t. I’m not sure. You already took some.” Coral said, unsure. She knew what Caspian was asking. Coral wanted to help, but she didn’t want it to cost her own life. She wasn’t that thankful that she would throw her own life down above his.

  Just how much blood could she give away? She was exhausted, and lightheaded. Surely that was a sign that he had already taken enough.

  “More what?” Pearl asked. She held scissors in her hands and was carefully cutting away his shirt so that they could bandage his back. The shirt was little more than tattered rags.

  “Blood,” Caspian gasped.

  Pearl dropped the scissors and stared wide eyed at Coral.

  “I already let him drink from me.” Coral told her. “I think that’s why he isn’t dead yet.”

  Pearl stared down at Caspian, her face pale. “I thought you had albinism.”

  “Sorry,” he mumbled. He closed his eyes, whether from pain or unwilling to see the accusation on Pearls face, Coral wasn’t sure.

  Coral ripped away the last bit of his shirt from his neck, trying hard not to look at how deep those puncture wounds were. The ghoul had teeth like a dog, and a rotten tooth had broken off and wedged itself into the bite. Coral pulled it from his skin, the tip sticking like it was unwilling to let go of its host. Fresh blood beaded out of the hole.

  “Caspian. Will our blood help you heal?” Coral asked.

  Caspian’s lips moved but no sound came out. She was sure it was a yes.

  Coral looked at Pearl, then decided she could spare some of her own blood again. The last thing she wanted was for her first guest to die.

  She breathed hard through her nose, and then offered up her wrist once again to Caspian. His eyes flew open, his pupils a tiny pin-prick in a sea of vivid red veining out into the white’s of his eyes. He reached for her wrist, mouth open and he pulled her wrist to his mouth.

  Another sharp bite, and this time Coral couldn’t hold back a shout of pain as his teeth sunk into her wrist. Pearl watched on, her face gaining colour.

  She sat still, watching her sister, focusing on anything other than the gory mess they were. Pearl watched on, and she could tell by the pull of her eyebrows that she was not happy.

  There was nothing intimate at all about this. Often Coral had heard romanticised murmuring of what it would be like, to be bitten by a vampire. Whispers of being lured and gentle bites.

  There was nothing gentle in being bitten. It still hurt. The room was beginning to sway before her. Coral felt like she was going to be sick. At what point should she try to pull away?

  Well, this was not a pleasant feeling. If there was any reason why Coral wanted to be dizzy, it would be from the wonderful, freeing feeling she got from drinking wine. Not blood loss.

  Caspian released her wrist.

  Coral pulled it back towards her, wrapping her hand around the bite mark for good measure. She didn’t want to lose any more blood.

  “You didn’t drink as long as before,” she said thoughtlessly.

  “I can’t. You’ll die.” Caspian said.

  “Is…Is it enough?” Pearl asked. Her eyes traced the slashes across one side of his face and down over his chest. It had stopped bleeding.

  “No,” he said simply.

  Pearl bit her lower lip, then thrust her arm at Caspian. “Then drink from me.”

  Caspian turned his head away. “No.”

  For a moment, Pearl looked deeply offended. Then she schooled her face into a blank mask. “Why not?” Pearl demanded.

  Caspian didn’t answer.

  Pearl tsked, then forcefully shoved her wrist up against Caspian’s mouth. “I’m thankful for what you have done, and if my sister will let you drink, then so will I. Take the offer.” Pearl snapped.

  Caspian bit into her wrist, a look of disgust on his face. Pearl winced as he bit, but she pressed her lips together hard and looked away. Tears sprung into her eyes as he drank from her.

  Coral slumped back, her head and shoulders resting against the chaise behind her. The room was cold, but she found that she didn’t mind so much. It was a struggle to keep her eyes open. A heaviness had settled over her, a weighted thing that was pulling her consciousness down into a rest that she was eager for.

  She forced her eyes open, not realising she had let them close, when Pearl sighed. She shuffled a little, which only let her slip more comfortably onto the floor. A pillow half hanging from the seat dropped over her head, and Coral tiredly moved it below her. The chill in the room didn’t bother her. From one side the fire was blazing hot, the embers glowing brightly.

  Pearl clutched her own wrist in her hand from across Caspian’s bloodied body. They were all quiet, except for the crackle of fire and a distant howl.

  The howl awoke her senses enough to glance at the door to the salon. “Pearl,” she mumbled, pointing at the door left ajar. Pearl was up and across the room in a second. She closed the doors firmly. She looked around, then for good measure she brushed off the top of a table, flipped it on to its side. She had to drag it bodily to the door, tugging and pushing hard. She panted as she finally pushed it up against the doors.

  “Do you think there’s more than one?” Pearl asked, now breathing hard as she picked up the log poker.

  Coral shook her head. “I think ghouls are solitary. But I’m not sure.”

  “Do you think it’s safe?” She asked. Pearl slumped back down on the other side of Caspian, who seemed to be out cold.

  “I don’t know,” Coral said quietly.

  They sat in silence for several minutes, listening for any signs of life. There was nothing. Not even the usual creaks and groans of the house. Pearl kept watch of Caspian, who appeared to be dead.

  “Did you know?” Pearl asked suddenly.

  Coral had to shake herself, having found herself on the precipice of sleep. “What?” She breathed, rubbing at her neck. Her head throbbed, and all she wanted to do was surrender to the blissful ether of sleep.

  “That he’s a vampire,” Pearl said.

  Coral shrugged one shoulder. “I thought he might have been. Couldn’t have asked without being rude. I’m not sure how you didn’t notice. Albinism, really?”

  Pearl was clearly too tired to blush. She let herself lean back against the chair behind her, and let her head drop back on to the cushion. “I think I was fooling myself. How could Caspian be a vile vampire?”

  “Easily,” Coral said. “He’s too pretty.”

  “That doesn’t mean he’s instantly a monster,” Pearl said, defensive.

  Coral shrugged again. She was too tired to care if Pearl was offended or not. In most cases, Coral had found the most attractive people to be heartless. Which wasn’t that different from a monster, really. It wasn’t a stretch for her imagination to suspect. Though, it was cruel of her to say it. Pearl was stunning, and she was also gentle and kind. It was why Coral had fought so hard to keep her safe when exposed to those who would use her sister’s nature against her.

  “I’m not a monster,” Caspian mumbled.

  Coral was shocked that he was still conscious. He had been quiet for so long that she thought him to be asleep. She certainly wanted to be.

  “I don’t want to be like this,” he said again.

  If she and Pearl were anything else but exhausted, they might have had the good sense to be ashamed. Coral was too tired to care.

  “Are you going to live, then.” Coral asked. She wiggled a little further on to her pillow, her neck angled so that her chin rested on her chest and her head was still propped up. If she kept upright, then maybe she could stay awake.

“Yes,” Caspian said. He shifted then, turning his head so that he now looked up at the ceiling. “I can feel my body stitching itself back together. Horrible feeling. Like pins and needles all over.”

  Pearl gasped.

  Coral looked over at Caspian, really looking rather than the checks from the corner of her eye she had spared him. She found that the slashes down Caspian’s face and chest was in fact slowly mending. The cuts weren’t as deep and haggard, even if they were still open and weeping in some sections, the skin puckered and inflamed. One claw had cut him from scalp, down the right side of his face, over an eyebrow and had miraculously missed his eye, and started again just at the corner and dragged down his face.

  “Good.” Coral said.

  Quiet fell upon them again. Pearl tried to look anywhere but at Caspian. It took Coral several long minutes to understand why. Caspian was shirtless, and had a very nice torso, if she were to look past the smattering of blood and oddly closing cuts. She watched fascinated as the fleshy fibres of his muscle and skin grew back together.

  “I’m not a monster,” Caspian said again in the wake of the silence. “Thank you. For what you did. If circumstances were different.” He didn’t finish his sentence.

  Coral didn’t need him to. She knew other races faced prejudice, and in the case of vampires with good reason. Caspian was dangerous. She had witnessed how deadly he could be. But he had also saved them.

  “Thank you.” Coral said. “If you hadn’t been here, Pearl and I wouldn’t have survived the night.”

  “In a heartbeat,” Caspian said, his eyes on Pearl. She was still trying to keep her eyes away from his naked torso.

  Coral adjusted herself again, so that she could lay with her head propped on the pillow without cricking her neck. Decorum could be bothered with tomorrow, when she had the strength to clean herself up.

  Her eyes opened again, noticing that she had let them close. She listened hard, and still heard nothing.

  “There was only one ghoul, right?” Coral asked.

  “I’ve never heard of two ghouls residing anywhere. But I’m not an adventurer.” Caspian said quietly. “When I’ve had a chance to heal up, I’ll go to the adventurer’s guild right away. We’ll need to report it.”

  “What if there is another one?” Pearl said just as quietly.

  “We should stay together until the night is done. I’ve heard that daylight hurts them.” Coral said, still trying to keep her eyes open.

  “Daylight will hurt Caspian,” Pearl pointed out.  

  Coral hummed in acknowledgement; her brain was overworked and her body too heavy to bother with another counter comment.

  “Do you think the ghosts were trying to lure you down there, or warn you?” Pearl asked after another minute of quiet.

  “They’re just kids, I don’t think it was intentional.” Caspian said thoughtfully.

  “They could have just written Ghoul or something less obscure than ‘basement’. They wanted me to go down there.” Coral said darkly.

  “They also said help,” Pearl reminded her.

  Coral rolled over, too uncomfortable and exhausted to want to accept that they had. If they wanted help, they went about the whole situation in an awful way. Her nose throbbed, and Coral let her eyes close, and let sleep take her.